Part 9 (1/2)

”What can I do?” said Beth, who was tired of always being an audience.

”Take up the collection,” said Ethelwyn, ”we need some more pennies.”

”'The sermon, beloved,” said Ethelwyn after the singing, and a little preliminary ritual, ”is about Moses and Abiram, who both wanted to be boss of the temple.

”'I will be boss,' said Moses.

”'Not much,' said Abiram, standing on his tippest toes.

”Then they fit, and I've forgotten which one whipped, 'cause we haven't got that far yet; anyway it's lunch time, so do hurry and take up the collection.”

_CHAPTER XII_ _Sunday_

No matter how bad we are through the week, When Sunday comes 'round we grow very meek.

”I hope, Beth,” said Ethelwyn, who always woke up first, ”you will remember to-day is Sunday, and not quarrel with your sister,” But Beth cuddled down in the pillows and refused to answer a word. After a while, Ethelwyn, watching the sunbeams dancing on the pink wall, went to sleep herself, and opened her eyes only when her mother kissed her awake.

Sierra Nevada, being a devout Roman Catholic, always went to early ma.s.s on Sunday mornings, and their mother gave them their baths, to their great delight and comfort. The bath was all ready for them now, crystal clear with the jolly sunbeams dancing on its silver disk.

”We'll get a suns.h.i.+ne bath,” said Beth, trying to catch the golden drops.

”Inside and outside,” said mother smiling.

”You look so pretty, motherdy,” said Ethelwyn approvingly, ”So much prettier than black, cross old 'Vada, who always rolls her eyes at me and says, 'Miss Effel, you is de troublesomest chile dat ebba was bown.'

You have sense, and in that blue gown, white ap.r.o.n, and cap, you are pretty. You get prettier all the time you are getting old, mother.

You'll be a beautiful angel when you are very old.”

”Thank you,” said her mother laughing. ”Come on now, do you know your verse?”

”I did,” said Ethelwyn, ”but the verse hasn't any sense: it's about St.

Peter's wife's mother being sick with the fever--”

”And St. Peter cut off the priest's right ear, and then he went out and crew bitterly,” said Beth, jumping up and down to see how high she could splash.

”Elizabeth!” said her mother, going off into spasms of laughter. ”You are a heathen! Can't you ever get things right? I will say, though, I think the verses they select for infant cla.s.ses are anything but suitable, but for pity's sake don't say the one you told me, you will disgrace me. I will hear you after breakfast.”

But Aunt Mandy the cook was sick with the toothache, which she called a ”plum mizzery” in her face, and mother was so busy, that 'Vada, who had returned and was more solemn than ever, dressed them and took them to Sunday-school.

The infant cla.s.s sat on seats that began close to the floor, and gradually rose to the top of the room. Ethelwyn and Nan sat high up, while Beth was a little way below. Bobby sat near her, and had grinned all over his round face when she came in.

”I've brought my white mouse in my pocket; I'm going to stay for church, and I get lonesome,” he whispered.

”Uh huh,” said Beth nodding, ”I've brought my paper dolls.” But sister punched her in the back with her parasol to be quiet, and just then the teacher asked her verse.

Beth thought hard. ”Mother said I mustn't tell you about the priest crewing about his cut off ear,” she said thoughtfully, ”but I know another verse about St. Peter, it's easier to merember than the other one, 'cause it's poetry.”