Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/349

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FEW days ago my little nephew—a boy who has just attained his fourth birthday—and I were sitting in a room all alone. I had told him previously that all the naughty things he did God saw and wrote down in His big book, and if, when God looked at His big book on the last day, He found his page (Oswald's) covered with black marks of the naughty things he had done, then he couldn't go to heaven. This had served to keep him good a few moments, but soon he forgot and was naughty again. So I at once reminded him of what I had said, and added, "God has put that down in His big book, you know." For a moment his little face clouded over. Then it brightened, and with an eager look in his eyes, he asked, with many inquiring nods of the head, "Has God's pencil got any rubber on it?"

ILDRED, having tired of her little brother, called a neighbor's little girl in to play "dolls" with her.

John, however, persistently sought their company.

"Sister," said he, "can't I play something?"

"Yes, John; go in the back room and play you're dead for an hour and a half." J. T. O.

RANCES, a worthy colored woman, having been forced to leave her brutal husband, often threatened to obtain a "divo'ce."

One day, however, she surprised her mistress with this information:

"Miss Marion, I understan' dat dat hus- ban' o' mine is gwine ter git a divo'ce from me, down in Virginia, an' ef he wants it I'm a-gwine ter let him git it."

"What in the world can he get a divorce from you for?" indignantly asked Miss Marion.

"I dun'no' egzactly, but I heerd for sixteen dollars."