We're gonna run a giveaway before we hop into this one. As you guys know, on Monday of this week, or as actually Sunday, we ran a Cyber Monday, Cyber Sunday sale, and I gave away a hundred free fishing lures and two fishing reels. In today's video, we're running a YouTube giveaway, and I have another sale going on, but let me show you exactly what I'm giving away.  If you wanna enter this giveaway, all you have to do, be subscribed to the channel. Hit that notification bell. Also, hit that like button on today's video. Drop some video ideas in the comment section down below in your inner for a chance to win those baits right there.  But also, if you guys wanna go over to kickintheirbast.com, check out some of the merch. This is what we're gonna do. In the next three hours from when this video is posted, three hours, every hat order, I'm gonna actually give a free lanyard, too. So within the next three hours, if you order a hat, it doesn't matter if it's this hat or the other big bass energy hat, you will automatically get a free lanyard. In the first three hours, though, you guys better check the clock, go on the website right now. You better hurry up while you can, kickintheirbast.com. Thank you guys so much for repping the merch, everybody that supported me with the brand. It really helps with my traveling and gas money, and I just cannot thank you guys enough for that. We're gonna go ahead and hop into today's video. Me and Fletcher went out on the lake and we caught some pretty good fish. We had a great time and all on out, it was a fun video. So I hope you guys enjoyed this one. Hit the like button if you guys haven't been enjoying the content. Let's go ahead and hop into this one. Love you guys. All right guys, we just made it out on the water. Ready to get it started today. I have a few polls that I wanna show you guys, exactly what I'm throwing. It's actually pretty basic from some of the other polls from the other videos, but on this new mock crush, which is phenomenal, I wanted to show you guys this. Look at this, look how beautiful a paint job is on that reel and rod right there. It is a sweet looking combo, the brand new mock crush. I got a little Texas rig, EWG hook lead weight. I have a crankbait on my mock smash and then on my mock two and custom pro, I have a chatterbait. This is like my favorite chatterbait combo right here. So what I've been using for a while and I have 17 pound fluorocarbon. So we're gonna go ahead and hop into this. I think I'm gonna start off with the chatterdonk.  So let's go ahead and get it started. It's gonna be a good day. Let's make it happen. First I need a new trailer because that is not gonna work right there. There we go. All right, I'm ready, Fletcher. Ready to get after? By the way, I have Fletcher with me. I don't know if I said that. What's going on? I'm just getting carried away. I'm ready to catch.  You scared. Let's get her started, man. See how they're biting today. Earlier this morning we actually filmed a bank fishing video and it was super cloudy out and now, well now the clouds just came back out. On the drive here it was sunny, I promise, but. Yeah, it was cloudy then it was sunny. It was rainy, it was cloudy and then it was sunny and now it is cloudy again. So might catch some of these bass roaming right now. Yeah, the weather's been just so weird changing every two seconds but I guess we're gonna see how they bite today. Check around this chatter dog by this bridge to see if there's some fish that wanna munch. I like the winds picking up a little bit too. Yeah, help out that bite. And dead calm, I'm sorry. The old crankbait, did you really? Whack, yeah. Well, that bite's gonna be that crazy. So I'm just gonna hop into it. Fletcher's first cast on the crankbait out here. Usually a bunch of bait fish right out here in the middle.  I hope you're ready to get fired up. Yeah, the 14's not gonna do it in here and that other lake we were in, it would work but I'm not on this spot. What are you gonna cut off that 10? Yeah, I'm gonna take the 10 off. You know what, let's try it. This is kind of wacky and it might be the juicier today. They're two different collings, if one of us starts to act more than the other. See advantage in fishing with two poops to figure out the fish twice as fast. Yep. So guys, I talk about it a lot here in the fall time. I like using my natural colors but I also love throwing something that's just out there because this is how you gotta think about it. I've said this in my videos a lot. You know, traditionally in the fall time, people are gonna start throwing their natural colors and you gotta think about it this way. The bass might always see that natural color and then you might throw something that's completely opposite to everybody else and you might get a lot of bites, especially at a pressured area that people fish a lot. So we're gonna tie this on. Fletcher's throwing a natural, I'm gonna throw this just wacky, chartreuse, blue looking one and who knows, it might just do the trick. You just gotta try new things and if we're not getting bites on it, we'll throw some melts but let's get to casting. You said this one dies what? Seven. Seven? It should be perfect. Perfect. Hopefully we will get on a crazy cast after cast crankbait bite today. Once we fire them up, I feel like it'll be good if they're here. Might have to go hunt for them. Try out there in the middle too, are there? Make some up a little bit. He's right there.  On the juice color. It didn't take long. What about that Fletcher? Look at that. All right, now you gotta double up. Yeah, crankbait. Say that again? No. I'm not a seven foot diver. Look at that. It's about a three pounder. Got him in the face. Concerns me about this color, but at the same time, I'm so sorry, buddy. Let me get you off of here. Yeah. Dude, that's a good fish. He got it right there in a good place. I got you, buddy. Thank you for biting, though. We're gonna get you right back in the water.  Not gonna do anything.  Thank you so much, though. That's a good first fish, is it not? I'll take that all day. Look at that. That's almost a three pounder with how long he is. He's just, he's thick, too. He just doesn't have like a pot belly. Yeah. That's a high two right there. I promise you that. Heck yeah. Caught one fish in 10 minutes. It's pretty good.  Or maybe we need to throw out in the middle because I remember that one day they were stacked out here really good. Did he come off that fountain right there? Yeah, he did. He was about five foot to the right of that fountain. Dude, that is like the fifth time I've seen that right there. There's a lot of baitfish popping right here on this corner. Yeah, there. Any bait, yeah. No, I need... Oh, gosh, Fletcher. Holy s***. Dude, you should have felt that bite.  Makes me think they don't want this color, but I'm gonna keep throwing it. Of course, right? It's a little hard to start here. I'm gonna switch up to a chatter dunk. Propose something a little bit different. Oh, yeah. On the chatter bait, about threw myself in the water right there. There's nibbling on the end of it. There's biting weird. Maybe that spot over there about... Dude, look at the boils right there. There's some fish right there. There's gotta be. I don't think that's a turtle. There it is. Freakin' biggin'. Oh, yeah. Oh. Yep. That's bass boiling right there. You see the other boil? Double up with me, homie. This fish fighting hard as can be. I think it's only... It's a good one, dude. It's like three pounds. Two pounds. Two number. It's a lot bigger out there. He did, didn't he?  He's got a one-pound body, but with how fat he is, he's definitely up there.  That's a beautiful little chunk. I was acting on the chatterbait earlier today. Maybe that's just a good one. Yeah, they love that chatterbait. We saw multiple boils and we didn't know if it was a dang turtle or what it was, because earlier I was like, oh, look at that. There's bait and it ended up being a turtle. I promise you there's more fish here. I threw a cast before that, had one bite me, threw back in there, caught that. It's a good little sign. All right, guys. That's two fish in the boat right now and I'm just throwing this chatterbait, like I said earlier, there's white and chartreuse. I've caught one fish on a crankbait, one on the chatterbait. Now we're just gonna skim put, gotta love it. We're just gonna skip under some of these trees and work up to this bridge. And once we go into the open part of this lake, probably gonna pick up them crankbaits and try to fire this fish off off shore. I think that's gonna be the best bite today where me and Fletcher both pick up that crankbait and it's just one after another. One after another and we have a good time doing that. If you fire them up, that's some of the most fun, but for the time being, we're gonna see if we can pick up maybe a big one under one of these trees. Maybe this is a way for a big bite. That's a big one. Dude, what? I watched that. He's skinny, but he's got a huge head. The second wave, the second wave. Dude, yo, that's a good fish. That is a really good fish on the chatterbait right there. He ate it on the fall, dude. I had like a little bit of a backlash from the skin right there. That could be a four pounder and it's like two and a half without skinny hands. He's got a giant head on him, but he's just... Dude, look at that. That's a five pounder. He's so skinny. What? He's so skinny. That's depressing. And he's got a soft plastic in his mouth. Does he? Yeah, look at that. Maybe that's what's wrong with him, man. Ew. Ew. That's the old soft plastic. Shoot, I mean. Dude, look at that. That should be a five pounder. I don't understand why that fish is... This could be a really good one. Put oil on the scale. I promise you that fish is two and a quarter. I bet he doesn't weigh anything.  Dude, that fish should be four pounds every bit of it, but he's gonna be two and a half, watch. If that. There's two and a half, it's somewhere around there. It's two 12. But... Two and three quarters? Yeah, it's two 12. Honestly, it weighed more than I thought it did, but just like gross, not that healthy fish right there. Yeah, I looked up and I kind of saw, you know how they dive over it? Yeah. I kind of saw that. I was like, what in the world? Pick up this crankbait because just about every loon in town is over here munching on baitfish. I can see the baitfish coming out of the top right there. Something just splashed over there. I didn't know what that was, but... Right here. I'm gonna throw this crankbait for a minute and I might put back on a 10 footer. Yeah. Hey, Fletcher. You on? That didn't take long? He came off. You know, it was a dang good one, it's on. They're not eating that color, right? It's on the crank. It's on the crank. It's on the crank. It's on the crank, man. I actually felt like a moose.  Really? Set up. Yeah, we got one over there. Over there off the dock there, we're schoolin' up on some shad and... Oh, nope, it's okay. That's it. That was actually hilarious. That was so funny. So funny. The moment you hook that tree and he realized it was a tree, he turned around like he didn't even talk to you. I felt some second hand embarrassment on that one.  Oh, there he is. Oh, it was a tree. That's amazing. It's time. I'm ready for the smackdown. I'm not talking about one here and there, Fletcher. I'm talking about the smackdown. Talking about two or three double ups in a row.  There he is. You want one? Yep. That's the one I like to see. He actually ate it. That is the first one that's ate it. Look. Oh yeah, he ate it. Like, actually ate it. That's the first one I've seen do that in days. Look at that. Choked it. Pretty colors on that. The best. Give them pliers up there again. You know, the other day I was like, I wish they choked it, but honestly, not rather than not. So it's not that hard to get the hook on. The only time you want to check it when it's a giant, you don't throw it. Becks. That's a small one. You're going? I was gonna say that's a, yeah, I do have one. I mean.  