"Yes, I can trust you. Once one of us, I couldn't tell you which one, but one of us told a wrong story, a falsehood, an untruth. One of the dreadful things that made our dear Lord kill Ananias and Sapphira dead. Wasn't that awful? Mamma and papa didn't know what to do. A nickel didn't seem much pay for a lie, did it? So they made it a dollar. Yes, ma'am, one whole dollar. That's twenty nickels. Oh, it was so unhappy those days! I was gladder than ever that I was blind. I think I should have died to see the bad face of the one that did it while it was bad. But mamma says such a lesson is never, never forgotten. You see, we haven't any right to be bad, have we?" "I suppose not, dear. What a wise little thinker you are!" "Papa says I think too much. That's why, one why, he was so glad to get me the burro. He hopes it will stop me some. But in a home a body must remember it isn't his home nor her home, but the home of everybody that belongs. If I should be naughty, it would throw things all out of--of smoothness, don't you know. I can't be naughty all by myself. If I could--no, I wouldn't like it either. When I'm selfish or bad, I always feel as if I had on a dirty apron, and I do just hate dirty clothes!" "And you do just love to talk, little one," cried the superintendent, coming in and catching up his daughter in his strong arms. "We tell her, Miss Amy, that she makes up for what she doesn't see by what she does say. Eh, midget?" Nanette cuddled her fair head against her father's beard, and turned her eyes toward Amy. It seemed impossible to believe that those beautiful eyes could not really behold whereon they rested, and the tears of sympathy rose to Amy's own as she tried to comprehend this. "Isn't he a dear, funny papa? But you just wait until you see my mother. She's the nicest thing in this whole world. Oh, papa, shall I call the baby 'Amy'?" "If you like, darling. It's a pleasant, old-fashioned name." "I'll tell you a better one, though it's longer. That is 'Salome.'" "Who's she?" asked Nanette. "My mother. As you feel about yours, I think she is the sweetest thing in this whole world." "Sa-lo-me, Sa-lo-me," repeated the child, slowly. "That is pretty. What do you say about that, papa?" "As you and mother please, darling. It is a good name. But now, dear, run away. I have to talk business with this new friend of yours, and where you are--eh?" "Yes, I do talk, don't I? I love to talk. Good-by, Amy. Please come again to see me, and every time you must ride on Peppy--what is her name?" "Pe-pi-ta. It is Spanish and very pretty, I think." "Pay-pee-tah," repeated Nanette, imitating the sound and ignorant of the spelling.