Amy—Dear Blessed Mother please make poor Miss Ogden well. I heard her tell my Mamma she was afraid to die; and she is very sick. She has such a sad face, and she looks mis'able.
Bolax—Sister, won't you ask lots of things for me? I'm afraid to ask 'cause I was naughty this morning. I dyed pussy's hair with Papa's red ink.
Amy—No, I won't ask any more favors; Mamma says we must be thankful for all we get, so let us sing a hymn of thanks.
Here Papa came upstairs calling for his babies. Mrs. Allen not wishing to disturb the children, beckoned him into her room, hoping he would listen to the innocent prattle of his little ones. All unconscious of being observed, the children continued to entertain their heavenly guests.
Mr. Allen not being a Catholic, was more shocked than edified at what he thought the hallucination of the children, and spoke rather sternly to his wife. "All this nonsense comes from your constant talk on subjects beyond the comprehension of children. Amy is an emotional child; she will become a dreamer, a spiritualist; it will affect her nervous system and you will have yourself to blame.
"As for Bolax, I have no fear for him. He'll never be too pious. I'm willing to——" Here they were startled by a most unearthly yell, and Master Bo rushed into the room, saying that Amy would not let him play with her.
"Why won't she?" asked Papa.
"Oh, because I upset St. Joseph; I wanted to take the chairs for a train of cars."
Papa broke into a fit of laughter, and said: "Bo, Bo, you're the funniest youngster I ever heard of."
Poor Little Amy came into the room, looking as if ready to cry, telling her mother she would never again have that boy when her company came. "Just think, dear Ma, Bo said he liked monkeys better than angels."