Oh, that's a better one. Is it bigging? It's the opposite of choked. This one is barely on there. Oh, that's two pounders though. All right, I'm gonna just release mine. That's a double up. That is a double up. I'm, you guys witnessing it? He's barely. I'm gonna throw him back. Oh, okay. Quick release. That's fine. You got a big one? Yeah. He's small. Is that your first one or did you cut? Is it? That was awesome. You got it. You need some pliers? Here, go over to them. I'm gonna help you get it out. Let's see it for you. That's a good one though. Yeah, that's a really good one.  It's all right. Y'all caught any more? Yeah, we caught a few. Seven? You. See how I took it out? You can see it now. I'm gonna go behind those gills. I should be able to. Is this kicking their bass TV? Mine's a fluttered fisherman. I honestly think I've heard of kicking bass TV. Have you? That's funny. Probably a pretty good chance of that if you're into fishing. You want to take a picture with it? No, I'm not. You sure? Put them there again. I'm not winning the paper. I'm perfect. We just get like a 10 mile per hour. There he is. I can't tell he's big. He's not big, but he sure felt big. Sometimes they get it weird. See how he got it? So we've been talking about it. They haven't been eating except for that last fish the last couple of days. And you can tell he just wiped at it. It's how the first one was and they get it in their face. And it's cool because they're easy to get off the hook, but when you hook a big one and it's in the side of his head like that, they use that weight momentum. It'll come up to the top of the water and spit it. Switch over to that natural color. That's a good little fat guy, man. Look how chunky he is.  I'm about to say if he had some shad in his mouth. Pretty dude, pretty colors.   Today's different. You know, we've kind of had, we have one double up. Rather than that, it's kind of been a bite here, a bite there. So we're gonna see if we can fire him up down this lane. Alrighty, saw that fish right down this lane. That's actually where I missed that fish earlier or didn't miss him, but he came off and it felt like a big one. Might be some more stacked up down there. Alright guys, we're gonna head to a new spot. Actually throwing out the crankbaits for an old troll. If you've seen in the recent videos, we've got a few fish doing it. So I would not surprise me right now. As good as they've been roaming and eating this bait and chasing these crankbaits, you know, will not surprise me if we catch one in a second troll on this. So we just traveled across the lake and we're gonna hit this spot where it's a big flat and it's actually pretty shallow. So I wanna throw that and I don't wanna throw the Sherbert crankbait just because I think they're scared of the old Sherb. This one looks like the little bait fish. I'm trying to match what you showed me in that fish's mouth earlier. We've had days on this spot guys that are undescribable. Like there would be so many bass stacked up that we're just throwing cast after cast after cast. If it's like that today, we're about to experience something crazy, but I don't know. Oh, Becky. Got one. Becky. Well, she's a big one. Is she? No. She's hooked like a, why? Can I just like, I really wanna pull up every fish clip on a crankbait in the last couple of days. Everyone's had the bait on the outside of their mouth. Everyone has been hooked identically. Like exactly how this fish is hooked except for that one earlier.  Uh-oh. You want it? Yes, I am.  And guess what, Fletcher? He's hooked the same way. I don't think that guy could get it. Okay. These are the ones that I have learned that, listen, you don't want to mess with.


CHAPTER IX. CHURCH GOING. I shall have to go back a little and tell you about some of her church goings. When she was two years old she began to go to church regularly, and when she was a wee bit of a girl she would try to remember the texts for grandpa. Sometimes she made very queer work of it. If the minister had always preached from the text that she said he did, we should have had some funny sermons. Her papa and mama attended one church and grandpa and his family another, so she had a good chance to tell us what her minister said. It was a bright June Sunday that she came, in all the glory of bronze boots and blue silk parasol, to spend Sunday afternoon with grandpa. Of course she had on a dress and hat, but those were of small importance compared with the boots and parasol. Grandpa, said she, I have been to church today and I know the text every word in it. It hasn't got but three words to it anyhow. I wish verses never had but three words. I think they would be a great much more interesting, don't you, grandpa? Grandpa agreed that at least they would be easier to remember, then he said, now give us your three words. Oh, grandpa, she said, you must guess them, such little bits of words I'm sure you can. So grandpa tried, and having been told that they were cunning little words, he very soon thought of the precious little verse, feed my lambs, and was rather surprised to be told with a triumphant face that, that wasn't it at all. What in the world can it be? said puzzled grandpa, after he had repeated every verse and part of a verse with three words in it that he could think of. Minnie was radiant with delight. She had puzzled grandpa about a Bible verse too. That was splendid. Grandpa tried again, and broke verses into bits in a manner that would have horrified the minister in order to get three cunning little words out of them, but he had no success. This is a mystery, he said, in a perplexed tone that set Minnie into fits of laughter. At last he gave it up. I wish I could make a picture for you of the triumphant face she wore. Why, she said, drying in her breath, why isn't it splendid? I didn't ever expect to know more than grandpa. My, I'm so delighted. Shall I tell you, grandpa, what it is? Yes, said grandpa, right away, I'm all tired out trying to find out. Well, she said with a patronizing air, I'll tell you, it was, feed my kitties. How we shouted, Sunday though it was, I can seem to see grandpa get out his handkerchief and wipe his eyes after laughing until the tears came, and Minnie looked at us with wondering eyes. What makes you laugh? She said earnestly. Don't you think it was a nice text, grandpa? Very nice, he said, laughing again. The only trouble is, I'm afraid the minister made it up. Grandpa, she said eagerly, he read it out of the Bible, I saw him. There was no use in talking to her, she was a positive little thing, and what she thought was so was insisted upon. What in the world does the child mean? We said to her mother, who came after her in the evening. Why, she said, I think it must be this way, Mr. Priest preached to the children this morning, and Minnie was very much engaged, just at the moment when he announced his text, in fastening her fur collar around the church pillar, that you know is in our seat. So she missed the text, and one of his illustrations was about a little girl feeding her kitty. That is, he told a story about his little mod and her kitten. Minnie was very much interested in that, and some way she managed to connect that story with the text, and now she seems to feel entirely certain that the minister read just those words in the Bible. I tried hard to talk her out of it, but dear me, you can't talk her out of things, she has a mind of her own. We all tried very hard to talk her out of it, and at last I said half impatiently, why Minnie there isn't such a verse in the Bible, how could the minister preach on it?  Auntie Belle, she said, do you mean it doesn't say in the Bible that you must feed kitties? I shook my head. Not a single word, she said in great dismay, doesn't it say a single word about them? Not a single word, I said emphatically. She slipped down from Grandpa's knee where she had taken a seat and went over to her little stool beside Grandma's chair. Down she sat and buried her head in Grandma's lap. Then there came from her lips a long, low wail such as went to the heart of each one of us. Poor child, said Grandma, she isn't used to being laughed at, you have broken her heart. It can't be she is crying about that, said Grandpa with perplexed face, she is too much of a woman for that. It isn't that, she said, lifting a tear-stained face, it isn't that, but it makes me feel so awful bad to think that Jesus forgot all about kitties. I cannot describe to you the pitiful face she wore. There was no doubt about its being a real grief to her. Then we all set to work trying to comfort her. It wasn't an easy thing to do. Minnie's kitten lay very near her heart, and the thought that the Bible remembered the lambs and was entirely silent as to kittens hurt her very much. Grandma was very eloquent, and Auntie Dool and I did our best, but to very little purpose. She cried on, not loudly, but with softly little sobs that made me feel like crying too. Her Papa looked sober. She will have a hard life of it, I am afraid, he said, if she has so much trouble about a kitten. Oh, I don't know about that, Grandpa said. Her trials come to her in the shape of kittens just now.  By and by her trials will be about greater things. That is all the difference. Then he called the weeping maiden to him and took her on his lap. Tell me the whole story. He said in a sympathizing tone, and she poured out her grief. Auntie Bell said the Bible didn't say a word about her kitty, nor any kitty, not a single word, and of course Jesus didn't care anything about them, and it seemed too dreadful. Well now, said Grandpa, listen to me, Auntie Bell was mistaken. Now you may imagine that Auntie Bell, sitting over on the sofa, pricked up her ears at this and listened in great astonishment. Minnie immediately got out her speck of a handkerchief and dried her eyes and looked hopeful. Does your kitty eat? said Grandpa. Why, yes, Minnie answered, why, Grandpa, you know she does. I have to buy milk for her in my little tin pail every day, and I give her meat and ever so many things. And where do you get the milk that you feed her? Why, Papa buys it for me of Mr. Seymour, and I go after it every morning. But where does Mr. Seymour get it? Oh, he has a brown cow with white feet, and every night and morning she gives a great big pail of milk. Now I wonder where Mr. Seymour got his cow. Why, I don't know, Grandpa, but I suppose he bought her of a man just as Auntie Hosmer did hers. But where do you suppose the man got her? Light began to dawn on Minnie's mind. Oh, she said slowly and reverently, God made her in the first place. Indeed, said Grandpa, then it seems that God furnishes the milk for your kitty to drink. So he does, said Happy Minnie, and he makes the meat, too, that I feed her with and the cake that I give her once in a while. Of course he does, Grandpa, because he makes everything. He made kitty, too, said Grandpa, in gentle tone. Why, so he did, echoed Minnie. I wouldn't ever have had my kitty if God hadn't made her, would I? It doesn't make any matter, does it, whether he tells us in the Bible to feed them or not? He knows we will, don't he? And so he made the things for us to use. But Grandpa, wouldn't it have been nice if he had said just a little word about them, as he did about the lambs? He did, said Grandpa confidently, whereupon I looked astonished again. He doesn't put their name in, but he tells us that he made everything and takes care of everything, and that we must be kind to all the creatures that he has made, and, of course, he means kitties, too. Minnie thought a little. Grandpa, she said at last, if he makes the kitties and takes care of them, isn't it a sign that he loves them some? Perhaps it is, said unsuspecting Grandpa, walking into the net that was being spread for his feet as heedlessly as the fly walked into the spider's house. After a little silence, then Minnie spoke very slowly and with great earnestness. Well, Grandpa, if Jesus loves the kitties some and takes care of them all the time, don't you suppose that you ought to love them just a little speck? That's the application, said I from my sofa corner. Then we laughed again. It seemed so funny that poor Grandpa should have his little sermon that he was getting ready all finished up for him. During that next week we had a strawberry festival at our church, and among other side-entertainments was that of the old woman who lived in her shoe. You remember that she had so many children that she didn't know what to do.  