A young mother was about to hear her small girl's prayers when a neighbor called and said she must see the mother right away. They had been talking at the front door several minutes when a reproachful little voice came from the top of the stairway:
"Mamma, aren't you 'shamed to keep God waiting so long?"
It was the week before little Willie's birthday, and he was on his knees at his bedside petitioning Divine Providence for presents in a very loud voice.
"Please send me," he shouted, "a bicycle, a tool chest, a—"
"What are you praying so loud for?" his younger brother interrupted. "God ain't deaf."
"I know he ain't," said little Willie, winking toward the next room, "but grandma is."
MARJORIE—"Will I get everything I pray for, mama?"
MOTHER (cautiously)—"Everything that's good for you, dear."