Daisy found that was a good time for her own prayers; there
was nothing to disturb her, and nothing to be heard at all,
except that soft sound of Juanita's voice, and the clear
trills and quavers of the little birds' voices in the trees.
There was no disturbance in any of those sounds; nothing but
joy and gladness and the voice of melody from them all.
By and by, when the light began to kindle in the tops of the
trees, and Daisy was sure to be watching it and trying to get
sight of some of the bird singers which were so merry up
there, she would hear another sound by her bedside, or feel a
soft touch; and there would be Juanita, as bright as the day,
in her way of looking bright, bending over to see and find out
how Daisy was. Then, having satisfied herself, Juanita would
go about the business of the morning. First her fire was made,
and the kettle put on for breakfast. Daisy used to beg her to
leave the door open, so that, though she could not follow her
with her eyes and see, she could yet hear what Juanita was
doing. She used to listen to hear the kindling put in the
stove, and the wood; she knew the sound of it; then, when the
match was lit and applied, she liked the rushing sound of the
blaze and kindling fire; it gave pleasant token that the
kettle would be boiled by and by.
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