“And you think he does in other things?” the captain said, in a tone of inquiry.
“It does seem a little so sometimes, papa,” she replied; “but maybe it’s only because I’m lazy.”
“Laziness is a very bad complaint; not at all to be encouraged,” he said. “I think you are not indolent as regards physical exertion, but I fear you are sometimes a little so when mental effort is what is required of you.”
“Papa,” said Max, “you make Sunday a very pleasant day to us; and so did Grandma Elsie and Mamma Vi when we were at Ion. But before that—when I lived with that old—”
“Max, Max,” interrupted his father in a reproving tone.
Max colored and hung his head.
“I want you to refrain from speaking so disrespectfully of even that man,” his father went on. “I grant that he did not treat you with kindness or even justice, but, my dear boy, try to forgive and forget it all. I am very glad you find Sunday pleasant now. I would have you all esteem it as the pearl of days.”
He spared no effort to make it both a happy and a sacred day to them, a day when worldly cares, labors and amusements, even such as are lawful on other days, were to be laid aside, and the whole time spent in a holy resting, in worshiping and praising God, and studying his word in order to learn his will that they might conform their faith and lives to it.
Three brighter faces than those that met his glance on entering the school room at the appointed hour on Monday morning could hardly have been found anywhere.
“You do not look as though lessons were a terror to you to-day, my darlings,” he said, smiling upon them with fatherly affection.