No. 177. A fair Inference.—"Mamma," said a promising chap of four summers, "if the people are all made of dust, ain't the colored folks made of coal-dust?"
No. 178. Not so bad.—A well-known, faithful teacher of Bridgeport, who has charge of an infant class in a Sunday-school there, reports the following case. Not long ago he was talking with them about the origin of Christmas:—
"Where was Christ born?" he asked.
"In Bethlehem."
"Where is Bethlehem?"
"In Judea."
"Who first knew that Christ was born?"
"His mother."
No. 179. As the Spirit moveth.—A little Quaker boy, about six years old, after sitting, like the rest of the congregation, in dead silence, all being afraid to speak first, as he thought, got up on the seat, and folding his arms over his breast, murmured, in a sweet, clear voice, just loud enough to be distinctly heard on the fore-seat, "I do wish the Lord would make us all gooder—and gooder—and gooder—till there is no bad left." Would a longer prayer have been more to the purpose?
No. 180. A Non Sequitur.—"What have you done with your doll, Amy?" "Lock it up, papa; doin' to teep it for my itty dirl, when I get big, jess like mamma." "Ah, but if you shouldn't have any little girl?" "Never mind, papa—then I'll dive it to my g'an'chile."