"Yes; but what did the minister say?"
"Oh, Ethel," said crestfallen little Phil, turning to his baby sister for comfort, "you and I are too small. We can't remember what they preach, can we?"
"We won't be too hard on you, my little son," said Doctor Papa. "You are only five years old; but I am sure Mr. Lee says some things that even you can understand. Will you really try next Sunday to listen?"
"I don't know how, papa," replied the little fellow, dropping his head.
"But I only asked you to try. You can try, can't you, Philip? Now, next Sunday afternoon there will be a particularly large, yellow banana in the fruit-dish at dessert, and it will go to the small boy who can tell me something—just a little something—the minister said."
Phil's eyes began to shine. Oh, wouldn't he look straight at Mr. Lee next Sunday, and bring home lots and lots of the sermon!
"There, it's Flaxie's turn now," said he, as Flaxie with a very sober face wedged her chair between her mother and Miss Pike.
"Mr. Lee said," began she, hurriedly, "he said something about a brook,—I forget the name of the brook,—and he said something about a man,—I can't think what the man's name was,—and the ravens came and fed him."
"The ravens are right. Go on. Why did the ravens feed him?"
"I don't know, papa." Flaxie looked helpless. "I didn't hear the rest. I had to watch Ethel for fear she'd talk."