g Sunday-school, the singing part, and you may come if
you're good, and know a verse, and won't baptize the Sunday-school,"
said Beth, multiplying conditions rapidly.

"I know a verse that father says he thinks ought to be in the Bible,"
said Nan.

"Let's not have Sunday-school," she continued, snuggling down on Mrs.
Rayburn's shoulder. "It's so nice here, and I want to tell you 'bout my
dream I had the other night. Dreamed I went to heaven awhile, and when I
came home I slid down fifty miles of live wire and sissed all the way
down like a hot flatiron."

"There's a gold crack in the sky now that shows a little weenty bit of
Heaven's floor, I think, right now," said Ethelwyn, going to the west
window.

They all followed her, and sure enough there was the gold of the sky
shining through the misty rain clouds.

"Now, if God and the angels would just peek out a minute, I'd be
thankful," said Elizabeth.

_CHAPTER V_
_The New Way_

It's--hard--to--work--
And easy to play;
I'll tell you what we've done,
We play our work
And work our play,
And all the hard is gone.

The children were always glad when Mrs. Flaharty came to wash, for she
was never too busy to talk to them, nor to let them wash dolls' clothes
in some of her suds, nor, in her own way, to converse, and to explain
things to them.

One Monday morning the two were in the back yard with gingham aprons
tied around their waists for trails, and with one of Aunty Stevens'
bright saucepans which they put on their heads in turn. In this rig,
they felt that their appearance left little to be desired.

They were having literary exercises while Mrs. Flaharty was hanging the
white clothes on the line, and, by reason of her exceeding interest in
the proceedings, she took her time about it too.

In the midst of Ethelwyn's recitation of "Mary Had a Little Lamb," she
paused to say, after, "The eager children cry,"

"What do you s'pose the silly things cried for?"

"'Cause they didn't have any lamb, prob'ly," promptly replied Elizabeth
from the audience, where she sat surrounded by her dolls. "Hurry up,
sister, it's my turn."

"Is it ager, children, you're askin' about?" asked Mrs. Flaharty,
flopping out a sheet. "If you'd ever had the ager, what wid the pain in
your bones an' the faver in your blood, you'd be likely to cry--whin you
had the stren'th."

"Is it shaking ager?" asked Elizabeth doubtfully. "Oh, I didn't know