Over this trim-looking old lady dolls of every size and description were tumbling. They were pinned to her shoulders, on her back, and some wee ones were fastened to her cap border, while her arms were running over with them. Whenever anyone stopped at the table, she said in a soft little voice, I have so many children, I don't know what to do. And as the price of each doll was sewed to its skirt, one after another was sold away from the troubled little old lady. I took Minnie with me to the festival, and Auntie Dool bought one of the old lady's dolls for her. She was perfectly delighted, and hovered around the great black shoe all the evening. The next Sabbath, as we were starting for church, inbounded Minnie arrayed in her whitest and prettiest, and announced that she was going to Grandpa's church. She was in a perfect bubble of delight, and could hardly keep her feet from dancing as she walked beside us. No sooner was she seated, however, in the great solemn church, with the sound of the organ peeling down its aisles, than her face gathered in a frown. She gave one or two eager, expectant looks up and down the aisles. Then she settled into a disgusted quiet, pouting little lips, and sad, almost tearful eyes. What could be the matter with Minnie? As soon as we were out on the steps again, her little tongue was busy. She would never go to Grandpa's church again. It was a still old church, and Grandpa's minister was a cross-looking man, not half so nice as Mr. Priest. She didn't love him a bit at all, so. And she would never, never go there again. And the old woman that lived in the shoe wasn't there at all. Aha! The secret was out. The silly baby had really supposed that the little old woman who lived in her shoe was to be a fixture in the church from that time forth, and she went to church to see her. I wonder how many were in the same state of mind, said Grandpa, when we told him about it. I don't know that anybody expected to see the old lady in her shoe, but I heard some of the young men talking about being disappointed in the singing. One of them said he came to church on purpose to hear the leading soprano, and he might just as well have stayed at home, for she was not there. And a certain young lady said, I would have gone to the Episcopal Church this morning, only I expected that Fanny Holmes would be out in her new Paris hat, and I'm just dying to see it. And there she wore her old spring one. I think it's real mean. So there seem to be several disappointed ones, said Grandpa with a sigh. And on the whole I don't see that their motives for coming to the house of God were much better than many's. CHAPTER X I was laying on the lounge, coaxing a sick headache, when the door opened softly, and many in pretty summer freshness entered. Why, I said, how the little woman is dressed up. What is that all about at this time of day? Oh, said she, I have been away. I have been taking a walk with Grandpa. There's a secret about it. I'm not going to tell anybody. Why, yes, I can tell Grandma and Auntie Julia and Grandpa, but I can't tell you, because it's something you mustn't know. Auntie Belle, don't feel bad, for you are to be told all about it. Only you mustn't know it yet. But where have you been? I asked. Can you tell me that, or is that a secret, too? No, she said slowly with a thoughtful air. I guess that isn't a secret. I don't think it is. Mama didn't say anything about it. I've been to Mr. Skidmore's. I had to stay a good while, but I got something real pretty.  I wouldn't for anything, because Papa trusts me, you know? I haven't told you, have I? Now when I explain to you that Mr. Skidmore's was the only photograph gallery in town, you will see how natural it was to suppose that when a person had been there for a good while, and had got something nice, which every one but myself was to know about, and especially on being told that pretty soon I was to know all about it, that that something nice was a picture of the little lady herself, which, when finished, was to be presented to me. Yet, after all, she hadn't told me. At least she thought she hadn't. How was I to answer her? Why, I said, I don't see how I'm supposed to know what you were about all the time you were gone. She laughed gleefully. Of course you don't, she said, and I don't mean to tell you, but it is something real nice. I didn't doubt it, but what an idea the child had about keeping a secret to be sure. After she was gone, I thought about it a good deal. I have thought about it more or less ever since. It surprises me very much to see how many people there are in the world who are telling secrets that they don't mean to tell. Not nice, pleasant little secrets like minis, but sour, snarly ones, or ill-natured ones of some sort or other. The other day Miss Jenny Swift came in to see me.  She flung herself down on my couch with a four-lauren sigh and turned the leaves of a book as if she had no sort of interest in that or anything else. Have you a headache? I asked her. No, ma'am, she said drearily. What have you been doing today? Not much of anything, ma'am. That is, we studied, of course, and did all those things just as usual. Did the lessons go right? Jenny's cheeks grew red. They didn't go as well as they do sometimes, she said, and she spoke a little more quickly. I seemed to be getting at it.  Well accidents of that kind will happen once in a while, I suppose. Jenny is a very truthful girl. They didn't all fail, she said, the blush growing deeper, that Lucy Jenkins always has her lessons. She would have them if she had to sit up all night and steal a book to learn them out of. She is the meanest girl in school. Nobody likes her. Aha! Miss Jenny had told me a secret that she meant to keep to herself. They didn't need a prophet to tell me that she was jealous of Lucy Jenkins. It was that very evening that Paul Wheeler came to bring a message from his father to the minister and hung around my chair while the answer was being written. Paul always had something to tell me. We chose seats today, he said, and his gleeful tone made me think there was something particularly nice about it all. What, for next year? I asked. Well, how did that go? It went real nice, he said, laughing over the recollection, anyhow it did for some of us. I guess some of the fellows didn't like it so well. Paul has just arrived at that age when he thinks it is more manly to say, fellows than boys. You know that seat by the window, Auntie? Well, all the fellows want that seat because you can see out of the window, and it's real fun to see what is going on outside. Mr. Wheatley said we might vote which of the fellows in the senior class should have the seat. I wanted it awfully, but I did not expect to get it because I had it last year. But I didn't mean to give it up without some work, so I went around among some of the boys, and I told them all about my sugar party that I was going to have. I painted it off in glowing colors, I tell you. Then I worked it so that one of them would ask me how large a party I was going to have. And I said, that would depend on how large a vote I got. That of course I would invite everybody who voted for me. They asked me how I could tell who voted for me, and I looked awful wise and said I had ways of telling. And Auntie, don't you think that more than two-thirds of them voted for me and I got the seat? Wasn't that rich? Think of that, and he didn't seem to have the least idea how many secrets he had told me. Just count them. First, he was selfish. That was as plain as day. Had the best seat in school for a year and wanted it again. So to bring about his selfish plans, he did one of the meanest things that a boy can do, went about buying votes. Just ask your father if there is a meaner thing in all politics than that. Next, he acted a lie to gain his point. The idea of pretending that he could tell how the boys voted. I felt ashamed of him. I wished that he had no right to call me Auntie. I have to be ashamed of a good many people in just that way. They tell me things without knowing it that they wouldn't have me know for anything if they only thought of it. But to go back to Minnie, I want to tell you about another secret of hers. There came a day which was rather important to me.  Some important words had to be said first. The day chosen for the saying of these words was the one on which Minnie would be four years old. You will have to arrange matters with Minnie, said her mother. Three months ago she was promised a party on her birthday. That was before I knew about your plans, and Minnie has a good memory, you know. So I engaged to make it right with the little lady. She came down to see me one morning, and I thought I would talk with her about it. Minnie, I said, when is your birthday? Next Wednesday afternoon at two o'clock, she said confidently, that you see was the time when the party was to begin, and she counted time by the important things that were to happen. I hear you are going to have a party, I said. Are you going to invite me? Of course, she said lovingly. I wouldn't have a party without my Auntie Belle, would I? Well now it so happens that I can't come, I said. She looked doleful. Why not, Auntie Belle? The trouble is I want to have a party myself, and I have chosen the very day that you did. Can't you poem yours? She said, looking gravely at me. Not very well, because some of my company are invited, and I can't send them word not to come. Is my mama invited? She asked gravely. Yes. And did she promise to come? Why no, she couldn't do that, because she said she had promised to give you a party, and of course she wouldn't break her word.  But it will be a great disappointment to me not to have your mama and you. Am I invited to yours? She asked, and the sober face brightened a little. I, of course, and I expected you to take a ride with me after the party. Are you going to take them all a ride, Auntie Belle? No only part of them, but I meant to take you. I was going to have you with me in the big barouche, and we were going down to see the cars come in. Her sad face had been gradually growing clearer during this story, and now she said in a satisfied voice, Auntie Belle, I'll poem mine. I don't know but yours is to be the nicest. Anyhow I want to come to it. So that question was settled to the satisfaction of us both. We went on talking about the details as to who were expected, and what I was going to have on the party table, and whether I was going to give each of the guests an orange to carry home in their pockets as she had planned to do. I was very much pleased with my unexpected success, for this party had lain very near Minnie's heart, and I hadn't expected it to be given up without some tears, and instead she was in a real flutter of satisfaction. Presently the doorbell rang, and Miss Susie Weeks came in to make a social call. She wasn't an intimate friend of mine, though I liked her well enough. The worst fault she had was a desire to know about everything that was going on. We had a very pleasant talk together. She was telling me something that I remember interested me very much, though I'm sure I don't know what it was. I had forgotten all about Minnie. She wasn't apt to let herself be forgotten, but she was unusually quiet, busy it seemed with her own thoughts. Suddenly she spoke in a clear, ringing voice. I'm going to my Auntie Bell's party next Wednesday afternoon, and she is going to have a good many peoples, and I'm going to a ride with her after the party in the big barouche, and we are going down to see the cars come in, and there's a gentleman coming to her party from away off. Just imagine if you can how much I felt like shaking the little sprite. What was I to say to Miss Susie, who by this time knew as well what was going to happen next Wednesday as I did? And she was just the last person I