“Wanting to make people happy, and doing it are two very different things, Budge.”

“Yes, I should think they was,” said Budge, with an emphasis which explained much that was left unsaid.

“Little boysh is goosies for tryin’ to make big folksh happy at all,” said Toddie, beginning again to cry.

“Oh, no, they’re not, dear,” said Mrs. Burton, taking the sorrowful child into her lap.  “But they don’t always understand how best to do it, so they ought to ask big folks before they begin.”

“Then there wouldn’t be no s’prises,” complained Toddie.  “Say; izh we goin’ to eat all this supper?”

“I suppose so, if we can,” sighed Mrs. Burton.

“I guesh we can—­Budgie an’ me,” said Toddie.  “An’ won’t we be glad all them wimmens wented away!”

That evening, after the boys had retired, Mrs. Burton seemed a little uneasy of mind, and at length she said to her husband: 

“I feel guilty at never having directed the boys’ devotions since they have been here, and I know no better time than the present in which to begin.”

Mr. Burton’s eyes followed his wife reverently as she left the room.  The service she proposed to render the children she had sometimes performed for himself, with results for which he could not be grateful enough, and yet it was not with unalloyed anticipation that he softly followed her up the stair.  Mrs. Burton went into the chamber and found the boys playing battering-ram, each with a pillow in front of him.

“Children,” said she, “have you said your prayers?”

“No,” said Budge; “somebody’s got to be knocked down first. Then we will.”

A sudden tumble by Toddie was the signal for devotional exercises, and both boys knelt beside the bed.

“Now, darlings,” said Mrs. Burton, “you have made some sad mistakes to-day, and they should teach you that, even when you want most to do right, you need to be helped by somebody better.  Don’t you think so?”

“I do,” said Budge.  “Lots.”

“I don’t,” said Toddie.  “More help I getsh, the worse fings is.  Guesh I’ll do fings all alone affer thish.”

“I know what to say to the Lord to-night, Aunt Alice,” said Budge.

“Dear little boy,” said Mrs. Burton, “go on.”

“Dear Lord,” said Budge, “we do have the awfullest times when we try to make other folks happy. Do, please, Lord—­please teach big folks how hard little folks have to think before they do things for ’em.  An’ make ’em understand little folks every way better than they do, so that they don’t make little folks unhappy when they try to make big folks feel jolly.  Make big folks have to think as hard as little folks do, for Christ’s sake—­Amen!  Oh, yes, an’ bless dear mamma an’ the sweet little sister baby.  How’s that, Aunt Alice?”

Mrs. Burton did not reply, and Budge, on turning, saw only her departing figure, while Toddie remarked: