Everybody has heard of the little girl who, on being asked, after her first visit to an Episcopal church, how she liked the service, replied that it was "all very nice, only the man preached in his shirt sleeves." That story may or may not be true, but it is true that a little girl in New Jersey said on a similar occasion, "Oh, mamma, the minister had on a long white apron to keep his clothes clean."
Another young church-goer, the daughter of a well-known Baptist clergyman in Brooklyn, who was a critic in her way, and who had a faint suspicion that anecdotes generally were "made up" for the occasion, went one day with her father to hear his Thanksgiving sermon. He told a melting story about his poor blind brother who, notwithstanding his infirmity, was always cheerful and happy. The audience was deeply impressed, and many, including the speaker himself, were moved to tears. On her return home, Mary, we will call her, said, with deep earnestness, "Papa, when you were telling that about Uncle Nat this morning, did you say the real truth, or were you only preaching?"
A four-year-old Sunday-school girl did the best she could with a question that was asked of the infant class. Said the teacher, reading from Isaiah, xxxvii. 1: "'And it came to pass, when King Hezekiah heard it that he rent his clothes.' Now what does that mean, children—he rent his clothes?" Up went a little hand. "Well, if you know, tell us."
"Please, ma'am," said the child, timidly, "I s'pose he hired 'em out." (This is an actual fact, and the name of the town where it occurred begins with "M.")
A pretty anecdote is told of a little girl to whom the unseen world is very real. "Where does God live, mamma?" she asked, one evening, after saying her prayers.
"He lives in heaven, my dear, in the Celestial City whose streets are paved with gold."