“You made a mistake when you said the cake couldn’t have gone without hands; didn’t you, mamma?” said Kyzie, trying to laugh; but somehow the tears would come first.
“Mamma,” whispered Jimmy-boy,—and a lighter-hearted boy you never saw,—“mamma, put your ear down close; I want to say something. I knew all the time I didn’t do it, and I knew God knew I didn’t do it.”
“Yes, dear; that is so.”
“And I knew God would tell you and papa all about it when you got to heaven, mamma; but, oh, I didn’t want to wait!”
“No, you dear, suffering child,” replied his mother. “And, thank God, we didn’t any of us have to wait! We’re so glad to know it all now!”
And then she kissed Jimmy on his mouth and hair and eyes; and the children all gathered around, and Kyzie said,—
“Isn’t this a beautiful Sunday? I’d rather have it than a diamond ring.”
It was not till Tuesday that they learned what Jimmy had carried off in the basket; and then Mr. Somers, Dick’s father, told it, laughing, to Mr. Dunlee. It was horned toads.
Little Dick had declared that they had eyes in the backs of their heads. Jimmy and Gilbert disputed this, and told him to look for himself.
“I won’t look,” said Dick. “Guess I know! I’ll leave it to my papa if I don’t know!”