"Yes," I said with confidence.
"And never had to wear any clothes?"
More faintly I answered "No, I suppose not."
"Well," he said, "the garden would have had to be made much bigger for all the children that were to come."
"Yes," I said, "I suppose the whole world would have been a garden," but I was glad to leave the subject and get on to firmer ground.
However, this Sunday when I asked them to tell me the story, they went on swimmingly until I asked who ate the apple first. Most chivalrously they all answered, "Adam."
"No," I said, "I am sorry to say it was Eve."
"Then," piped up the squeaky little voice, "then, Miss Patience, women are badder than men."
"Oh, no," I exclaimed, "but Eve was beguiled by the serpent, who told her the fruit would make her wise. The great Creator made man first, and meant him to be the protector and guide of the woman, and when she offered him the apple, he should have refused and said, 'Light of my eyes, we must not eat it. The Great Being who made us and gave us this beautiful home forbid us to eat of that fruit.' But Adam failed in his duty and ate the apple, and they were driven out."
My sturdy little brown-eyed thinker, who had been listening with profound attention, said:—