One day after family prayers, Josiah had been readin’ about the New Jerusalem, and I spoze Adrian’s curosity wuz rousted up, and sez he, “Aunt Samantha, where is Heaven? Is it up in the sky, or where is it?”
“Aunt Samantha, where is Heaven? Is it up in the sky?”
And I sez, “Sometimes I have thought, Adrian, it wuz right here all round us, if we could only see it.”
“I wonder if I could find it?” sez he, and he peered all round him in the old-fashionedest way I ever see.
Sez he, “I spoze my pretty Mamma is there; I guess she wants me dreadfully sometimes; I am a very bright little boy—I am very agreeable.”
“But,” I sez, “that hain’t pretty for you to talk so.”
“Why, Papa sez I am, and he sez I am his wise little partner, and my Papa knows everything that wuz ever known—he knows more than any other man in the world.”
And I sez to myself, “No, he don’t. He don’t know enough to be jest, from all I’ve hearn of his doin’s.”
But I didn’t wonder that Adrian thought as he did, or Alice either, for if there wuz ever a indulgent and lovin’ father on earth, it wuz Martin Smith.