"Are you ready to say your prayers, Lili?" The little girl began, paused,
began again and stopped in the middle. Presently she stammered out,
"Mamma I cannot pray, for God is angry with me."
"What have you done, Lili, to make him angry?"
Lili was silent, and sat pulling at the sheet, for she was naturally
obstinate, and found it hard to own a fault.
"If the good God is not pleased with you, I certainly cannot be. Good
night, my child, sleep well--that is if you can."
"Mamma, do not go away, I will tell you everything; only stay with me."
Her mother gladly turned back.
"We were shooting with the bow, though papa told us not to touch it, and
we hit something and it cried out; and we were so frightened that we could
not be happy any more at all." Lili's voice was hurried, and full of
distress.
"I don't wonder that you could not feel happy, and you cannot yet. Because
of your disobedience, a poor little child is lying suffering in the next
house, perhaps without its mother to comfort it, for it is a stranger
here.
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