"William Bertrand!" William felt his father's elbow at his ribs and seemed to hear his respectful whisper at his ear.

"Let us pray," said the preacher, and William rested his head upon the pew in front. The hymn and benediction were a blurred unreality. Presently he found himself moving slowly down the aisle between his parents. He felt that many pairs of eyes were glancing at him interestedly. The cool air was a relief, with its pleasant springtime smell of outdoors.

"I'm very proud of William," his mother was saying in a satisfied tone as she adjusted her gloves. William still moved between them along the gravel walk. "Did you notice how quietly he sat, and how closely he paid attention?"

William looked up and met his father's direct downward glance.

"Hm! yes," said his father, noisily clearing his throat.

"What was the text, William?" said his mother, fondly.

William did not even hesitate. "And the five men that went to spy out the land went up, and came in thither, and took the gravest image, and the eefod, and the turrafim, and the moldly image: and the priest stood in the gate with the six hundred men with weapons of war."

"Splendid! And what was the sermon about?"

William evinced a quite natural embarrassment. "In the Philippines," he began.

"What?" said his mother, bringing up short in her astonishment.

Mr. Alcott interrupted, hastily. "He's thinking of that reference to the-ah-Philippians. It was mighty clever of William, remembering it, and then hanging on to the text like that. It's a hard thing, my dear," continued Mr. Alcott, hurriedly, "to synopsize a sermon. One gets the gist of it, you know, without being able to put it into words exactly. I don't believe I could do it myself. I sometimes listen in much the same way Bertie-William-does. Hm! yes, in much the same way."

"Perhaps you're right," said Mrs. Alcott, comfortably, beaming once more her satisfaction.

66

WHEN

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" WHEN the first airplane was expected in a little Red River town many persons gathered to see it land on the sand bar.

Near the edge of the crowd stood a black mammy and Uncle George, a little old darky with a fringe of white whiskers around his gentle, wrinkled face.

As the plane appeared in the distant sky Aunt Amelia rocked her huge body back and forth in true camp-meeting style and, beating her hands in time to her swaying, cried: "Thank de Lord! Thank de Lord!"

Uncle George gazed up in silence until the wonder came very near, then, raising his trembling hands devoutly, he exclaimed, "I's ninety years old and dat's de onliest piece of God's furniture I ebber see."

How She Helps Mamma

THE teacher at a certain private school strives to impress upon the plastic minds of her pupils a proper appreciation of filial solicitude. Recently she asked members of a class to tell in what ways they had been helping their mothers. The answers, given in rotation as the pupils were seated, related a wide range of little services, and the teacher was much pleased with the result of her gentle admonition. But she noticed that a little

girl who was last in the row cast rather contemptuous glances upon her classmates as they related their commonplace services, and when her turn came to answer, the eyes of the others were fixed on her, as she lives in an opulent home where a number of servants attend to the household routine.

"Well, Gracie," the teacher asked, "what have you been doing to help mamma?" "Oh, lots of things!" was the reply. "But mostly I go to the Country Club and get cigarettes for her."

"Where have you been, Louise?" asked her mother. "And what are you eating?". "Cheese," said the young lady, calmly. "Cheese? Where did you get it, dear?" "In the mousetrap."

"In the mousetrap!" exclaimed her mother, horrified. "But what will the mice do? They won't have any cheese."

"Oh, they don't care. There were two of them in the trap and they didn't mind a bit!"