Sunday knew nothing but hymns, but these he sang in a sweet little childish voice, very pleasant to listen to; and he now warbled away with all his baby might, the older children joining in the choruses.
"Where is that singing-bird?" asked a cheerful voice behind them, as Sunday ended with a pretty trill, and they all turned to see a merry-looking old gentleman coming toward them.
"It is Grandpa Week!" they all cried, bounding toward him.
"I am glad, my children, to see you so happy," he said, patting each head kindly, "and gladder still to learn from your parents that you have all remembered 'duty before pleasure.'"
"That we did," said Saturday, thinking how hard he had worked for his picnic.
"And so I have brought you some little rewards."
"What can they be?" asked the children, clustering around the old gentleman, who drew numerous packages from his capacious pockets.
"You, Monday," he said, "are 'fair of face,' so I have brought you a parasol to protect it from the sun. Tuesday is 'full of grace,' so she must have a pair of fancy slippers in which to dance and skip more lightly. Wednesday is 'merry and glad,' and this Nonsense Book will surely make him 'laugh and grow fat.' While Thursday, I am sorry to say, is so 'sour and sad,' he only deserves this birch rod; but in consideration of his progress at school I have added a collar for Tempus, and trust he will hereafter improve both his time and temper. Friday is so 'loving and giving,' I was sure nothing would please her like a knot of true-blue ribbon, and a box of sugar-plums to share with you all; while, as Saturday has to 'work hard for a living,' I shall give him his present in money, to spend as he likes."
"But have you nothing for Sunday?" asked the children.
"To be sure I have," cried Grandpa Week, catching the little boy in his arms and fastening a glittering belt about his waist.