"The Bishop knows all 'bout it," excused Sandy sturdily, when
confronted by Marjorie the next morning.
"The Bishop knows that all your clothes are in the bath, with both
taps running!"
"Well, he does," Sandy repeated, "proberly. He said we were the
out-an'-outest dirtiest little grubs he'd ever seen."
"That you are--no one will contradict him. But he couldn't know that
your clothes were in the bath."
"Yes, he would. If they were so dirty, where else could they be?
It's all that 'gustin' funderstorm."
"Thunderstorm!" echoed Marjorie suspiciously. "That was at ten
o'clock. What has that got to do with your clothes and the Bishop?"
"Tell you it has. You'd best ask him, if you don't b'lieve me," said
Sandy, hurt at her unbelief. "Anyhow, he does know that they was
dirty. An' just cos we want to save trouble an' wash 'em ourselves,
you're cross an' spiteful. Girls are no good--'cept little uns.
What's there to put on? Best be somefink old, cos there's a deal of
diggin' to be done."
"I shall stop that digging if you make such a mess of yourselves."
"You'd best not," said David meaningly, from his bed in the further
corner. "If you do, you'll be sorry," he said darkly.
END OF CHAPTER SIX.
[Illustration: Three Songs of Birth]
Three
Songs of Birth
A
_Christmas_
_Sermon_
By the Rev. Hugh Miller, M.A.
"Suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host
praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace, good will toward men."--ST. LUKE ii. 13, 14.
Three times are we told in Scripture that the angels sang. At the
birth of the world, when the foundations of the earth were laid, the
morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy.
When Jesus was born into the world a multitude of the heavenly host
praised God and said, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace, good will toward men." And when anyone is born again there is
joy among the angels in heaven over the sinner that repenteth. The
subject of the song in each case is the same: the leading _motif_ of
them all is man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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