THE TWILIGHT GUESTS
"Where are you going to-night?" said the old man, quietly, yet his voice trembled.
"I'm going to sing to Rachel's grandfather. He's blind, you know."
"Yes," said the old man, "and old. His hair is white. He walks with a cane. But he loves the singing."
"Then to-morrow I must go to church," said the boy. "The minister talks and prays and I get so sleepy. But mother keeps a peppermint for me, just before the second hymn. Then I have it for the long prayer. And I can sing the hymns. Rachel never looks at me she sits so still in church. And she won't play on Sunday. I can have my whip and two of the largest marbles. Do you think that is wrong?"
"No," said the old man, "I don't think that is wrong."
"And we have gingerbread on the porch in the afternoon," said the boy, "and Rachel comes. Mother says children must not be vexed at the Lord's Day."
"Yes," said the old man, "mother is so good to
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