Once, mother (on a birthday that was, also), Grip and I thought of this after we went upstairs to bed, and when it was midnight, striking one o'clock, we came down to your door to see if you were well.

You were on your knees.

I forget what it was you said.

Grip, what was it we heard her say that night ?' 'I'm a devil!' rejoined the raven promptly.
'No, no,' said Barnaby.

'But you said something in a prayer; and when you rose and walked about, you looked (as you have done ever since, mother, towards night on my birthday) just as you do now.