“And I,” said the elm; “one of many years ago, when I was but a little twig.”
“I know a home mission story too,” said White Violet.
“And I,” said the brook. “Once I was almost all dried up and could hardly reach the lake, and a dear lovely spring burst up and helped me along until the dry season was over.”
“YES, YES,” SAID THE ELM, “IT WAS.”
“And I, and I,” chorused a thousand voices.
“But what about foreign missions?” said the fish.
“I sang a beautiful song to a sad old lady in a window, this morning,” said a mocking-bird.
“That’s foreign missions,” said the chipmunk.
“Some naughty boys hid another boy’s hat yesterday, and I found it for him and blew it to his feet,” said the wind.