C. She is just going to wake up, mother! she is smiling and moving her little hands.
M. No, she is only dreaming; don’t hold the curtain back so far, the sun shines on her face.
C. I wonder what she is dreaming about; she looks very sober now; what a pity she can’t tell us when she wakes! Mother, I shall be glad when Susan grows a little bigger, and can run about, and talk, and play with me; I don’t think a little baby is good for much.
M. And what if she should never grow up, Charles?
C. What! be always a little baby?
M. No, my son; what if she should die?
C. Die! O, that can’t be; she has only just begun to live.
M. Who made her live?
C. God, you told me.
M. And cannot God make her die when he pleases?