Little Bobby, aged five, saying his prayers, had come to that most
critical of diplomatic crises: the naming of relatives to be blessed.
"Why don't I ask God to bless Aunt Mabel?" he queried, looking up with
a roguish twinkle in his blue eyes.
"But you do, Bobby," answered his mother.
"So I do," was his prompt reply.
Little Willy, aged seven, was asked by his teacher to define the word
"confuse." "'Confuse' is what my daddy says when he looks at his
watch," said Willy. The teacher never asked that question again. At
least, not of Willy.
Little Gertrude, aged three, was saying her prayers. "Is God
everywhere?" she asked.
"Yes, dear, everywhere," answered her mother.
"_Everywhere?_" she persisted.
"Yes, dear, _everywhere,_" repeated her mother, all unsuspecting.
"Then He must be like Uncle Ned," said the little tot.
"Why, Gertrude, what makes you say that?"
"Because I heard Daddy say that Uncle Ned was everywhere," was the
astounding reply.