"Yes, but it is the 1st of May; and if that is not our Blessed Mother's
day too, I'd like to know what is!" said his sister.

"I don't believe that about the sun shining," continued Larry. "If you
are ten--only two years older than I am,--you don't know everything.
I'm going to ask mother."

The children entered the breakfast room, greeted their father and
mother, and then slipped into their places.

"Mother," began Larry, as he slowly poured the maple syrup over the
crisp, hot pancakes upon his plate, "is it true that the sun always
shines on Saturday in honor of the Blessed Virgin?"

"It is a pious and poetic saying," replied Mrs. Clayton. "But a
legendary sentiment of this kind often hides a deeper meaning. For
those who are devoted to the Blessed Virgin, there is never a day so
dark but that the love of Our Lady shines through the gloom like a
sunbeam, changing to the rosy and golden tints of hope the leaden
clouds that shadowed their happiness; and blessing the closing day of
life, which, to look back upon, seems but as the ending of a week."

Mrs. Clayton had hardly finished speaking, when a long ray of yellow
light fell upon the tablecloth.

"There! the sun's out now, anyway! Crickey, I'm so glad!" exclaimed
Larry.

"The clouds were only blown up by the wind," said his father. "I do