Mrs. Burton went to the piano, rambled among chords for a few seconds, and finally recalled a Sunday-school air in which Toddie joined as angelically as if his own musical taste had never been impugned.
“Now, I guess we’d better take up the collection before any little boys lose their pennies,” said Budge, hurrying to the dining-room, and returning with a strawberry-box which seemed to have been specially provided for the occasion; this he passed gravely before Toddie, and Toddie held his hand over it as carefully as if he were depositing hundreds, and then Toddie took the box and passed it before Budge, who made the same dumb show, after which Budge retook the box, shook it, listened, remarked, “It don’t rattle—I guess it’s all paper-money to-day,” placed it upon the mantel, reseated himself, and remarked:
“Now bring on your lesson.”
BUDGE TAKING UP THE COLLECTION
Mrs. Burton opened her Bible with a sense of helplessness. With the instinct of a person given to thoroughness, she opened at the beginning of the book, but she speedily closed it again. Turning the leaves rapidly; passing, for conscience’s sake, the record of many a battle, the details of which would have delighted the boys, and hurrying past the prophecies as records not for the minds of children, she at last reached the New Testament and the ever-new story of the only boy who ever was all that his parents and relatives could wish him.
“The lesson will be about Jesus,” said Mrs. Burton.
“Little-boy Jesus or big-man Jesus?” asked Toddie.
“A—a—both,” replied the teacher, in confusion.
“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “G’won.”