“’Tain’t review Sunday, teacher.”

Teacher decided to ignore this.  “Very well,” she said.  “We will now have the Golden Text for today.  Who will say it first?  I will give you a start—­’As Moses—­’”

“As Moses,” piped a chorus of small voices.

“Lifted up,” prompted Desire.

“Lifted up,” shrilled the chorus.

“Yes?” expectantly.

The chorus was silent.

“Well, children, go on.”

But nobody went on.

“You don’t know it,” declared Desire with mild severity.  “Very well.  Learn it for next Sunday.  Now I am going to ask you some questions.  First of all—­who was Moses?”

She asked the question generally but her eye fell upon the one male member who swallowed his Sunday gum-drop with a gulp.

“Don’t know his nother name,” said the male member sulkily.

Desire realized that she didn’t know, either.  “I did not ask you to tell his name but something about him.  Where he lived, for instance.  Where did Moses live?” Her eye swept down to the mite at the end of the row.

“Bulrushes!” said that infant gaspingly.

“He was hidden among bulrushes,” explained Desire, “but he couldn’t exactly live there.  Does anyone know what a bulrush is?”

The row exchanged glances and nudged each other.

“Things you soak in coal-oil,” began one.

“To make torches at ’lections,” added another.

“Same as cat-tails,” volunteered a third condescendingly.

“Well, even if they were anything like that, he couldn’t live in them, could he?” Desire felt that she had made a point at last.

“Could if he was a frog,” offered the male member after consideration.

To Desire’s surprise the row accepted this seriously.

“But as he was a baby and not a frog,” she went on hurriedly, “he must have lived with his mother in a house.  The name of the country they lived in was Egypt.  And Egypt had a wicked King.  This wicked King ordered all the little boy babies—­” She paused, appalled at the thought of telling these infants of that long-past ruthlessness.  But, again to her surprise, the infants now showed pleasurable interest.  An excited murmur rose.

“I like that part!” . . .  “Why didn’t he kill the girl babies, too?” . . .  “Did he cut their heads right off?” . . .  “Did their mothers holler?” . . .  While the male member offered with an air of authority, “I ’spect he just wrung their necks.”

“Well, well!  Getting along nicely, I see,” said the assistant, tiptoeing down the aisle.  “I felt sure you would interest them, Mrs. Spence.  You will find our children very intelligent.”

“Very,” agreed Desire.

“They all know the Golden Text, I am sure,” he continued with that delightful manner which children dumbly hate.  “Annie, you may begin.”

But Annie refused to avail herself of this privilege.  Instead she showed symptoms of tears.