very small. Keith's father
went to communion once a year. That was all. The mother went a little
oftener, but as a rule something else turned up about the time she ought
to start, and so she stayed home and read a chapter in some Lutheran
postil instead. Keith thought little of that kind of books. He had tried
them and found them dull beyond endurance.

"Do you really like reading that stuff," he said to his mother one
Sunday.

"Keith!" she protested sternly. Then she continued more mildly: "It is
not a question of like or dislike, my boy, but of saving your soul by
humbling it before the Lord."

"Can you do that by reading," asked Keith innocently.

"N-no ... not exactly," his mother hesitated. But you can.... Oh, I know
I ought to be in church instead of sitting here, but I am such a weak
vessel, and I am sure that the Lord will understand and forgive me."

"Well, then you don't need to worry, mamma," said Keith consolingly,
stirred as always by the appearance of an emotional note in her voice.

"We should always worry," she rejoined very gently, "because we are all
sinners and we have a chance only by His mercy. But I don't believe in a
hell, whatever they say, and I don't want you, Keith, to pay any
attention to anything of that kind they may teach you."

"But why do they teach it then," asked Keith, his logic alert.

"Because ... it's a long story, and you will understand it some day. Now
I want to finish my chapter, or I won't be able to do so before dinner
is ready."

Keith would have liked to ask more, but what concerned him was the
apparent contradiction in his mother's words rather than the subject of
religion itself. His main impression of religion so far was that it was
something very tedious to which grown-up people submitted for some
mysterious reason never really revealed to children. And this impression
was abundantly confirmed by his subsequent experiences in the prudishly
ugly precincts of St. Mary Magdalene.

Seats were reserved in one of the side galleries for the pupils from Old
Mary. Two teachers sat in one of the front pews, so that they could look
down into the church. Aspiring youngsters who wanted to make sure of
good marks were apt to look upon the same pews with special favour. The
rest of the boys wanted to sit as far back as possible, where they could
whisper, and show each other pictures, and eat candy without too much
danger of being discovered. These pursuits brought no relie