puzzling question even to her
orthodox mind. Turning the leaves rapidly, passing, for conscience sake,
the record of many a battle, the details of which would have delighted
the boys, and hurrying by the prophecies as records not for the minds of
children, she at last reached the New Testament, and the ever-new story
of the only boy who ever was all that his parents and relatives could
wish him to be.

"The lesson will be about Jesus," said Mrs. Burton."

"Little-boy Jesus or big-man Jesus?" asked Toddie.

"A--a--both," replied the teacher, in some confusion.

"Aw wight," said Toddie. "G'won."

"There was once a time when all the world was in trouble, without
knowing exactly why," said Mrs. Burton; "but the Lord understood it, for
He understands everything."

"Does He knows how it feels to be a little boy?" asked Toddie, "an' be
sent to bed when He don't want to go?"

"And He determined to comfort the world, as He always does when the
world finds out it can't comfort itself," continued Mrs. Burton,
entirely ignoring her nephew's questions.

"But wasn't there lotzh of little boyzh then?" asked Toddie, "an' didn't
they used to be comforted as well as big folks?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Burton. "But He knew if He comforted grown
people, they would make the children happy."

"I wiss He'd comfort you an' Uncle Harry every mornin', then," said
Toddie. "G'won."

"So He sent His own Son--his only Son--down to the world to be a dear
little baby."

"_I_ should think He'd have made Him a _sister_ baby," said Budge, "if
He'd wanted to make everybody happy."

"He knew best," said Mrs. Burton. "And while smart people everywhere
were wondering what would or could happen to quiet the restless heart of
people--"

"Izh restless hearts like restless tummuks?" interrupted Toddie. "Kind
o' limpy an' wabbley?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Burton.

"_Poor_ folks," said Toddie clasping, his hands over his waistband:
"Izhe sorry for 'em."

"While smart folks were trying to think out what should be done,"
continued Mrs. Burton, "some simple shepherds, who used to sit around at
night under the moon and stars, and wonder about things which they could
not understand, saw a wonderfully bright star up in the sky."

"Was it one of the twinkle-twinkle kind, or one of the stand-still
kind?" asked Toddie.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Burton, after a moment's reflection. "Why do
you ask?"

"'Cauzh," said Toddie, "I know what 't