"There's nothing said about the dull, uneventful days that come between;
if the author should write only about the dull days no one would read the
book."
"It wouldn't be like life, either," said Marjorie, quickly, "for
something does happen, sometimes nothing has happened yet to me, though.
But I suppose something will, some day."
"Then if I should write about your thirteen years the charm would have to
be all in the telling."
"Like Hector in the Garden," said Marjorie, brightly. "How I do love
that. And he was only nine years old."
"But how far we've gotten away from punctuation!"
Next to prayer children were Miss Prudence's most perfect rest. They were
so utterly unconscious of what she was going through. It seemed to Miss
Prudence as if she were always going through and never getting through.
"Are you fully satisfied that punctuation has its work in the world?"
"Yes, ever so fully. I should never get along in the Bible without it."
"That reminds me; run upstairs and bring me my Bible and I'll show you
something.
"And, then, after that will you show me the good of remembering _dates_.
They are so hard to remember. And I can't see the good. Do you suppose
you _could_ make it as interesting as punctuation?"
"I might try. The idea of a little girl who finds punctuation so
interesting having to resort to castle-building to make life worth
living," laughed Miss Prudence.
"Mother said to-day that she was afraid I was growing deaf, for she spoke
three times before I answered; I was away off somewhere imagining I had a
hundred dollars to spend, so she went down cellar for the butter
herself.
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