would have chosen to tell the story to. Didn't I know just how she would enjoy telling this whole affair over, just as often as she found a person to tell? It seemed to me I could hear her going over it and describing every little thing. I know it is true, she would say, for Bell blushed as red as a peony, and looked as though she didn't know which way to turn. The consciousness that there would be a great deal of truth in this story of hers made my face turned redder still, and I am sure I could have given the innocent little maiden by my side a hearty shaking just as well as not. Dear me, what foolish people we are! I don't know why I should have cared so much about this, seeing it was all true. I certainly wasn't ashamed about being married, but some way I wanted all the telling about it to be done by myself. I dare say you will feel very much the same when you come to that time. Many told Grandma the whole story about the big barouche and the ride to the cars, told it at the dinner table, eye-listening with very blushing face. I shouldn't have thought you would have told the child about it, since it disturbs you so much to have her tell it over. This Grandma said, and I hurried to explain. She never tells things if you tell her not to, but I forgot that part. I've known worse troubles than that to come, because people neglected a little sentence that ought to have come in at the end. Grandpa's face was grave as he said this, and we knew he was thinking of something that had happened. It reminds me of something, he said at last. I was talking with Mr. Smith last night about our neighbor, Mr. Stewart. I said I was always pleased with his remarks in prayer meeting. Yes, he said, he talks well. I was wondering the other night how many people remembered old times. He happened to be surrounded by several who have reason to remember him. In what way, I asked? Why, they lost by him very heavily. He failed, you know. I said I didn't know it. Oh, yes, he said, it was before you came here. It made great excitement. I guess some of them will never forget it. What made the matter worse was that so many who lost by him were poor people, and members of the same church with himself. This story made me feel badly. I had always thought so much of Mr. Stewart. I couldn't keep it out of my mind, and this morning I spoke of it to Deacon Holmes. I knew he could tell me something pleasant about it if there was anything to tell. Who told you about it, he asked me.  No, said I. Of course he didn't. Why, that makes a different story of it entirely. It can't be that Mr. Smith knows that part of it. He must know it, he said, for he was one of the creditors, and one of the first to be paid up. Then why in the name of wonder didn't he tell me, I asked? Oh, I suppose he forgot that part, he said. There is another reason why that story belongs in this chapter of secrets. I think Mr. Smith must have had a habit of speaking ill of his neighbor. I don't suppose he meant to tell Minnie's grandpa of it, but you see he did for all that. CHAPTER XI. The next day was Sunday. After church she sat in the back door looking up and down the quiet street, sat very quiet for her, for if there was anything that Minnie thought was wicked to do, it was to keep still. I'm sorry to say that she didn't like Sunday much, either. She thought it very hard that Dolly had to be laid in her cradle, and the cradle set away in the close press when Saturday night came. Sometimes she would talk to it in this way. You poor Dolly baby, Minnie sorry, so sorry, that you have to be shut up in the dark all day tomorrow. Auntie says it's Naughty to let you out. I think Auntie wouldn't want her little baby, Laughty, put up on that high shelf in the cold.   Someday when Minnie is a big woman as big as Auntie, bigger than Auntie, Minnie won't put you on the shelf any more. No indeed, not at all.  I won't play with you because that would be Naughty. I'll pat you and love you.  But about that Sunday in which she sat in the door. She had been rather a noisy girl for an hour or so. Every few minutes either Mama or Auntie or Uncle had to say, No, no, Minnie, or, Minnie mustn't do so today, this is Sunday. And at last she really began to feel that this was different from other days, or ought to be. So she sat down on the doorstep and was still as a mouse for as much as five minutes. Pretty soon the cows began to walk by, going home from their long, sunny day in the pasture, making a good deal of noise, as cows will, you know.  Cows, she said, You must not move on Sunday, it is very naughty. And at this we all had to laugh, she spoke in such a funny, wise way. But Uncle did more than laugh, he believes in helping little bits of girls, so he laid down his book and said, Minnie, come here, Uncle wants to talk with you. So Minnie went across the floor with a great many glad little hops, and perched herself upon his knee, this is what they said.  Why, yes, Uncle, they run and shake their bells and move just as they do every day. Well, does Mama ever take her little Bible and go out in the yard and read to them? And at this Minnie laughed even louder than usual and shook her head at great many times. One more question, Minnie, do you think that before cows go to sleep, they kneel down and ask God to take care of them? Minnie looked sober now. No, poor cows, they can't speak. Well now, what do you suppose makes them different from Minnie? They can see and hear, they can eat and drink and sleep and play. But they can't read, they can't pray, they don't know anything about Sabbath, they don't even know there is any God. I'll tell you what is the matter. They have not any little precious soul as Minnie has that is going to live forever up in heaven if she will let it. Now, there is a verse in the Bible that the cows never heard. Do you want to learn it? Minnie nodded and Uncle said very slowly, Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. Uncle, she asked after she had said over the verse a great many times, does holy mean keep still? No Minnie, it means don't do anything today that the little heart which goes pit a pat inside here tells you is wrong. If you listen you will hear it say, Mama told me it was wrong to do so on God's day. In the evening, before any lamps except those in heaven were lighted, she came and climbed into my lap as I sat by the window, and, wonderful to tell, sat quite still in silence for several minutes, her little brain full of busy thoughts. At last she said, Auntie what is up there? Up where, darling? Why up there in the blue? The stars, I said, don't you see them? Yes, but what more, does God live up there? Yes, I answered, and Jesus. And who more?  Is my little sister baby Belle there? Yes, darling.  By and by she said earnestly, Auntie will Minnie go there too some day? Yes, darling, if she is a good girl and one of Jesus's lambs. And will my mama and papa and you go? We hope so, dear. And my grandpa and grandma? Before I could answer, she heard Grandma's voice in the next room, and hopping down said as she ran away, I'll go and ask her. Pat her, pat her, went the little feet, and I heard her sweet voice say, Grandma will you go up in the blue with Minnie and live with Jesus some day? I hope so, Grandma answered in sober tone, for truly it was a solemn question, though coming from baby lips.  Auntie Dool, she said, pronouncing her name as well as she could, will you go too? Go where? said Auntie, speaking shortly, as people will who have the toothache. Why, up in the blue with Jesus, mama and papa and grandpa and grandma and all of us are going, will you? Oh, Auntie said, wearily, holding her cheek to still the pain, I'm sure I don't know. I shall never forget the trembling tone and the quivering of little Minnie's lip as she came quickly back to me, saying over and over again, Auntie Dool, don't know, Auntie Dool, don't know.   Jesus says he will gather the lambs in his arms and carry them in his bosom.  CHAPTER XII. These Christmas times and the giving and receiving of presents remind me of the troubles that Minnie used to have in that line. I must tell you about them. She always had a long list of things that she wanted to buy, and she was troubled in the same way that a good many people are nowadays. Her heart was larger than her purse. I was nearly always her confidant in all Christmas matters, and as she commenced her preparations two months at least before they were needed, it was no small matter to keep so many secrets. One afternoon we devoted to doll hunting.  Now when I tell you that, added to this, she wanted to buy a big organ for her anti-dual, a pair of fur gloves for Papa, a picture dictionary for Grandpa, a furnished workbox for Grandma, and a diamond necklace for Mama, and that to make all these fine presents she had seventy-seven cents, I hope you understand the embarrassment of my position. On the particular afternoon that we started in search of a doll, the sun was shining brightly on the snow, and the air was crisp and fresh with winter brightness. Minnie with her new white furs, cape and muff, cuffs reaching to her elbows, rubber boots reaching to her knees, fur hat tied over her ears, looked like a cunning little bit of a Santa Claus, and I am sure she felt quite as important as that person ever did. I've picked out my dolly, Auntie Belle, she said, as she trudged along by my side. I saw it the other day, when I went to the office with Papa. She is just lovely, she has a pink silk dress, and blue eyes, and her hair curls, and I should think maybe there was a trunk full of clothes for her in the store. Anyway, we could make some for her, couldn't we, and a nightgown, too? To all this I agreed, and then I bethought me to inquire the price. I found out, she said triumphantly, don't you remember, Auntie Belle, you told me I must always ask the price when I went to buy things, and I did. We didn't have to ask, though, Papa read it on a card that she had in her hand. I know just what it was, I remembered all the words. It was two dollars and a half. These words were pronounced very slowly and very gravely, as if the small lady had a realising sense of their importance. Two dollars and a half, I said in dismay. Dear me, isn't that more money than you have to spare? She knew as much about the value of money as a mousey does, and no more, but I wanted to see what she would say. Yes, she said with a little sigh. Papa said it was a good deal more than I had for all my presents. But, Auntie Belle, I mean to try to strike her down to a shilling. Don't you think I can? There was no use in trying to keep from laughing then, though there was a sober little face looking at me very earnestly.  I said. Where did you get that idea? Why, that is the way, don't you know? Papa said a man tried to strike him down to two dollars on his paper yesterday.  Auntie wants to tell you something that you must try to remember all your life. It isn't polite to try to strike people down, and real ladies and gentlemen never do it. People are supposed not to charge more for things than they are worth, and if you try to get them for less than they are worth, you are not being honest, don't you see? Yes, ma'am, the little woman said with a troubled face. But, Auntie Belle, how can I get the dolly if I can't strike her down? You can't, as I see, I said. You will have to find a cheaper one. There is no reason why you should try to get a thing for less than it is worth. Her first lesson in economy and in shopping. She looked rather sober over it, but I hope mini will be kept from joining that large class of coarse women who go around the world in search of bargains.  