CHAPTER VII
“That,” murmured Mrs. Burton on Tuesday morning, as she prepared to descend to the breakfast table, “promises a pleasant day.” Then, in a louder tone, she said to her husband: “Harry, just listen to those dear children singing! Aren’t their voices sweet?”
“’Sing before breakfast, cry before dark,’” quoted Mr. Burton, quoting a popular saying.
“For shame!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “And when they’re singing sweet little child-hymns too! There! they’re starting another.”
Mrs. Burton took the graceful listening attitude peculiar to ladies, her husband stood in the military position of “attention,” and both heard the following morceau:
“I want—to be—an an—gel
An’ with—the an—gels stand;
A crown—upon—my fore—head
A hop—per in—my hand.”
“Hopper—h’m!” said Mr. Burton. “They refer to the hind-leg of a grasshopper, my dear. The angelic life would be indeed dreary to those youngsters without some such original plaything.”