profound question.

Among the larger children, over on the right, there was a general
waving of hands, and whispering and tittering; but the eight small
beginners held their mouths shut tight and not a sound came from
them. Glory Goldie was as mum as the rest.

"There is a prayer which we repeat every day," said the teacher.
"What do we call God there?"

Now Glory Goldie had it! She knew the teacher wanted them to say
they called God _Father_--and raised her hand.

"What do we call God, Glory Goldie?" he asked.

Glory Goldie jumped to her feet, her cheeks aflame, her little
yellow pigtail of a braid pointing straight out from her neck.

"We call him Jan," she answered in a high, penetrating voice.

Immediately a laugh went up from all parts of the room. The gentry,
the School Board, parents and children all chuckled. Even the
schoolmaster appeared to be amused.

Glory Goldie went red as a beet and her eyes filled up. The teacher
rapped on the floor with the end of his pointer and shouted
"Silence!" Whereupon he said a few words to explain the matter.

"It was _Father_ Glory Goldie wanted to say, of course, but said
Jan instead because her own father's name is Jan. We can't wonder