But we paid the fair market price for her, with no striking down about it. The organ also had to be given up and the diamond necklace. We made a fat pincushion instead, in the place of the necklace, and a mouse-pen wiper instead of the organ. The workbox we made in Grandpa's shop. It was a beauty, a little white house, with two stories and an attic. It had chimneys and windows and doors, everything complete. It was made of pasteboard. We covered it with white satin paper and lined it with green satin. The windows had lace curtains, the doors were covered with bronze paper, to look as much like mahogany as possible. Then we made little chairs and sofas and tables, all out of pasteboard. The sofas and chairs we covered with green velvet for pincushions. The arms of the sofas had little flannel tidies on them, on purpose to stick needles into. And the table had a little velvet-lined hole in the middle, just large enough to drop a thimble in. Then in the corner we set a lovely doll cushion. It was made by taking a little china doll about three inches long, and standing it in a little round box. Then we filled the box with cotton and covered the hole with pink silk, gathering it at the waist around Miss Dolly, and adding a waist and sleeves of white lace. Then we put on a bridal veil of white lace, and our young lady was complete. How we did enjoy making that house and the furniture! I think I was as wild over it as Minnie was. Only while I am on that subject I may as well advise you, if you ever make such a box, not to stuff the cushions with cotton. I shall have to confess that I have heard my mother say. As for sticking a pin in that thing, I would rather stick them into the pasteboard itself and be done with it. The picture dictionary we took up a subscription for, and every one of the sons and daughters contributed. We got a beauty. Minnie was to make a little speech when she presented it, so we had a great time getting that speech written and learned. I was to write it. It had to do with Grandpa's birthday as well as Christmas, and it must be something not too long for Minnie to learn. Only it was done, and the great day came, and Minnie, in a blue dress and white frilled apron, stood up by Grandpa's chair and said it very nicely. I will copy it for you. Dear Grandpa, we feel very happy today to come here and visit you on your birthday, and your big sons and daughters, at home and away, are all in the secret. They want me to say that this big book beside me they ask you to take, and keep it and love it, and all for the sake of the children who love you so much and who pray that the dear Lord will give you a happy birthday. You can see for yourselves that this wasn't remarkable poetry by any means, but by the smile on Grandpa's face and the tears in his dear blue eyes, we knew that he was just as pleased with it as though some real poet had written it. After the thanks and the talking and laughing were over, he took out his pencil and a bit of paper, and in a few minutes he gave us this nice little note of thanks. I thank the dear children at home and away who kindly remembered me on my birthday, and I thank the dear grandchild who gladly consented to make a nice speech when the book she presented. There are reasons why there will never be a dearer piece of poetry than this. The most troublesome things were the fur gloves, Minnie's heart was set on them. In vain I explained to her that fur glove would cost almost, if not quite, ten times the money that she had to spend. She shook her wise little head and wanted to go and see just how much they cost. That's Auntie Bell, she said, you don't know how much I've got, it don't belong to my seventy-seven cent money, I've been saving up for it almost a hundred years I guess, it's ever since I can remember anyway. We finally decided to ask Grandpa's advice, so we went to him, bank in hand, and he counted the money. There were ever and ever so many pennies and some three cent pieces that kept slipping out of sight under the pennies so as not to be counted. The counting took a long time. At its close he said, well I think we shall have to see about this right away, get the furs and boots all on, and we'll call on Mr. Judson and see what he has to say to us. Grandpa told us afterward all about it. They went to the great room where many men and women were at work and where everybody was just as busy as could be. The owner of all the busy machines was there, and as he knew Grandpa he waited on them himself. Minnie was a long time trying to decide what she wanted, but at last she found just the pair. The price was quite a good deal more than she had in her bank, but Grandpa poured it out on the desk and said, there is your money, count it. So the gentleman went to work and the three cent pieces hid just as they had before. And first one man, then another came to ask him questions, and he lost his place and had to begin over again, until finally, having succeeded in counting out two dollars just as one of the workmen came for orders, he swept the little heap of pennies and wicked three cent pieces that were left into the little bank. There that will do. He said, I haven't time to count any more, and I'm not sure that I should promise to do it if I should lose twenty dollars by declining. The gloves are paid for, my little woman. Keep the rest of the money as a start on next year. What a delighted little mousy she was to find that the gloves were paid for, and she had a whole heap of pennies left. She came privately to me to know if I didn't think that she could almost get the organ for anti-dual now that she had so much money. We counted it, and there were just sixty-three cents. End of Chapter 12 CHAPTER XIII. Gracie's Letter Dear cousin Minnie, I guess you didn't ever know me because I didn't ever get any letter from you. I'm Gracie. That's one of my names. That is the way it looks on paper, but I pronounce it Dacey. I'm a big, tall girl. I can stand up all alone. Can you? And I can hold the fork myself. Only sometimes it tips and lets the Tato all down in my neck. But that is the fault of the fork. It isn't my fault. Oh, no, not at all. Once my mama had society. Did you ever go to society? Some of it is fun, and some of it is a great deal of trouble. For one thing you have to be dressed up. I do think that such a bother. The worst is having your hair combed. Do the mouses get in your hair and make little knots all through it?  But your mama says you must because it isn't pretty not to go when you are called. Perhaps they don't do so to you because you are not a minister's daughter. I think it is a great deal of trouble to be a minister's daughter. And so mama had society. The getting ready was real fun. I helped. I tipped over the pitcher full of water on the chamber carpet. I didn't mean to do that. I was going to lift it up to help mama, and it slipped. But I took a tidy right off the big chair and wiped it all up nice, so that it didn't do a bit of harm. Then I took the towels all off the rack and put them in the bathtub and set the water running so they would be nice and clean. After that mama sent me downstairs to help Anna. After dinner mama wanted me to go to sleep, but I didn't want to, and I made up my mind I wouldn't. Mama rocked and sang and rocked and sang, and I put my thumb in my mouth and my head over her shoulder just as if I was going to sleep. But the more she sang, the wider awake I got. When papa came in mama said, I'm sure I don't know what is the matter with this baby. She will not go to sleep, and it has long passed her sleepy time. Then I said, ah, gah, gah, ah. They didn't know what that meant, but it meant I was so tickled because they thought I was going to sleep. Then papa said, let me try her. So I was dumped over his shoulder, and he sang, peep, peep, go to sleep, and twinkle, twinkle, and everything else that he could think of. And every once in a while he would move me softly around to see if I was asleep and then I would laugh. At last they gave it up, and I was almost sorry that I hadn't gone to sleep after all, because I had to be dressed. Then the ladies began to come. They all kissed me, and were so glad that I was awake, and so was I. Mama told them how hard she had tried to get me to sleep. She said she didn't know what was the matter with me, that I had never acted so before. She said she believed that I knew they were going to have company, a little bird must have told me. Just then I was drinking a glass of milk, and this tickled me so that I began to laugh, and then began to choke, and we had a great time, and the milk got spilled right in Mrs. Snow's lap. The reason why I was so tickled was because it seemed so funny to hear Mama say that a little bird must have told me about the company, when she told me herself. Didn't they know I had ears? And didn't I hear the talking and planning about it all the week? It is so funny that folks should think that we don't hear because we don't talk all the time. At tea time I had a great deal of fun. I sat up in my high chair beside Papa, and he told Mama that he would take care of me, but Papa always talks and forgets all about me. So I took the spoon out of his tea, and put it in his sauce, and put some of the sauce in my mouth. But it was dreadful sour, not half so good as milk, so I didn't take any more. But I spread some of it on my dress, and it made a lovely color. Pretty soon Papa found it out, and he looked so sober that I was sorry I did it. And Anna came and took me away. I cried some, and wanted to go back, but she wouldn't let me. And she took off my pretty dress, and said I had spoiled it. But I don't know what she meant by that, because it was a great deal prettier since I had painted it. While I was thinking about it, I went to sleep. And when I woke up, don't you think the people had all gone home, and it was morning? I am coming to see you. Mama and Mama and I are going to get in the cars and come. The cars go choo-choo. Did you ever hear them? That is every word they can say. In the night they talk too, and won't go to sleep. We are going to have a nice time. Are you so glad that we are coming? I am glad. I can't write any more, because I must help Mama get all ready. There is a great heap of clothes on the table. I am going right over there to pull them on to the floor. Goodbye, Cousin Gracie. This was the letter that threw Minnie into a perfect flutter of glee. She had each one in the house read it to her, until very soon it appeared she could read it herself without missing a word. The best of it was true. Cousin Gracie was coming to see us, and Cousin Gracie's Mama and Papa were coming with her. Or she with them I don't quite know which it was. I was the only one of the family who had ever seen Gracie, and the last time I had the honour she was a wee mousey only three weeks old. So we all shared Minnie's curiosity to know just how she looked. There came a day when we were all very busy, doing those last things that always leave themselves to be done at the last minute before company comes. Despite the busiest one in the house, to judge by her hurried and important air, was Minnie. All day long she trotted up and down the hill leading from her father's house to grandpa's, bringing her treasures with which to adorn the little comer's room. Her best dolly, the one with real eyes and a blue muslin dress, was laid on the small white bed that was to be Miss Gracie's resting place. Why, Minnie, we said, knowing how dear that dolly was to her heart, Gracie is only a baby, you know. I'm afraid she will break this doll. Why don't you bring one of the others for her? Why, said Minnie, with grave and earnest face, Amaline Sarah has but one arm, and Susan Amelia's eyes have both come out. You know they were made of beads, and one day they lost out. So I guess I will have to leave this and run the risk of her breaking it. I guess maybe she won't hurt it at all, because I asked Jesus to take care of it and watch her all the time she had hold of it. Wondering much just what the little girl's idea of prayer was, I said, but darling, what if, after all, Gracie should throw dolly on the floor and break her? You know she is only a little baby, and would not know any better. Will my faithless heart ever forget the look of the sweet, earnest eyes that were raised to mine, as she said gravely, not without the least bit of a sigh? Well then, you know, Auntie Bell, it will have to be just right the best way, because Jesus wouldn't let it happen unless it was, because I asked him to take care of her, you know. And anyhow we must give the best things to people, mustn't we? Or else we wouldn't love them so much as we do ourselves. I am so glad to tell you that Gracie handled the sweet blue-eyed dolly with as much tenderness as though it had been a real true baby, and she had been its mother. There is another thing I ought to tell you, and that is, that Minnie was by no means in this angelic mood all the time. She could cry with all her might, and make herself and all the rest of us miserable over a broken-nosed darling, sometimes without regard to the fact that, of course, it was the best thing, or it would not have happened. In fact, the little woman was very much like the rest of us. She knew all about how she ought to feel about her little troubles, but she could feel right about them before they happened a great deal better than she could afterward. I wish you could see the little white bed that Grandma made ready for my Lady Gracie, so soft and white and puffy, with a white spread quilted by her own hands in wreaths and shells and all manner of pretty things. It wasn't a cradle for Gracie had never been rocked to sleep in her life, nor yet was it a crib, being not the right shape to be called by that name. It just answered to the name that Minnie gave it and no other, and that a dear little baby bed. After all I was not at home when the much-watched four people arrived, or rather I was not within hearing if the truth must be told. The very day before this, Minnie's uncle, who was not yet her uncle at all, had come, and was claiming a good share of my attention.  