"Mrs. Hansell, you might let them draw," he said; "strips of paper, you know. Now that's the very idea!" He clapped his hands like a boy. "Now, Matthew, get the pieces."
"It's the littlest, ain't it?" said Matthew, hurrying, as fast as the dignity of the great coat and tippet would allow, to obey the minister.
"No, no, the longest," said the minister, laughing. "Now, girls, you must stand in a row—there—and toe that crack. That's it," as they scuttled into place on the old kitchen floor. "Now then, my boy, hurry up." He was as excited as the children themselves, and found it as difficult to wait.
"Now shut your eyes," and he turned his eyes on the line of girls, while Matthew handed him the little strips.
"Tilly's peekin'," announced Luke.
"I ain't," said Matilda, twisting her eyelids tightly together; "not a single squint, so there, Luke Hansell."
"Well, all ready!" The minister whirled around, the little strips neatly placed, and all presenting the same appearance, between his two hands. "Matilda, you're the oldest; you may draw first."
"O dear! I don't know which one," said Matilda, putting out her brown hand, then drawing it back with a jerk.
"Of course not," said Matthew, bursting into a laugh; "if you did that would be peekin'."
"Well, you must hurry, and give your sisters a chance," said the minister.