I felt a pig for the rest of the day; it seemed such a rotten thing to have said to father.
The next time the kids had to go to church father said he was going to chuck the catechism and tell them stories instead, and let them choose their own hymns.
Aunt Amelia (who was still staying with us for our sins) observed that nothing was gained by leaving the old paths; and then father made another of those extraordinary remarks that don't seem to have the slightest connection with the rest of the conversation.
'"A Hindoo, though dying of thirst, will refuse water if offered in a foreign cup, but he will drink the same water if offered in his own."'
When daddy got into church he said to the kids,—
'It's much too hot to stay indoors this lovely day, we'll all go out and sit in the shade in the meadow.'
The children were frightfully bucked, and when they were all seated daddy said,—
'Now, somebody choose a hymn.'
Tommy Vellacott said he would like the one about the little boy who stole the old gentleman's watch. Father, with great difficulty, discovered that he meant
'The old man, meek and mild.
The Priest of Israel slept.
His watch the Temple child
The little Levite kept.'