When I attempted to kiss her, and that was my niece Gracie, grandpa's other darling. You are to hear a good deal about her after this, for though I did not have her near me so often, nor so long as I had Minnie, yet she was a lady about whom one could learn a great deal in a short time, as you will see when I tell you some of her sayings and doings. I may as well say just here that we had that party very soon after Gracie arrived. Indeed we had been waiting for her, as they had been somewhat delayed. Minnie carried out her program exactly, even to the ride in the big Berouche, and cried with all her might when she found that I was not going to ride back with her, but was going off with the new uncle gentlemen. I think I should have cried a little too if I had known that it would be a whole year or more before I should see my little darling again. In fact, if you will never tell the new uncle nor anybody else, I will just whisper to you that when it grew dark in the cars I hid my eyes in the corner of the seat, and put a few tears in my handkerchief just to remember the day by. As for Gracie, she did some very loud screaming that afternoon. Not on my account. Bless you, she didn't care then whether she ever saw me again or not. On the whole, I think she would a little rather not have seen me any more. But it was such a thing as never happened to her in all her life before to be left in the house with a strange cousin while her mama went off to church. What did she care if her Auntie Belle was going to be married? One day last winter I told her just how she acted, and she said Auntie Belle, did I really? Then after a little, Auntie Belle, I don't see how babies can bear it to stay babies so long. They know so little, and they are so silly. End of Chapter 13 Chapter 14 of Grandpa's Darlings by Pansy. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 14 The Party Such a bustle of preparation as we were in at our house. Our house means the new uncles and mine. We had been keeping it for nearly a year when Minnie came to see us. Mama and she came together, and Papa was coming after them. Well on this particular day we were getting ready for a party. On one unlucky day I had said in Minnie's presence that I had half a mind to invite my Sunday school class to spend the afternoon and take tea with us while Minnie was there. After that she gave me no peace until I promised, and Mama and Nora and I had been for two days getting ready. You see, it was no small matter to invite my class to tea. It was not made up of half a dozen or so nice little girls, or mainly boys. I had the infant class—forty infants—some of them just old enough to cry and want to go home to Mama right in the midst of the lesson. The very little ones will not come, I suppose. I said, when we talked the plans over. They will be afraid, too. When you grow up and have an infant class and are going to invite them to tea, you need not plan in any such way. Every single one of them came. We called it coming to tea, but coming to milk would have been the truer name. They didn't drink tea, and they did drink milk. The long table looked very pretty when we had it all arranged. There was a large bouquet of beautiful, bright flowers in the center, and at each end a smaller one. There was a cup at each plate filled with rich milk. Some of our guests we knew were too small to be trusted with goblets, and of course we had to treat them all alike, so we used cups. There were nice light biscuits, all spread, and with a slice of tender chicken tucked away between each one. There were little puffy patty cakes, brimful of raisins, and frosted so thick that they looked like snowballs. This last piece of folly Mini is responsible for. She begged for it. Such nonsense, said Mini's mama. But she beat the eggs with all her might and looked on well pleased. We hadn't a great deal of cake. We had just sense enough left to remember that the mothers would thank us to be very sparing of that. But we had great pound sweetings baked to just the right shade of brown, and the crowning beauty, at least in Mini's eyes, was a glass dish full of bright yellow oranges, one for each. At precisely three o'clock they came, not one at a time ringing the doorbell and walking in properly as their elders do, they didn't even come by twos and threes. Somewhere on the road they had gathered and had been waiting the exact moment that they had been invited, for as the clock struck the gate clicked and in they rushed the whole forty. You needn't expect me to give you any idea of the din there was. I couldn't do it. They all wanted their hats and sacks taken off at once, and then they wanted them on again to go outdoors, and we managers almost lost our senses trying to keep them straight. Such an afternoon as that was. We couldn't leave the little mortals alone for two minutes without having an accident or a quarrel. They were every one of them trying to be perfect, too. The only trouble was that, like the most of us, they didn't succeed. Mini had brought out her treasures with which to entertain them. Among other things was Albertina Seraphina, a new doll with real hair and a silk dress with lace puffings. It was before the days of overskirts, or she certainly would have had one. That doll, which we had meant to be such a joy to them, was a source of trouble all the time. Before the afternoon was over I heartily wished that the pink checked darling was three hundred miles away, safely shut up in her grandmother's bureau drawer.  Finally the trouble reached its height. Susie Phelps and Carrie Stone, two of the more quiet children, had been allowed to take Miss Abby, which was the short for Albertina, over into a corner to look at her, while I showed the great album full of pictures to the smaller ones. But Susie and Carrie quarreled, and this was the way of it. She is bigger than any doll you ever had," said Susie in a superior tone, and with a disagreeable emphasis on the you. I guess I've had as big dolls as you have any day," Carrie said quickly. Then Susie, oh Carrie Stone, what a story! I've had the biggest doll ever was in this town. You haven't, either. I have, too. I say you haven't.  I'll tell my mother and she won't let me play with you any more. I don't care, I don't want to play with you, and I shan't ask you to my party, either. You needn't. I wouldn't come if you do. But my doll is bigger than yours for all that. She isn't, either. Mine is bigger than this. Oh, that is a story. She isn't near as big. She is. She isn't. She is. And then they talked so loud and so fast that we couldn't tell what either of them said, and they were too angry to even attend to me when I put down the album and came over to talk to them. And finally Susie Phelps burst into a perfect storm of tears and ran screaming down the yard out at the gate and so home without hat or cloak or sack. After that we locked Miss Albertina Seraphina into my clothes-press and wouldn't let her come out again while the party lasted, though she was much the best-behaved person there. And Minnie's mama said if we should send some of the guests into the other clothes-press and lock them in, we should have a much better time. Very soon we all went to tea, all but Susie Phelps. I am glad to say that her mother wouldn't let her come back, so she ate her supper at home if she had any. We had great trouble in getting our company seated. At least a dozen of them wanted to sit at the head of the table.  I think it was that cake that made the mischief, and very troublesome mischief there was. I didn't know how naughty a party of little people could act when they tried.  No, you ain't," said a pet little mousy of about five, I'm sure I'm the oldest. I had a birthday last week. I hadn't the least idea what to do with any of them. It was new business to me. I had never had any but grown-up company before, who sat where I told them to, and waited until they got home before they made any remarks. Minnie, I said, suppose you take this seat, and we will let Trudy sit there as she is older than the rest. And you can imagine the wicked state of mind into which we had all got when I tell you that our little Minnie, who had had the most careful teaching not only as to what was polite but what was right, actually puckered her lips and said she wanted to sit there where Auntie Bell had said she could, and she wasn't going to sit anywhere else. Then indeed I was at my wit's end. I thought if the minister were only here. Did I tell you that the new uncle was a minister? He would be sure to do something, but he had been sent for just a little while before. It began to look to me very much as though we should none of us get any supper. But suddenly Minnie's mama, who had managed young parties before, came to the rescue. Now, she said briskly, I'll tell you what we are all going to do. You are each of you going to take a seat, just exactly where I put you, and we are not going to say another word about it. Only if there is anyone who would rather not have any supper than to sit where I put her, she needn't eat a single bit. We will excuse her and let her go and sit on that lounge until the rest of us are through. Now, Minnie, I'll seat you first. You are to sit here, pointing to a seat half way down the table.  Wise mama, the little girl in the pink dress was the smallest and quietest and poorest of all the company, and was perfectly astonished at the notice taken of her. What a queer way to treat company, I couldn't help thinking. But it had the effect that we wanted. Each one slipped quietly into her seat. There was that in the lady's face that said, I mean what I say, and no one it seemed had the least idea of going without her supper. After that we had a peaceful time. To be sure there were rivers of milk spilled, and some of the very little ones would take more cake than we dared let them eat, but those things we expected. The minister came home before we were through supper, and after it was over he carried them all off to the parlor, and they had a happy time. If you had kept him at home to play with the children this afternoon, I don't believe we should have had a bit of trouble. This was what Minnie's mama said as she heard the gleeful laughs that came to us from the parlor. The next thing that happened was a hard shower. It came up so suddenly that we all started in amazement as the rain rushed in at us from the open doors and windows. Then what a hurrying to and fro we had closing windows all over the house. As we met each other on the stairs we would say, I hope it is only a shower, or how will those children ever get home? But if it was a shower it meant to last until we would call it by a more dignified name. It rained and rained, and the more we tried to comfort the children with the thought that it would soon be over, the harder the rain seemed to come. Some of the younger ones added to the shower with many tears, lest they should never get home again.  