There are varying rites, differing in their nature as in their purpose, but each according to its purpose inviolate and invincible.
"I know Georgia's count out?" said Emmy Lou. "Eeny, meeny, miny, mo? Will that do?"
But Aunt Cordelia, however sorely tempted, could not bring herself, honest soul, to agree that it would. Nor yet Aunt Katie.
Aunt Louise came tipping in and joined them.
"I know Mary's cake count," said Emmy Lou. "'One of butter, two of sugar, three of flour, four eggs.' Will that do?"
Not even Aunt Louise could agree that it would.
Uncle Charlie came tipping in.
"I know Papa's blessing," said Emmy Lou. "'We thank Thee, Lord, for this provision of Thy bounty. . . ?'"
"The very thing," said Uncle Charlie heartily. "Set her up on her knees again, Cordelia, and let her say it."
And Papa's blessing had served now, night and morning, since, though it was evident to those about her that Emmy Lou was both dubious and uneasy.