And by and by the moon also would attend the steps of the returning children of labour.
"Noo, lads an' lasses, afore we hae worship, rin, ilk ane o' ye," said the mother, "an' pu' heather to mak a bed to the wee man--i' the neuk there, at the heid o' oors.

He'll sleep there bonny, an' no ill 'ill come near 'im." She was obeyed instantly.

The heather was pulled, and set together upright as it grew, only much closer, so that the tops made a dense surface, and the many stalks, each weak, a strong upbearing whole.
They boxed them in below with a board or two for the purpose, and bound them together above with a blanket over the top, and a white sheet over that--a linen sheet it was, and large enough to be doubled, and receive Gibbie between its folds.

Then another blanket was added, and the bed, a perfect one, was ready.

The eldest of the daughters took Gibbie in her arms, and, tenderly careful over his hurts, lifted him from the old folks' bed, and placed him in his own--one more luxurious, for heather makes a still better stratum for repose than oat-chaff--and Gibbie sank into it with a sigh that was but a smile grown vocal.
Then Donal, as the youngest, got down the big Bible, and having laid it before his father, lighted the rush-pith-wick projecting from the beak of the little iron lamp that hung against the wall, its shape descended from Roman times.