He laid him right down on the floor, close up beside the fire.
I never saw such a wretched sight: he was covered thick with mire;
His clothes were torn to his very skin, and his hands were bleeding
fast.
I gave him something to tie 'em up, and all my fears were past.
I filled the fire place up with wood to get the creature warm,
And I fetched him a bowl o' milk to drink--I couldn't do him harm;
And pretty soon he says, real low, "Do you know who I be?"
And I says, "You lay there by the fire; I know you won't hurt me."
I had been fierce as any one before I saw him there,
But I pitied him--a ruined man whose life had started fair.
I somehow or 'nother never felt that I was doing wrong,
And I watched him laying there asleep almost the whole night long.
I thought once that I heard the men, and I was half afraid
That they might come and find him there; and so I went and staid
Close to the window, watching, and listening for a cry;
And he slept there like a little child--forgot his misery.
I almost hoped John wouldn't come till he could get away;
And I went to the door and harked awhile, and saw the dawn of day.
'Twas bad for him to have slept so long, but I couldn't make him go
From the City of Refuge he had found; and he was glad, I know.
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