When he had reached the end of his hymn,
"Oh Father, spare thy rod;
Send us sweet sleep, Oh God;
Let our sick neighbor slumber, too"--
he suddenly burst into tears, and clinging tight to his mother he sobbed
out,
"The child will not be able to sleep, and God will punish us dreadfully."
"What are you talking about, dear Wili?" asked his mother tenderly. "Come,
tell me what has happened. I have seen all day that something was the
matter, and feared that you had been doing something wrong. What is it?
Tell me."
"We, we--perhaps we have shot a child!"
"What do you mean?" cried his mother, now thoroughly alarmed, for she
instantly recalled having seen the doctor hurry by to the cottage when
they were at dinner.
"It cannot be! Do tell me all about it, clearly, so that I can
understand."
And Wili gave as good an account as he could, of what he and Lili had
been about that morning, and of their being so frightened at the cry of
pain which followed the shooting of the arrow, that they had run away as
fast as possible.
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