SUNDAY


Albert was a solemn-eyed, spiritual-looking child. "Nurse," he said one

day, leaving his blocks and laying his hand on her knee, "nurse, is this

God's day?"



"No, dear," said the nurse, "this is not Sunday; it is Thursday."



"I'm so sorry," he said, sadly, and went back to his blocks.



The next day and the next in his serious manner he asked the same

question, and the nurse tearfu
ly said to the cook:



"That child is too good for this world."



On Sunday the question was repeated, and the nurse, with a sob in her

voice, said: "Yes, lambie, this is God's day."



"Then where is the funny paper?" he demanded.





TEACHER-"Good little boys do not skate on Sunday, Corky. Don't you think

that is very nice of them?"



CORKY--"Sure t'ing!"



TEACHER--"And why is it nice of them, Corky?"



CORKY--"Aw, it leaves more room on de ice! See?"





Of all the days that's in the week,

I dearly love but one day,

And that's the day that comes betwixt

A Saturday and Monday.



--_Henry Carey_.





O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair,

How welcome to the weary and the old!

Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly care!

Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!



--_Longfellow_.



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