She was giving them their daily Bible lesson, and she held up her small brown hand as a signal to Phebe to keep silence, and to wait a moment until the lesson was ended.
"And so," she said, "those who know the will of God, and do not keep it, will be beaten with many stripes.

Remember that, my little Felix." "I shall always try to do it," answered the boy solemnly.

"I'm nine years old to-day; and when I'm a man I'm going to be a pastor, like your father, grandmamma; my great-grandfather, you know, in the Jura.
Tell us how he used to go about the snow mountains seeing his poor people, and how he met with wolves sometimes, and was never frightened." "Ah! my little children," she answered, "you have had a good father, and a good grandfather, and a good great-grandfather.

How very good you ought to be." "We will," cried both the children, clinging round her as she rose from her chair, until they caught sight of Phebe standing in the doorway.
Then with cries of delight they flew to her, and threw themselves upon her with almost rough caresses, as if they knew she could well bear it.
She received them with merry laughter, and knelt down that their arms might be thrown more easily round her neck.
"See," she said, "I was up so early, while you were all in bed, finding May-roses for you, with the May-dew on them.

And if your father and mother will let us go, I'll take you up the river to the osier island; or you shall ride my Ruby, and we'll go off a long, long way into the country, us three, and have dinner in a new place, where you have never been.