"Was He a Congregashalist?"
Dr. Alton smiled, and shook his head. "Never, Cyrus! Never! He couldn't have been if he tried. And He was not the man to try. There was no cruelty in him. He was all forgiveness."
"Then he must have been a Unitarian, a Piscopalian, or Baptist or Methodist—or something like that."
Dr. Alton closed his eyes and stroked his chin.
"No—I should say not. He might possibly have been a Universalist, or a Unitarian. But why are you so interested in religion all of a sudden? Afraid you are going to die?"
"No, not now. But all lost night I was afraid."
His father took one of the small hands in both his own and smiled into the invalid's adoring face. "There's no hurry about choosing your creed, little man. Benevolent Creators are not punishing children for theological errors. But we can talk it all over later, when you are well."
Cyrus also smiled—"But tell me, father, just for fun, what religion is the best?"
"Well, Cyrus, that's hard to say. There are many to choose from."