But Mrs. Murphy had begun on the floor, and was scrubbing so vigorously she did not hear the question. When order finally evolved from chaos, Mrs. Murphy, with her hair disheveled and arms akimbo, viewed the scene. Everything was so clean it was sleek,--sleek enough to ride down hill on and never miss snow or ice. "Come 'ere, childern," said Mrs. Murphy, mopping her face with a corner of her apron. "I want yer to stan' aroun' the room, the hull ten o' yer, all but the baby. Mandy, do take the baby an' stop her cryin'. Joseph Smith, stan' at the head, 'cause y're the oldest. That's the way I uster stan' at the head o' the spellin' class when we uster spell down 'fore I graduated from deestrict school back in York State. Y'r Maw was a good speller, ef I do say it. 'Range y'rselfs in order, 'cordin' to age." A tumultuous scramble followed. Maternal cuffs, freely administered, brought a semblance of order. "Now, childern," said the mother, in a hard shrill voice, "what is y'r 'ligion? Speak up, or yer know what yer'll git!" "'Ligion o' the Latter Day Saints," answered Samuel. "An' who is the Prophet o' the Lord?" continued Mrs. Murphy. "Brigham Young," answered Amanda, assuming an air of conscious superiority. "No, he isn't neither," protested Brigham, "for my teacher said so. Jesus is the only prophet o' the Lord since Old Testament times." But the heretic was jerked from the line, to await later muscular arguments. Then the mother continued her catechism. "Who's another prophet o' the Lord as has had relevations?" "Joseph Smith," responded Kate, timidly. "That's right. What divine truth did Joseph Smith teach?" "That men should marry lots o' wives," said Jake, realizing that he had answered the most important question of the catechism. "Yes, childern," she said, with an air of great complacence, "I've obeyed the prophet o' the Lord. I've had five husbands, an' I've raised ten young uns. Now what I want yer to understan' is that yer Maw an' her childern has got all the 'ligion as they wants. Schoolma'am had better not persume to talk 'ligion to me." She drew herself up as straight as a ramrod, and her lips set firmly. "But I wanter show her I'm uster entertainin'. I'll give her the silver spoon. An' I do wisht I had a napting to put at her place." "What's that, Maw?" asked Samuel. "What's what?" "Why, what yer want ter put at schoolma'am's plate?" "Oh, a little towel, like. 'Ristercratic people uses them when they eats. They puts 'em on their laps." "Won't a dish towel do?" "Landy! No!" "Well, we ain't stylish, anyway," said Samuel, philosophically, "an' it's no use to worry." "Stylish? We're stylish when we wants to be, an' this is one o' them times." "Is it stylish ter go ter Bible school?" asked Brigham. He seemed greatly puzzled. "No, sir-ee, it ain't stylish, an' you ain't goin' thar," she said, giving him a cuff on the ear by way of emphasis.