gave the
berries to the children, and the hind poked her little cool nose into
their hands to get at the food, so tame was she; while the old woman
told them how the idiot had found the poor little thing as a calf,
bleating beside the dead body of her dam, and had brought her home and
reared her.

But the children's eyes soon began to blink, and before long they were
more than half asleep; so the old woman brought in more heather and
made them up two little beds, and laid them down in their clothes.
They had a faint idea, both of them, that some one took off their shoes
and loosened their clothes about their necks, but they were too
comfortable (for heather makes the best of rude beds) to think very
much about it; and when Elsie felt vaguely that something warm was
thrown over her and that a voice said "Good-night," she had only just
wakefulness enough to whisper back good-night and to put up her cheek
to be kissed. Dick also curled up as though heather was his usual bed;
and very soon both were asleep, though at first rather fitfully and
restlessly, for they were over-tired. But whenever they woke for a
moment they were lulled to sleep by the voice of the woman, who sat on
a stool watching them and crooning a song to herself. The children
were too sleepy to catch the words, but they were as follows:

"_Oh! whither away that ye fly so fast,
Ye black crows croaking loud?
And what have ye sped that ye wheel so wide
Above yon grey dust cloud?_

"_We spy two hosts of fighting men,
The blue coats and the red.
For mile on mile in rank and file
They come with even tread._

"_And brave and bright on brass and steel
The slanting sunbeams fall.
Like giant snakes, with glittering flakes,
Their columns wind and crawl._

"_The red march north and the blue march south,
And we wheel betwixt the twain;
And we hear their song, as they tramp along,
Rise joyous from the plain._

"_The red march north and the blue march south,
And the daylight wanes apace,
'Till their fires gleam bright through the falling night,
And the twain rest face to face._

"_And the morning's thunder shall be of guns,
And the morning's mist of smoke,
And higher and higher o'er din and fire,
We crows shall rise and croak._

"_While the ranks of red and the ranks of blue
In mingled swathes are shorn;
As the poppies nigh to the cornflowers lie,
At the reaping of