Ted will go and look
to-morrow with nursey."

"To-morrow's Sunday, Master Ted," said nurse; "I'll be going to church."

"What's church?" he asked.

"Church is everybody praying to God, all together in a big house. Don't
you remember, Master Ted?"

"Oh ses, Ted 'members," he replied. "What's praying to 'Dod, nurse?"

"Why, I am sure you know that, Master Ted. You must have forgotten. Ask
your mamma again."

Ted took her advice. Later in the evening he went downstairs to say
good-night. His mother was outside, walking about the garden, for it was
a beautiful summer evening. Ted ran to her; but on his way something
caught his eye, which sent a pang to his little heart. It was the bunch
of flowers he had gathered for her, lying withered already, poor little
things, on a bench just by the door, where she had laid them when saying
good-bye to her visitors. Ted stopped short; his face grew very red,
and big tears rose slowly to his eyes. He was carefully collecting
them together in his little hand when his mother called to him.

"Come, Ted, dear," she said; "what are you about?"

More slowly than his wont Ted trotted towards her. "Muzzer doesn't care
for zem," he said, holding out his neglected offering. "Poor f'owers
dies when they's leaved out of water."

"My darling," said his mother with real sorrow in her voice, "I am so
sorry, so very sorry, dear little Ted," and she stooped to kiss him.
"Give them to me now, and I will _always_ keep them."

Ted was quickly consoled.

"Zem's not towslips," he said regretfully. "Ted would like towslips for
muzzer." And then with a quick change of thought he went on, "What is
praying to 'Dod?" he said, looking up eagerly with his bright blue eyes.

"Praying to God means asking Him anything we want, and then He answers
us. Just as you ask me something, and I answer you. And if what we ask
is good for us, He gives it us. That is one way of answering our
prayers, but there are many ways. You will understand better when you
are bigger, dear little Ted."

Ted asked no more, but a bright pleased look came into his face. He was
fond of asking questions, but he did not ask silly ones, nor tease and
tease as some children do, and, as I said, when he got an answer he
thought it well over in his little head till he got to understand, or
thought he understood. Till now his mother had thought him too little to
teach him to say his prayers, but now in her own mind she began to feel
he w