"'Give me that book!' screamed a child, at this moment. Glancing
across the room, I saw two of the little ones contending for
possession of a large family Bible, which lay upon a small table.
Before I could reach them, for I started forward, from an impulse of
the moment, the table was thrown over, the marble top broken, and
the cover torn from the sacred volume."

The face of Mrs. Andrews became instantly of a deep crimson. Not
seeming to notice this, her friend continued.

"As the table fell, it came within an inch of striking another child
on the head, who had seated himself on the floor. Had it done so, a
fractured skull, perhaps instant death, would have been the
consequence."

Mrs. Andrews caught her breath, and grew very pale. The other
continued.

"In the midst of the confusion that followed, the father came home.

"'Where is your mother?' he asked of one of the children.

"'Gone to church,' was replied.

"'O dear!' I can hear his voice now, with its tone of
hopelessness,--'This church-going mania is dreadful. I tell my wife
that it is all wrong. That her best service to God is to bring up
her children in the love of what is good and true,--in filial
obedience and fraternal affection. But it avails not.'