[Illustration: "YOU SAID ’NOW I LAY ME’ IN UNISON"] "—and God bless Captain Jinks," for even a wooden soldier needed God in those long, dark nights of childhood, while Lizbeth said: "—and God bless all my dollies, and send my Sally doll a new leg." But though God sent three new legs in turn, Sally was always losing them, so that finally Lizbeth confided in Mother: "Pretty soon God ’ll be tired of sending Sally new legs, I guess. _You_ speak to Him next time, Mother, ’cause I’m ’shamed to any more." And when Mother asked Him, He sent a new Sally instead of a new leg. It would be cheaper, Mother told Father, in the long-run. In the diplomatic precedence of Lizbeth’s prayers, Father and Mother were blessed first, and you came between "Grandfather and Grandmother" and "God bless my dollies." Thus was your family rank established for all time by a little girl in a white night-gown. You were a little lower than your elders, it is true, but you were higher than the legless Sally or the waxen blonde. When Lizbeth and you were good, you loved each other, and when you were bad, both of you at the same time, you loved each other too, _very_ dearly. But sometimes it happened that Lizbeth was good and you were bad, and then she only loved Mother, and ran and told tales on you. And you—well, you did not love anybody at all. When your insides said it would be a long time before dinner, and your mouth watered, and you stood on a chair by the pantry shelf with your hand in a brown jar, and when Lizbeth found you there, you could tell by just looking at her face that she was very good that day, and that she loved Mother better than she did you. So you knew without even thinking about it that you were very bad, and you did not love anybody at all, and your heart quaked within you at Lizbeth’s sanctity. But there was always a last resort. "Lizbeth, if you tell"—you mumbled awfully, pointing at her an uncanny forefinger dripping preserves—"if you tell, a great big black Gummy-gum ’ll get you when it’s dark, and he’ll pick out your eyes and gnaw your ears off, and he’ll keep one paw over your mouth, so you can’t holler, and when the blood comes—" Lizbeth quailed before you. She began to cry. "You won’t tell, _will_ you?" you demanded, fiercely, making eyes like a Gummy-gum and showing your white teeth. "No—o—o," wailed Lizbeth. "Well, stop crying, then," you commanded, sucking your syrupy fingers. "If you cry, the Gummy-gum ’ll come and get you _now_." Lizbeth looked fearfully over her shoulder and stopped. By that time your fingers were all sucked, and the cover was back on the jar, and you were saved. But that night, when Mother and Father came home, you watched Lizbeth, and lest she should forget, you made the eyes of a Gummy-gum, when no one but Lizbeth saw. Mother tucked you both into bed and kissed you and put out the light. Then Lizbeth whimpered. [Illustration: "MOTHER TUCKED YOU BOTH INTO BED AND KISSED YOU"]