"An' keep the Sundayman away," Strong added.
They repeated the words, and then, as if his heart were still
unsatisfied, Socky added these, "An' please take care o' my Uncle
Silas."
The Emperor lay thinking long after his weary companions had gone to
sleep. He thought of that angry outcry and his heart smote him; he
thought of the danger. Perhaps, after all, they would not dare to
burn the woods now. But Strong resolved to keep awake and be ready for
trouble if it came. By-and-by he lighted a lantern and wrote in his old
memorandum-book as follows:
_"Strong use to say prufanity does more harm when ye keep it in than
when ye let it natcherly drene off but among childem it's as ketchin' as
the measles. Sounds like thunder when it comes out of a boy's mouth an
hits like chain lightnin."_
Long before midnight rain began to fall. Strong rose and went out under
the trees and lifted his face and hands, in a picturesque and priestlike
attitude, to feel the grateful drops and whispered, "Thank God!" It was
a gentle shower but an hour of it would be enough. He went back to
his bed and lay listening. The faded leaves that still clung in the
maple-tops above them rattled like a thousand tambourines. After an hour
of the grateful downpour Strong's fear abated and he "let go" and sank
into deep slumber.
Almost the last furrow in the old sod of his character had been turned.