They caught the trembling little creature at the door, and then they
looked at each other.

"Let's go home," said Bobby.

"Uh huh, let's," said Beth.

They met Beth's mother on the way to church. "We'll stay at home to-day,
mother," said Beth, "we've had just all we can stand."

So they went home and played church in the front yard, until Ethelwyn
and Nan came home just before the sermon.

Those young ladies had fully intended solemnly to lecture the two at
home, but it was very pleasant under the trees, with the birds, and
Bobby and Beth singing lustily, so they joined in, and Ethelwyn then
preached. "I choose to," she said, "because I went to an awfully dry
lecture on art or clothes or something, with mother. I slept some,
'cause it was almost as hard to understand as a sermon, but when I was
awake I heard a good deal that will do you good.

"Clothes," she went on after this introduction, "will ruin your health
if you don't look out, and study statoos and things for some kind of
line, clothes-line, I guess. So when you see a lot of white
statoos--which aren't as interesting as the circus but more good for
learning, which is always the way in this life--learnified things are
likely to be dry--you'll learn something. But I went to sleep before I
found out what or why statoos is the thing to study; but they are so
cold-looking, from being undressed, that I think it would be a kind act
to make pajamas for them, and trousers for our dolls so they will live