said.

"Well, if the rest of them will hurry up and marry off, so the expenses
won't be so heavy, maybe I can."

"How many of you are there?" he asked.

"Only twelve," I said.

He looked down the road at our house.

"Do you mean to tell me you have twelve children there?" he inquired.

"Oh no!" I answered. "Some of the big boys have gone into business in
the cities around, and some of the girls are married. Mother says she
has only to show her girls in the cities to have them snapped up like
hot cakes."

"I fancy that is the truth," he said. "I've passed the one who rides
the little black pony and she is a picture. A fine, healthy,
sensible-appearing young woman!"

"I don't think she's as pretty as your girl," I said.

"Perhaps I don't either," he replied, smiling at me.

Then he mounted his horse.

"I don't remember that I ever have passed that house," he said,
"without hearing some one singing. Does it go on all the time?"

"Yes, unless mother is sick."

"And what is it all about?"

"Oh just joy! Gladness that we are alive, that we have things to do
that we like, and praising the Lord."

"Umph!" said Mr. Pryor.

"It's just letting out what our hearts are full of," I told him.
"Don't you know that song:

"'Tis the old time religion
And you cannot keep it still?'"

He shook his head.

"It's an awful nice song," I explained. "After it sings about all the
other things religion is good for, there is one line that says: 'IT'S
GOOD FOR THOSE IN TROUBLE.'"

I looked at him straight and hard, but he only turned white and seemed
sick.

"So?" said Mr. Pryor. "Well, thank you for the most interesting
morning I've had this side England. I should be delighted if you would
come and hunt lions in my woods with me some time."

"Oh, do you open the door to children?"

"Certainly we open the door to children," he said, and as I live, he
looked so sad I couldn't help thinking he was sorry to close it against
any one. A mystery is the dreadfulest thing.

"Then if children don't matter, maybe I can come lion-hunting some time
with the Princess, after she has made the visit at our house she said
she would."

"Indeed! I hadn't been informed that my daughter contemplated visiting
your house," he said. "When was it arranged?"

"My mother invited her last Sunday."

I didn't like the way he said: "O-o-o-h!" Some way it seemed
insulting to my mother.

"She did it to please me," I said.