Budge. "He sings awful funny songs, an' tells splendid stories."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the angry mother.

"They ain't no nonsense at all," said Budge. "I don't think it's
nice for to say that, when his stories are always about Joseph,
an' Abraham, an' Moses, an' when Jesus was a little boy, an' the
Hebrew children, an' lots of people that the Lord loved. An' he's
awful 'fectionate, too."

"Yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Mayton.

"When we says our prayers we prays for the nice lady what he
'spects, an' he likes us to do it," continued Budge.

"How do you know?" demanded Mrs. Mayton.

"Cos he always kisses us when we do it, an' that's what my papa
does when he likes what we pray."

Mrs. Mayton's mind became absorbed in earnest thought, but Budge
had not said all that was in his heart.

"An' when Toddie or me tumbles down an' hurts ourselves, 'tain't
no matter what Uncle Harry's doin' he runs right out an' picks us
up an' comforts us. He froed away a cigar the other day, he was in
such a hurry when a wasp stung me, an' Toddie picked the cigar up
and ate it, an' it made him AWFUL sick."

The last-named incident did not affect Mrs. Mayton deeply, perhaps