THE GOLDEN CITY
Another Sunday. The children had been to the little village church in the morning, and now after their early dinner were discussing plans for the afternoon in the school-room. It was a lovely day. The French windows were open, and the green lawn, with its fringe of young larches and birches at the bottom of it, looked very inviting to the little ones.
This lawn was their special property. It was not so smoothly rolled and cared for as were the two on which Mona had her croquet and tennis, but then, when cricket and rounders were as often the order of the day as anything else, it was not to be expected that its turf would be as well preserved. It belonged to the children, and their little feet used it well.
"Shall we be naughty or good?" questioned Bumps anxiously.
Jill screwed up her mouth and nose impatiently.
"Shut up, Bumps; you shouldn't ask such silly questions. Jack and I are going to be what we like. I don't think we shall want you at all."
"Oh, she can come if she likes," said Jack, "we may want her. We're going to play a proper Sunday game—one out of the Bible."
Jill looked at her little sister meditatively.
"She would make a good Joseph!"