But they didn't. They evidently thought that people who had gotten themselves into such a scrape as that might get out the best way they could. It grew to be a serious question how the little mortals were to be God-home. We held many councils over the kitchen table. We talked by twos, the third one going in to keep guard over the little prisoners, while the others discussed ways and means. It ended in the minister getting out rubbers and umbrella, and going across lots to a great-hearted neighbors. Some once he presently came in a long hay wagon with big brown horses harnessed before it. Into this wagon, after much struggling with hats, shawls, and gloves, we rolled and tumbled the little sprites, and it was with a sigh of great relief and satisfaction that we saw the brown horses move slowly away. What an afternoon we had had! We told each other with much laughing that we should never forget it, never! And I don't believe we ever will. The minister did his sighing somewhat later in the evening, and I don't think there is any danger of his forgetting the first party that we ever gave. The next day we lived the funny part of it over again in a letter to Grandpa and Grandma, and after a few days there came back this answer. Grandpa says, tell Mini I am very glad that she shut Albertina Seraphina into the close press. I should hardly have liked her to be influenced by all the little people who were around her. And tell Auntie Bell that I recommend her, before she gives another party, to read the story in the Bible of the man who, before he built his house, sat down and counted the cost. Perhaps she did, though, and if she had interest on her money, all right. I studied a little over this message before I decided just what it meant. I wonder if you can all tell. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of Grandpa's Darlings by Pansy. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 15. Prayers. The next time I saw the two little girls they were at Grandma's house. We were all there spending a vacation, and having such a good time as was to be had nowhere else in the world.  Oh, the mischief that that morsel could get through in a day! It seemed to me that the little feet and hands and tongue must ache at night, but they were never quite ready to have night come. In fact, as it drew toward bedtime, she seemed to have more to do than before, and many a nice plan was spoiled right in the best of it by the call to bed. I don't suppose there ever was a child who had queerer ideas about things than our Gracie had. The most unlucky thing that could happen was to have her waken in the morning with the announcement, Gracie is a naughty baby this day! She seemed to think that this made everything straight, and nobody had a right to complain as long as she took the pains to explain to them what she meant to do. Sure enough, from morning until night everything went wrong. If she had planned everything that was to happen with the direct aim of helping her to be a naughty girl, she could not have done it better, so that we grew to dread the days that were begun with that sentence. Gracie is a naughty baby. The worst thing about it was her serene unconsciousness of having done anything wrong. Hadn't she told us that she meant to be naughty? Very pleasant days those were, in which she announced with bright eyes and smiling face, Gracie is a good girl today, and a good girl she would be.   I would ask her after one of those sun-shiny days. I can see now the astonished look in her great gray eyes, as she said. Why, Auntie Belle, this is my good day! I'm not a naughty baby today at all! But I can't always be good, you know. It is about the clothes of one of the naughty days that I want to tell you.  The finger was done up in cotton after a vain attempt on Grandma's part to put a claster on it. She seemed to think that a claster was something a great deal harder to endure than a burn, and screamed as hard again over the prospect of having one on as she did at the accident. At last she settled down, and we said good-bye to the people downstairs, and Mama and she and I went up to get ready for sleepy time. Sober talk was going on all the time the chubby cheeks and hands were being washed. And when at last the white nightgown was on, and buttoned from throat to toes, her face was grave and thoughtful. Well, she said looking into her mother's face, and speaking slowly and solemnly, I've got a good deal to say tonight, haven't I? I wish I had come that last time when you called me. I shouldn't have felt quite so bad then. It was so near night I should have thought I could have remembered. Mama, which do you think is the baddest thing that I did today? I don't think I can tell. Mama said, with a sober, troubled face. And that isn't the thing that you are to think about anyway. It makes no difference which is the worst thing. Everything that you knew was wrong to do has made Jesus feel badly, and you want to ask him to forgive you for them all. Besides, you want to ask for a new heart so that you will be willing to try not to be so naughty.  She tried to get one up now. But, Mama, if I could find out which was the very baddest thing that I did, I could make up my mind that I certainly true would never do that again. And then I would be sure not to be so bad next time, don't you see? I shall have to confess that I felt very much like laughing. She was such a little bit of a mouse, and she was trying so hard to be wise. But her poor, troubled Mama did not smile. I see that you don't know what you are talking about, she said. I can only hope that when you are older you will be a great deal wiser. This was certainly hard for a little girl who thought she made a very sensible remark. She gave a little bit of a sigh, and then knelt down beside her Mama. Very slowly and reverently she went through the prayer that I think every little girl in the world must know. Now I lay me down to sleep. After the Amen, she always added a little prayer that she said came right out of her own heart. And tonight it was, Dear Jesus, please bless Gracie, make my heart not feel so bad.  That was really the most that Gracie knew about it. There seemed to be no use in trying to make her understand that everything that wasn't right was wrong, and that God thought so. It troubled the Mama a great deal to see that her little girl was getting the idea that because there were some things that she didn't do, and that other little girls did do, therefore she was a much better girl than they after all. Do you think that is so very strange? Grandpa said, as she talked it over with him after we went downstairs. Why, there are older people than she who reason in just that way. It isn't an hour ago that I was talking with John about not speaking in a very respectful manner. And he said, I never swear anyway. Jim White used to swear every time you told him anything that he didn't want to do. I knew you didn't hear him very often, but that was the way he used to do. I never swore in my life. And the poor fellow looked as though he thought I ought to call him a remarkably good boy, because he had reminded me of a sin that he never was guilty of. That is the very feeling that Gracie seems often to have, Mama said. Don't you think it's strange? I don't know how to deal with it. I don't think it is an unusual feeling by any means, said Grandpa. In fact I don't know but everyone has more or less of it. Don't you remember how the men in the Bible prayed, Lord I thank thee that I am not as other men? Now I wonder if you can think why I am telling you this talk, which sounds very sober to you perhaps. The reason is that these words of my dear father set me to thinking. I have thought of them a great many times since, and I have been very much surprised to see how many times I have had just the same thought. How many times I have found pleasure in thinking. Well I wouldn't do as that girl did for anything, as if God cared anything about that. I wonder if you ever have any such thoughts. I must tell you about another of Gracie's prayers. It was at the close of a long summer day. She and Minnie had been playing from early morning away into the evening, and a more weary little being than the one who slowly clambered up the long stairs yawning at every step could hardly be imagined. She was very independent, though, as usual. She wouldn't be helped.  She would unbutton the brown boots, and unfasten the blue sash, and unstrap the white stockings just as usual. At last every pretty little garment was laid carefully away, and Mama said, Now my little girl is all ready for her evening prayer. No! Gracie said, and I can seem to see the little determined face that she gravely turned toward her mother, and hear the decided ring to her voice as she said it. No, Mama! No prayers to-night! Oh, yes, said Mama, gently and coaxingly. My little girl don't want to go to bed without asking Jesus to take care of her tonight, and thanking him for giving her such a happy day. Yes, she did, she said, want just that. She was tired of saying a prayer every single night of her life. She had done it for ever and ever so many years, ever since she was born, and there was no use of always doing it. She couldn't say a single prayer to-night. And she laid herself down in her little white bed as though the matter was settled, and to all Mama's coaxings she answered just that one sentence, No prayers to-night! Mama looked very much puzzled. She wasn't in the habit of allowing her little girl to do just as she liked. In fact, Miss Gracie had been very carefully taught to do just as Mama said, which made it seem all the more strange that she should suddenly take the control of herself in this way. I felt very badly. I was sure that Mama would think that she must make her little girl do just as she told her, and the poor little thing was so tired and so determined to have her own way that I felt sure there would be trouble. There we stood, Mama with the little boots in her hand, I with the lamp in my hand on the way to the hall, and Gracie in her crib looking solemnly up at us. In a few minutes the trouble looked cleared from Mama's face, and she said in a quiet grave voice, Very well, if my little girl wants to go to sleep and lie through the long dark night without asking Jesus to keep her, why she will have to do it. If it were something that you were to do for me, I should have to make you do it. But Jesus doesn't care anything about prayers that people say because they are obliged to. He will not make you pray. He does not care for your prayer if you don't want to say it. Come, Auntie Bell, you and I must go downstairs. Little Gracie was astonished. She had never been deserted in that way before.  But she hadn't the least idea of giving up her own way for all that. Don't you mean to kiss me? She asked in a very sober tone. No, I think not, said Mama, in an equally sober way.  Besides, if you don't care for Jesus' love, I am sure you can't want mine. And still Gracie kept her grave face. Downstairs we went, although it almost broke Mama's heart to go away without a good night kiss from her darling. For about ten minutes she fidgeted around downstairs, near enough to the door to hear any sound that might be made in the room above.  