"Then she played with some little friends, and was always sweet and gentle with them. She talked so cheerfully and lovingly—"
"That is what gives your lips that lovely smile," said Father Time again.
"She helped them in various little ways; picked up one when she fell, fetched some toys to amuse another—did all she could to make them happy. And when I left her this evening, she was as much improved as I. Do you wonder that I have had a happy day?"
"No, indeed," replied Father Time, while his children cried, in chorus,
"Oh, I wish there had been more like her!"
"Well," said the father, "now go to bed, you poor unfortunate creatures, and sleep off your woes. My rheumatism has disappeared, and I shall be able to go to earth myself to-morrow. Repeat our motto once more."
With one voice the trillions of children replied: "Tempus Fugit. Good-night."