"Why, ma—what for? Ain't we got a good house to live in?"
"O yes, my child; but we couldn't eat the house, you know."
"Well—ain't we got flour and sugar, and other things in the store-room?"
"Certainly, my dear; but they wouldn't last long—and what then?"
"Well—ain't there enough to last, till you could get another husband?"
Mamma dried up—just as the boy had slopped over.
No. 108. A mother had been telling her little girl about the blessings above. "But will mamma be there too?" asked the child.
"Yes; you and I, and little brother, and papa." "O no, mamma," said she—"papa can't go; papa can't leave the store."
No. 109. A little four-year-old, living just out of New York, was saying the Lord's Prayer at his mother's knee. After he had finished, she said to him—
"Now, Sandy, ask God to make you a good boy."