What a short forenoon it seemed! Right after lunch they were to meet in the library. Maybee drew a big chair behind papa’s desk for a pulpit, and placed the chairs in rows for the pews. Then it occurred to her, with mamma for choir, there was nobody left for congregation, and she coaxed Bridget in from the kitchen, rather against that individual’s inclination.
First they sang the Sabbath School hymn, “Better than thrones”; then papa prayed a short prayer, so simple Maybee could understand every word, after which he gave out the text, and called upon Sue for her part of the sermon. Sue had it neatly written out, and read,—
| GOD IS THE JUDGE. | |
|---|---|
| Those that walk in pride he is able to abase. | Yet setteth he the poor on high from affliction, and maketh him families like a flock. |
| He casteth the wicked down to the ground. | The Lord lifteth up the meek. |
| Thine heart was lifted up because of thy beauty; thou hast corrupted thy wisdom by reason of thy brightness: I will cast thee to the ground. | Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up. |
| There are the workers of iniquity fallen: they are cast down, and shall not be able to rise. | Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him. I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. |
| For the arms of the wicked shall be broken. | But the Lord upholdeth the righteous. |
“Very well. Now, Maybee.”—
And Maybee counted off on her fingers, carefully using her right hand for the good men, “Jacob, Joseph, Moses, David, Solomon”; and then with her left hand, “Pharaoh, Saul, Jeroboam,—and—and—I can’t think, but lots of little bits of kings what wouldn’t mind him.”
“Does the text mean God always promotes the good and puts down the wicked?” asked papa.
“Oh, it can’t,” returned Sue, “because there’s Esq. Ellis, ever so rich, and he never goes to church; and Say Ellis’s mother is real poor, and just as good as she can be. And you know Varney Lowe’s father has failed, and everybody calls him good.”
“They don’t live in the Bible,—that’s why,” said Maybee. “God put all my wicked folks right down, and let all the good ones have real nice times.”
“How was it with poor David when he was hiding away from Saul?”
“Oh, I see!” cried Sue. “It means He will, sometime; but”—and her face clouded again—“there’s Aunty McFane, just as patient and good; she’s always had dreadful times, and she’s so old she can’t live a great while longer.”