“Why, however did you learn all that long Psalm, dear? And you recited it so beautifully, too!--Not a single mistake! I never was prouder in my life!” Grandpa didn't kiss her, but he kept saying over and over: “Just think of that baby!--the dear little baby.” And Missy, despite her spiritual exaltation, couldn't help feeling tremendously pleased. “It was a surprise--I thought you'd be surprised,” she remarked with satisfaction. Grandma excitedly began to ask all kinds of questions as to how Missy came to pick out that particular Psalm, and what difficulties she experienced in learning it all; but it was grandpa who, characteristically, enquired: “And what does it mean to you, Missy?” “Mean--?” she repeated. “Yes. For instance, what does that last verse mean?” “'Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life--?' That--?” “Yes, baby.” “Why, I think I see myself walking through some big, thick woods. It's springtime, and the trees are all green, and the grass slick and soft. And birds are singing, and the wind's singing in the leaves, too. And the sun's shining, and all the clouds have silver edges.” She paused. “Yes, dear,” said grandpa. “That's the house of the Lord,” she explained. “Yes, dear,” said grandpa again. “What else?” “Well, I'm skipping and jumping along, for I'm happy to be in the house of the Lord. And there are three little fairies, all dressed in silver and gold, and with paper-flowers in their hair, and long diamond bangles hanging like fringe on their skirts. They're following me, and they're skipping and jumping, too. They're the three fairies in the verse.” “The three fairies?” Grandpa seemed puzzled. “Yes. It says 'Surely goodness and mercy,' you know.” “But that makes only two, doesn't it?” said grandpa, still puzzled. Missy laughed at his stupidity. “Why, no!--Three!” She counted them off on her fingers: “Surely--and Goodness--and Mercy. Don't you see?” “Oh, yes, dear--I see now,” said grandpa, very slowly. “I wasn't counting Surely.” Just then came a chuckle from the doorway. Missy hadn't seen Pete enter, else she would have been less free in revealing her real thoughts. What had he overheard? Still laughing, Pete advanced into the room. “So there's a fairy named 'Surely,' is there? What's the colour of her eyes, Missy?” Missy shrank a little closer into the haven of grandpa's knees. And grandpa, in the severe voice that made the other children stand in awe of him, said: “That will do, Peter!” But Peter, unawed, went on: “I know, grandpa--but she's such a funny little dingbat! And now, that she's turned pious--” Grandpa interrupted him with a gesture of the hand. “I said that'd do, Peter. If you'd find some time to attend prayers instead of cavorting round over town, it wouldn't hurt you any.” Then grandma, who, though she was fond of Missy, was fond of Pete also, joined in defensively: