harity.

"Now, we must be good an' perlite, if we want to
do right and have things Chrissmas, an' if we want
to be loved on earth and in heaven. (No, sir, that
ain't talkin' big, and I _do_ know what I mean,
too.) I say, we must be perlite. We mussent get
mad unless we can't help it. It's natural for big
folks to rub our noses the wrong way when they
wash our faces, an' to comb hair hard--they're
born so. An' all we can do is to be patient, an'
wait till we get big an' have chil'ren of our own.

[Illustration: FANDY "PREACHES A SERMON" TO HIS BROTHERS AND SISTERS.]

"But what I say--what I mean, what I--what I--(Now
you, Gregory, give Helen back her dolly right
away, or I'll come down to you!)--what I mean is,
that we all ought to be good and perlite. It's
wicked to be saucy. We ought to be able to stand
one another. An' nudgin' is wicked, an' shovin' is
wicked, an' makin' faces ain't the way to do. No
more ain't bullyin', nor mockin', nor any of
those things. I go in for bein' pleasant and
kind, an' havin' fun fair; only, my beloved
hearers, I can't do it all alone. If we'd all be
good Chrisshen chil'ren, things would go better,
an' there wouldn't be such a racket.

"Can't you cleanse your sinful hearts, my
hearers?--cleanse 'em, anyhow, enough to behave?
Can't you? (Stop your answerin', David; it puts me
out, and, besides, you oughtn't to say that. You
ought to say 'I'll try.') I notice you ain't none
of you real quiet and peaceful, unless I'm
preachin', or you're eatin' something good. I also
can see two people lookin' through the crack,
which I think they'd better come in, as I wouldn't
mind it. Now I can't extort you no more this
time."

To Fandy's great disgust, the audience applauded the conclusion of his
sermon, and were about to become more uproarious than ever, when the
sudden appearance of Donald and Dorothy put them upon their good
behavior.

"Is Ben here?" asked Donald, after the usual "How-d'ye-do's" were over,
and as Fandy was taking a hasty turn at the roller-towel.

"Don't know," said Fandy; "he was mendin' a trap, over there,"--pointing
to an enclosed corn