ake your little brother to bed instantly!
Take him out of my hearing."

Angel and I each grasped an arm of the reluctant infant and dragged him
from the room. He stamped up the stairway between us, with an air of
stubborn jollity.

When we had reached the top, he loosed himself from me and put his head
over the handrail.

"'John Peel's View Halloo! would waken the dead'--" he roared down into the
hall.

But he got no further. Between us we hustled him into the bedroom, and shut
the door. Angel and I leaned against it, then, in helpless laughter.

In a moment I felt my arm squeezed by Angel, who was pointing ecstatically
toward the bed.

There, by the bedside, his dimpled hands folded, his curly head meekly
bent, knelt The Seraph.

He was saying his prayers.

_Chapter VII: Granfa_

I

At Mrs. Handsomebody's on a Sunday morning Angel and I had an egg divided
between us, after our porridge. It was boiled rather hard so that it might
not run, and we watched the cutting of it jealously. The Seraph's infant
organs were supposed not to be strong enough to cope with even half an egg,
so he must needs satisfy himself with the cap from Mrs. Handsomebody's; and
he made the pleasure endure by the most minute nibbling, filling up the
gaps with large mouthfuls of toast.

It was at a Sunday morning breakfast that Mrs. Handsomebody broached the
subject of fishing. Angel and I had just scraped the last vestige of
rubbery white from our half shells, and, having reversed them in our
egg-cups, were gazing wistfully at what appeared to be two unchipped eggs,
when she spoke.

"You have been invited by Bishop Torrance to go on a fishing excursion with
him tomorrow, and I have consented; provided, of course, that your conduct
today be most exemplary. What do you say? Thanks would not be amiss."

Angel and I mumbled thanks, though we were well nigh speechless with
astonishment and joy. The Seraph bolted his cherished bit of egg whole and
said in his polite little voice:

"He's a vewy nice man to take us fishin'. I wonder what made him do it."

"I have never pretended," returned Mrs. Handsomebody, stiffly, "to account
for the vagaries of the male. Yet I grant you it seems singular that a
dignitary of the church should find pleasure in such a project, in company
with three growing boys."

"If it had been anyone but the Bishop," she went on, "I should have
refused, for there are untold possibilities of danger in trout