“Not at all; yours are not boisterous, and their pretty ways are very winning.”

Aunt Chloe and Dinah were in waiting, and soon had the three small figures robed each in its white night-dress.

Then mamma—­seated upon a sofa with little Violet on her lap, the other two, one on each side—­was quite at their disposal for the next half hour or so; ready to listen or to talk; her sweet sympathy and tender love encouraging them to open all their young hearts to her, telling her of any little joy or sorrow, trouble, vexation, or perplexity.

“Well, darlings, have you remembered your verses and our little talk about them this morning?” the mother asked.  “Elsie may speak first, because she is the eldest.”

“Mamma, I have thought of them many times,” answered the sweet child voice; “we had a nice, nice walk with papa this morning, and the little birds, the brook, and the trees, and the pretty flowers and the beautiful blue sky all seemed to say to me, ‘God is love.’  Then mamma, once I was tempted to be naughty, and I said in my heart, ‘Lord, help me,’ and Jesus heard me.”

“What was it, dear?”

“We had a little tea party, mamma, with our cousins, out under the trees, and there was pie and very rich cake——­”

“And ’serves,” put in Eddie.

“Yes, mamma, and preserves too, and they looked so good, and I wanted some, but I remembered that you and papa don’t let us eat those things because they would make us sick.  So I said, ‘Lord, help me’; and then I felt so glad and happy, thinking how Jesus loves me.”

“My darling!  He does, indeed,” the mother said, with a gentle kiss.

“And Eddie was good, and said, ’No, thank you; mamma and papa don’t let us eat ‘serves and pie.’”

“Mamma’s dear boy,” and her hand passed softly over the curly head resting on her shoulder.

“Mamma, I love you; I love you so much,” he said, hugging her tight; “and dear papa, too; and Jesus.  Mamma, I wanted to be naughty once to-day when one o’ zese cousins took away my own new whip that papa buyed for me; but I remembered I mustn’t be selfish and cross, and I said my little prayers jus’ in my heart, mamma—­and Jesus did help me to be good.”

“Yes, my dear son, and He will always help you when you ask Him.  And now, what has Vi to tell mamma?”

“Vi naughty girl one time, mamma:  ky ’cause she didn’t want mammy wash face and brush curls.  Vi solly now;” and the golden head dropped upon mamma’s breast.

“Mamma’s dear baby must try and be patient; mamma is sure she will, and Jesus will help her if she asks Him, and forgive her, if she is sorry for being naughty,” the mother said, with a tender caress.  “Now let us sing, ‘Jesus loves me.’”

The child voices blended very sweetly with the mother’s as they sang in concert; then she told them a Bible story, heard each little prayer, saw them laid in their beds, gave each a tender good-night kiss, and left them to their rest.