“Nell Stanley,” Amy said, “certainly has her own troubles.”
“I do not see how the doctor stands it,” commented Mrs. Brandon sympathetically.
“The Reverend is the greatest man in the world,” declared Nell, with conviction. “He is wonderful. He takes the most annoying things so composedly. Why, you remember when he went to Bridgeton a month ago to speak at the local Sunday School Union? Something awfully funny happened. It would have floored any man but the Reverend.”
“What happened?” asked Amy. “I bet it was a joke. Your father, Nell, always tells the most delightful stories.”
“This isn’t a story. It is so,” chuckled Nell. “But I suppose that was why they asked him to amuse and entertain the little folks at one session of the Union. Father talked for fifteen minutes, all about Jacob’s ladder, and those old stories. And not a kid of ’em went to sleep.
“He said he was proud to see them so wide awake, and when he was closing he thought he would find out if they really had been attentive. So he said:
“‘And now, is there any little boy or any little girl who would like to ask me a question?’
“And one boy called out: ‘Say, Mister, if the angels had wings why did they walk up and down Jacob’s ladder?’”
“Mercy!” ejaculated Mrs. Brandon. “What could he say?”
“That is it. You can’t catch the Reverend,” laughed Nell, proudly. “And nothing ever confuses him or puts him out. He just said: