“O, how dry it looks! I wonder you can bear to read such very dry books, father!”
“The book is very interesting to me, Frank,” said his father.
“I like to read travels, and stories of all kinds; stories about the sea and the land,” said Frank.
“God knew that children loved stories,” said his papa; “and he has filled his own book with the most wonderful and beautiful stories.”
“Yes, and travels and voyages too, papa,” said Alfred. “Was not that a fine voyage of Paul; and a wonderful journey which the Israelites took through the wilderness?”
“O yes!” said little Flora; “with a bright pillar going on before them at night, and a cloudy pillar all day.”
“And bread sent down from heaven for them to eat,” said Alfred.
“And cool water gushing out of the rock,” continued little Flora. “And, O, how pretty the story of the Shunamite’s little boy is, who got sick, and said, ‘My head! my head!’ I am glad Elisha made him alive again.”
“And, O, Flora,” said Alfred, “all about Elijah is so pretty! Don’t you remember how the ravens fed him in the wilderness? Was not that a wonderful story, father?”