“Mamma always holds me,” pouted Maybee, dragging up her little rocker rather reluctantly.
“Such a great big girl! I should be ashamed. I never wanted to tire my mother that way,” said Aunt Cynthia, turning over one paper after another.
“I don’t believe she ever wanted you to,” muttered Maybee, curling her head down on the sofa-pillow, and preparing to listen.
Aunt Cynthia put on her glasses, cleared her throat, and began:—
“‘Ma! get me the Bible, ma! I’m going to commence to be good, for there is a comet coming that’s going to strike the earth and burn it up!’ said little Frank one day, as he ran with great haste into the room where his mother was sitting.
“‘There is a Bible on the table, my son,’ said his mother; ‘but who has been talking with you about the comet?’
“‘Oh! I heard the men in the yard say so. Where shall I read? It has opened here itself. Shall I read aloud, ma?’
“Frank answered his mother’s question, and then without waiting for his mother to reply to what he had asked her, began to read from the book of Malachi as follows: ‘For behold the day cometh that shall burn as an oven, and all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly shall be as stubble, and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts.’ Here he paused, and seemed to be reading to himself; then in a manner more composed he said, ‘Is that about the comet, ma?’
“But his mother was prevented from replying by the entrance of her brother, who presently, noticing Frank was reading the Bible, inquired if he was studying his Sabbath School lesson.
“Frank replied that he was not, and added ‘I’m afraid the comet is coming to burn the earth, uncle.’