“And that He loves good girls, and will watch over them.”
“Bravo! You beat Plato.”
“No, sir, I never beat any one, except little Jack Turner; but he is a dunce.”
“Bah! What else do you teach her?”
“That the devil runs away with bad girls, and—”
“Stop there, Mr. Simcox. Never mind the devil yet a while. Let her first learn to do good, that God may love her; the rest will follow. I would rather make people religious through their best feelings than their worst,—through their gratitude and affections, rather than their fears and calculations of risk and punishment.”
Mr. Simcox stared.
“Does she say her prayers?”
“I have taught her a short one.”
“Did she learn it readily?”