"I can't remember it often," he replied. "I know I ought."
Redbud looked at him with her soft, kind eyes, and said:
"But you pray?"
"Sometimes."
"Not every night?"
"No."
Redbud looked pained;
"Oh! you ought to," she said.
"I know I ought, and I'm going to," said the young man; "the fact is,
Redbud, we have a great deal to be thankful for."
"Oh, indeed we have!" said Redbud; earnestly—"all this beautiful world: the sunshine, the singing of the birds, the health of our dear friends and relatives; and everything—"