It took only about a second for Mama to answer that call, and by the time she reached the room above Gracie was ready to rush into her arms, and with a burst of tears she said, Gracie wants to say her prayers. She does want Jesus to take care of her. She does want your kisses. And a perfect shower of them she got. Through a great many tears the evening prayer was said, and in five minutes more the little girl was in a happy sleep. How much better it was to manage her that way than it would have been to whip her into saying her prayer, Auntie Julia said, in a burst of admiration over the Mama's management. Grandpa had been walking the floor, wearing a sober face during this time. When either of his darlings were in trouble it always sobered Grandpa's face. I wondered just what he was thinking, and pretty soon he told us. I can't help wishing, he said, that everyone's heart was so tender, so willing to melt when Jesus has been grieved. I wonder how long it is before we call to him after we have heard his feelings by having our own way. Grandpa had such a strange way of talking about these things just as if Jesus were right here with us. CHAPTER XVI. Queer Ideas. My Ray said something this morning that made me think of some of many sayings of which I had forgotten to tell you. We had company. Ray was in his high-chair, sat looking steadily at the stranger's face, his mind busy with wondering thoughts. I think I can guess what some of them were. Only a few days ago he discovered that each person in the world had a name that was his or her own property. Up to that time he had imagined that the general name Lady or Gentleman was all that anybody owned. This new thought was evidently troubling him. He only waited until I had taken my seat beside him to say with earnest face and a ringing voice, Mama, what is that man's name? The question took me back ten years and more to the time when Minnie was bent on asking questions, and I mean to go back and tell you about it. She was very much given to asking just that question that my Ray did, and she always pointed her wee finger right at the person about whom she was talking. Now if you have never tried it, you haven't the least idea how awkward it is to be sitting among a room full of people, some of them strangers, and have a shrill little voice shout out just in a pause in the conversation so that everybody is attending. Auntie Bell, who is that man? This was the uncomfortable thing that Minnie of three years was very apt to do. We tried very hard to break her of it, but she was always in such solemn earnest and was so sure that she was asking in just the right time that it was hard to scold her. One day there was a great meeting in our church, and the town was full of strangers, ministers and teachers, and all those good people who are apt to go to great meetings. Almost every house in town was turned into a willing hotel to entertain the guests. You may be sure that Minnie's grandpa was not behind in this pleasant duty, and our house was full. Minnie had been very much interested in the strangers, and had asked the usual number of questions. So I thought I would be wiser than she for once and get rid of some of them. It chanced that on the second day of the meeting we were to have two more guests at dinner. I was combing Minnie's hair and putting on her third clean apron to get her ready for dinner, when it occurred to me to give her a lesson at the same time. Minnie, I said, there are to be two gentlemen to dinner today whom you have not seen before. They are to sit right opposite you at Grandpa's right, and Auntie wants to tell you about them. They are ministers. One is an old gentleman, and one is young. Their names are Mr. Eastman and Mr. Briggs. They live a great way off. I have forgotten the name of the place. Now you must say those names over a good many times, so you will remember, and you won't ask me at the table what they are, will you, because it isn't polite, you know. If you forget, you will wait until after dinner to ask, won't you? I won't forget, said Minnie very gravely. I don't ever forget, Auntie Bell. I shall know their names always. This was true. She had a wonderful little memory, especially about things that were not worth remembering. Very well, I said, quite satisfied with my teaching, and feeling glad that I should be able to eat my dinner without the fear of being asked that embarrassing question. Half an hour afterward, Minnie, in ruffle apron, hair combed smoothly and tied back by the pinkest of ribbons, sat in her high chair and with grave face and folded hands waited while the white-haired minister asked a blessing. She was very busy studying the faces of the two strangers, so busy that her little tongue was very quiet. So perfect was she in her behavior that the younger of the two gentlemen finally said, Your little one is remarkably well behaved for one so young. It was just at that important moment, when the attention of everyone was called to her, that she suddenly spoke in the clearest, most ringing voice imaginable, Auntie Bell, which is Mr. Briggs and which is Mr. Eastman? Then she pointed her two little forefingers, one at each, as if she meant to shoot them. Of course they were a good deal astonished, and of course a long explanation had to be made as to her way of getting acquainted with people. And then I had to tell about my attempt to teach her beforehand. The way I had succeeded they could see for themselves. They seemed wonderfully amused and laughed until they brought a red glow all over Minnie's cheeks, and she hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. It was all right, Grandpa said, as later in the day he held the little girl in his arms and padded the brown head and kissed the quivering lips and flushing cheeks, for by this time Minnie had thought we had laughed enough, and had almost made up her mind to cry. Tell Auntie Bell that next time she must teach the whole of the lesson instead of stopping halfway. You kept your promise and didn't ask what their names were. I membered, said Minnie with a little sob. I know their names now. Of course you do, and if you couldn't tell which was which, that can hardly be called your fault. Halfway teaching, said Grandpa again, after the little girl had been comforted and gone happily to her play. There is a world of mischief done by that kind of teaching. If you are going to be a teacher, you want to take this for a lesson, and be careful that you don't forget half of the lesson. Grandma was rather afraid that I would feel hurt. She was a grandma who all her life was looking out for and being careful of other people's feelings. So now she said, But after all, Father, this was only fun, not real genuine teaching. It really doesn't make much difference how many of her funny little questions Minnie asks as long as she is such a little bit of a mouse. Don't you think we may take things too soberly in this world? And then Grandpa turned his dear loving eyes on me to see whether I was taking it too soberly, as he said, I don't think there is any harm in getting an earnest lesson for the future even out of our little Minnie's queer sayings and doings. I suppose that is one reason why the sunny days of babyhood are given to us, instead of our having a grown-up young lady all at once. Years after that I had two little girls who came to recite arithmetic lessons. One day they had to be kept to get their lesson. It was a line in the multiplication table. They whispered together a minute, and then they said about their work with energy. When they came to recite, Laura went through with the first half of the line very perfectly. Then she stopped. Go on, I said, and I have to smile yet to think of the absurd little voice that said, Sister Anne learned the other half. It brought back in a minute my half lesson to Minnie and my father's words. I told the little girls the story right away, and tried to make them want to do things with all their hearts and not half way.  Once when I was dressing her for a walk she was very anxious to wear a wide blue sash with a bright pink merino dress that she had on. Why, Minnie, I said, that would be dressing in very bad taste. Don't you know that pink and blue don't look nicely together? Why don't they? She said, not inclined to be convinced. It was a question not easy to answer to a three-year-old, so I said, never mind why they don't. You can't always have the reason explained. You must be content to know that it is so because Auntie Bell says so.  We were in Grandpa's room putting the finishing touches to the dressing. Grandpa was at the table shaving. It is a pretty heavy responsibility that Auntie Bell is taking. He said looking around at us just then. After that sentence you must be very careful indeed that what you say is just so. How many times I have thought of that since when I have been tempted to say, I haven't time, when I meant, I don't want to, or to say, in a few minutes, when I meant as many hours. But I started out to tell you how Minnie applied her new idea. The next morning I was up at the other house, waiting for Minnie's mama to go out with me. She stood at the glass arranging her hat, and Minnie at her side was looking up soberly and thoughtfully into the glass. Somebody feels rather grave over the prospect of a walk being taken without her. Mama said in a low tone, calling my attention to the sober face. But it seemed that she was mistaken as to the cause of the gravity. Just then Minnie spoke, Mama, I don't think your face is in good taste at all. Not in good taste, said Mama, very much astonished. What in the world can the child mean?  And Auntie Bell said that red and blue were very bad taste, and that I was never to wear them together, and you have to wear yours all the time. I am so sorry for you, Mama. Mama left off trying to tie her bonnet strings into a nice bow, and sat down in the nearest chair to laugh. I don't know what will come next, she said, as soon as she could speak. If my little girl has got so that she objects to my cheeks and eyes because they are not in good taste, I must be prepared for anything. Is Auntie Bell's teaching all going to be as inconvenient as that? We heard a good deal about it after that, and I am not sure even to this day whether they laughed most at Minnie for her queer idea or at Auntie Bell for her queer teaching. Grandpa had a different way of teaching. Let me give you one other little story that will show you how he did it. Among the many wedding presents that my friends gave me was a butter knife. That I think I thought more of than of most all the others, because my dear little Minnie was the giver. I brought it home with me when I came on a visit, and we used it on Grandma's table to please Minnie. One day she watched her Papa very anxiously as he helped himself to butter, and seemed relieved when he sat down the dish. What now? He said, with a little laugh, as he noticed her thoughtful face. Have I done anything to hurt your little bits of feelings? Why, said Minnie with a little sigh, I was most afraid. You scraped it so hard, Papa, I was most afraid you would lose the name off in the butter, and somebody would eat it up, and we couldn't find it any more. What name? Papa said in great amazement, while the rest of us burst into merry laughter. Why, the name, Papa? She said, struggling with her embarrassment, don't you know we had the man put words on it, Auntie Belle from Minnie, and I was afraid you would scrape them off. At this point the laugh became so loud that Minnie slipped down from her chair and ran to her refuge, Grandma's lap, hiding her face in Grandma's neck. It was on the evening of the same day that Grandpa took his darling in his arms, and I, passing back and forth at my work, heard bits of the sweet talk that they were having. The man engraved the name on the knife, Grandpa said, and after that no one could get it off no matter how hard they might try. Then followed a very plain talk about engraving, how it was done, and why it couldn't be got off. When I went that way again they had gone to another part of the subject. There's a verse in the Bible about it, Grandpa was saying. It says he will engrave our names on his hand, Jesus' hand, you know. That means that if we love him he will be just as sure not to forget us as you would be not to forget the name of a dear friend if it were engraved right on the palm of your hand here, where you could read it every time you looked down. Wouldn't you like to have Jesus think as much of you as that? And I, as I passed out of hearing, thought. That is Grandpa's way of teaching. It is a lesson better worth learning than the one about pink and blue ribbons, and it hasn't been half-taught.