The evening callers were chatting gaily with the Kinterbys when a patter of little feet was heard from the head of the stairs. Mrs. Kinterby raised her hand, warning the others to silence.
"Hush!" she said, softly. "The children are going to deliver their 'good-night' message. It always gives me a feeling of reverence to hear them—they are so much nearer the Creator than we are, and they speak the love that is in their little hearts never so fully as when the dark has come. Listen!"
There was a moment of tense silence. Then—"Mama," came the message in a shrill whisper, "Willy found a bedbug!"
"I was in an awkward predicament yesterday morning," said a husband to another.
"How was that?"
"Why, I came home late, and my wife heard me and said, 'John, what time is it?' and I said, 'Only twelve, my dear,' and just then that cuckoo clock of ours sang out three times."
"What did you do?"
"Why, I just had to stand there and cuckoo nine times more."