but when i was a wee bairny , my mother used to sing me a scottish lullaby called 'schmeag schmore ' that went sort of like 'hush , little baby , ever'thin 's gon na be all right , the sheep 's in the meadow , and the cow 's in the corn , ' and i know you ca n't sing it to me , archy , but if you were to hum it real low , it would give me great comfort in my time o ' need , archy , it would ... '' chapter 52 it was a long night , one of the longest i have ever spent , but finally light began to creep through the door crack , and though i am cramped and achy , i make myself ready and steel myself for the attempt , for i know that this will be my only chance at escape before i am once again trussed up , helpless and doomed .