"Fibo and I read a very interessing story in the Bible last night when I went to bed. It was about the good people who are turned into sheep, and the wicked who turn into goats. Goats don't live in heaven—only sheep. And if you want to be a proper sheep you have to do some differcult things. They're differcult for children; grown-up people could do them easily, but I've been thinking we really ought to begin some of them in case we die quickly. I shouldn't like to find myself a goat all of a sudden."
Freda and Daffy were not so fond of Bible stories as Dreamikins seemed to be. They looked bored, and Dreamikins was quick to notice it.
"Now, you just listen to me," she said, with upraised finger, "and I'll tell you what we've got to do. We've got to do six things, and if we do them to the proper people, Jesus will count it that we've done it to Him. Fibo explained it beautifully; he always does. We must give meat to somebody who's hungry, and drink to somebody who's thirsty, and take into our houses a stranger. That's what made me begin to think of it. Fancy how many strangers you could take in this big house! And we must visit somebody who's sick, and somebody who's in prison, and we must give a poor, naked, ragged beggar some clothes."
"We couldn't do it possibly," said Freda emphatically.
But Daffy's eyes began to shine.
"Oh yes, we could; it would be beautiful!" she said.
Dreamikins put her arms round her and hugged her.
"You and me will begin it, and then Freda will, too," she said. "We must. Cherubine will help. She thinks we ought to."
The little heads got close together. Nurse was sewing by the window, so they talked in whispers.
And then, all too soon, Jane appeared, saying that "Miss Broughton's maid" had arrived to take her home.