"She and John were about a match, I guess," Farmer Morgan said, glancing at the sullen-browed young man behind the stove. "Yesterday was his unlucky day. About everything you touched broke, didn't it, John?"
"That's nothing new."
John growled out this contribution to the conversation between lips that seemed firmly closed. Lewis glanced toward his wife. How would she think they were getting on? What would she think of butter, and eggs, and accidents as topics for Sabbath conversation?
But Louise had put an arm around little Nellie, and was holding a whispered conversation with her, and at this moment broke into the talk.
"Mother, may this little maiden come and sit on my lap, if she will be very good and quiet? My arms ache for the little girlie who used to climb into them at about this hour on Sunday."
[CHAPTER VII.]
A NEW SABBATH CLASS.
"NELLIE is too big to sit on people's laps," her mother said; "but she can get up, if she wants to, and can keep from squirming about like a wild animal, instead of acting like a well-behaved little girl."
"Too big" though she was considered, Nellie, poor baby, gladly availed herself of the permission, and curled in a happy little heap in her new sister's arms; when commenced a low-toned conversation. Lewis watched her and struggled with his brain, striving to think of some way of helping.
"Have you got acquainted with Mr. Butler, father?"