'I want to bring you up as your mother would have done,' he said to True one day.
'We'll bring ourselves along, dad,' she responded cheerfully; 'we're trying hard to be good, and we pray to God to manage us when we can't remember in time.'
'Father,' said Bobby one Sunday afternoon, 'do you fink I could ever save your life?'
'I don't know, I'm sure, sonny. What makes you ask?'
'In my reading lesson yesterday—it was about the mouse who saved a lion—it was very difficult to think how he could; but he reely did it, didn't he?'
'Yes, and I suppose you think it applies to you. Well, now, let us think. I must be put in prison somewhere, and you must come and let me out.'
'But you'd have to be wicked to be put in prison,' objected True. 'You couldn't be wicked, dad.'
'I hope I couldn't, but I don't know. I think I would rather not get into such a scrape, Bobby.'
'I should like to do somefing for you,' said Bobby with wistful eyes.
'Why?' asked his father.