"Aunt May-ee," said the little thing to her aunt, who was combing her hair, "I don't like Dod."
"Don't like God, Sissy! when He's so good to you, and gives you Aunt Mary and grandpa, and grandma, and ever so many friends to take care of you,—why, Sissy?"
"Well, but"—growing thoughtful and trying to escape—"well, but Sissy don't like black Dod."
"There isn't any black God, Sissy."
"Then who made Chloe?"
Did not that child reason?
No. 2. "'Top, mother!" said a little boy to his mother, who was reading to him about Abraham and Isaac, and had just come to the uplifted knife; "'top, mother! I don't want to hea any more. I despise him." Did not that child feel? and is it conceivable that he meant what he said? Feeling his gorge rise, with abhorrence, it may be, and not understanding the awful significance of the threatened sacrifice, a type of what afterwards happened on Mount Moriah, where the Temple stands, he took that word which, in his little childish experience, best corresponded with his thought of horror and amazement that a father should put his child to death.
No. 3. And this reminds me of a little girl, who had never learned to read, but used to take her Bible and sit down by herself in the corner, as all children do at times, and make believe read. One day, when the mother was very busy, the child wanted to hear about Noah and the Ark. The mother had read over certain passages aloud so often, that the child had got them by heart. She opened at the place, and gave her little one the book in her lap. After awhile, the child began to murmur to herself—the mother listened—and the little thing read as follows, with the greatest possible seriousness and unction: "And the Lord said unto Noah, Come out, thou and thy wife, and thy sons' wives and thy daughters, and—balancez!"
The dear little puss had just begun to go to the dancing-school. What wonder that she didn't always know her head from her heels?
No. 4. Another little girl, who had been favored with glimpses of the upper sky, having been told by her mother that she was always surrounded by guardian angels, grew very thoughtful, and, after drawing a long breath, looked up and said, "Mamma, do you mean really that all the whole time they are with me?" On receiving a solemn assurance in the affirmative, she exclaimed with an impatient fling, "Well, really, I should like to be alone a little while, sometimes."