occupied with his one daughter just a little cottage while the large
Procter family had the bigger house. Though she dearly loved the little
home, there had been times when it seemed very small for the growing
Procter family.

But she concluded at last that for the present there were many
perplexities which must remain perplexities till that wonderful time
when she would be a woman, and everything made clear to her.
Experiences, too, had shown her that a troublesome question of Monday
often had resolved itself by Wednesday. So she went contentedly on her
way.

On a morning following Suzanna's talk with the Eagle Man, Mrs. Procter
and all the children except the baby who was taking his early morning
nap upstairs, were in the kitchen busy at their tasks, Suzanna polishing
the stove, and Maizie peeling the potatoes for supper, a task Mrs.
Procter insisted upon being performed early in the day. Peter, exempted,
because of his sex, from household duties--and very unfair this
exemption Suzanna thought privately--was trying his awkward best to mend
a baseball. Maizie broke a rather long silence.

"Mother!" she cried, and then waited.

Mrs. Procter looked up from her kneading.

"What is it, Maizie?" she asked.

"Didn't Jesus ever laugh?" asked Maizie.

No one spoke. Maizie, engaged in peeling a large potato, went on quite