But the minister's grace was a little longer than she liked, for he was trying hard to feel grateful. I think some people mistake pleasure and satisfaction for thankfulness: Mr. Drake was not so to be taken in. Ere long, however, he found them a good soil for thankfulness to grow in.—So Amanda fidgeted not a little, and the moment the grace was over—
"Now 'en! now 'en!" she almost screamed, her eyes sparkling with delight. "'Iss is dinner!—'Ou don't have dinner every day, Miss Mellidif!"
"Be quiet, Ducky," said her aunt, as she called her. "You mustn't make any remarks."
"Ducky ain't makin' no marks," returned the child, looking anxiously at the table-cloth, and was quiet but not for long.
"Lisbef say surely papa's sip come home wif 'e nice dinner!" she said next.
"No, my ducky," said Mr. Drake: "it was God's ship that came with it."
"Dood sip!" said the child.
"It will come one day and another, and carry us all home," said the minister.
"Where Ducky's yeal own papa and mamma yive in a big house, papa?" asked
Amanda, more seriously.
"I will tell you more about it when you are older," said Mr. Drake. "Now let us eat the dinner God has sent us." He was evidently far happier already, though his daughter could see that every now and then his thoughts were away; she hoped they were thanking God. Before dinner was over, he was talking quite cheerfully, drawing largely from his stores both of reading and experience. After the child was gone, they told Juliet of their good fortune. She congratulated them heartily, then looked a little grave, and said—