One evening the little mother said:  “Here is a sweet little story for the ‘darling kittens’; but first Aunt Fanny requested me to ask Clara to repeat the fourth commandment to the little ones, slowly and distinctly.”

“Yes, mamma,” said Clara, “I will; I know it perfectly.  Gentleman and ladies, come stand in a row before me.”

So the little tots trotted and skipped up to their sister, — who was quite a great girl in their eyes — and after hopping up and down, first on one foot, then on the other, and puckering up their mouths like little bags, to keep all the laugh in tight, they stood almost still.

Then Clara all at once grew grave; for she was about to repeat something out of the Holy Bible, and although this was a great pleasure to her, she did not dream of even smiling.

She began thus, in a clear, distinct voice: 

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.  Six days shalt thou labor and do all thy work; but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God:  in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor the stranger that is within thy gates.  For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day:  wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day, and hallowed it.”

The little ones had listened with great attention, and their mother now said: 

“My darlings, you know it is wrong to work on Sunday.  You see me put all my sewing out of the way on Saturday evenings, and on Sunday I go to church; and when I am home, I either read the Holy Bible or a good book, or talk to you.  You are very little children, but if you saw any one sewing or working on Sunday, what would you say to them?”

“’Member the Sabbath day,” chimed the little ones.

“That’s right! and you too must never forget to ‘keep it holy.’  This little story is about keeping the fourth commandment; and now I will read it: 

“Once upon a time, a pretty little girl was riding in a stage coach, along a country road, with her aunt.  She had been making this aunt a visit, and was now coming home to her kind mother.  It was a pretty long ride, over hill and dale; but Tillie, for that was the little girl’s name, was delighted at first, and laughed every time the stones in the road made the stage give a jump, and a bump, and a rumble, and a tumble.

“But pretty soon she began to get tired, and wanted to jump and tumble herself.  She could not run about in a stage coach — of course not — there was no room; and Tillie’s little feet began to kick, because they could not get any play.

“At last her aunt said, ’Sit still, dear:  look at the ducks, and pigs, and geese all along the road; and see those patient oxen in the field, how they turn one way when the farmer says “Gee,” and the other when he says “Haw."’

“Tillie looked for a moment, and then said, ‘Oh, I so tired.’  Just then she spied a large black and white blanket shawl lying on her aunt’s lap.  She took it, and with great efforts managed to roll it up, and fasten the roll with two large pins she found in it, which had shiny black heads.  Then she made believe that the shawl was a baby; and very soon every one in the stage was laughing at her funny talk.

“‘Oh, my dear baby,’ she said, ’I ’fraid the light hurts your little eyes; please, auntie, lend me your veil.’

“Her aunt smiled, and gave Tillie her brown barege veil; and the little girl spread it tenderly over the top of the shawl, saying, ’There, my baby, don’t cry any more.’

“‘Ai! aï! aï! a — i!’ screamed the baby — that is, Tillie screamed, and pretended it was her — ’aï! aï! a — i!’

“‘What, darling, what is it?’ said Tillie, ’do you want to look out of the window and see the pretty trees?  So you shall, dearest.  There, don’t bump your little head!’ And taking off the brown barege veil, she poked the top of the shawl out of the window; and it had a real nice time staring, and did not cry any more.

“Pretty soon the stage stopped at the gate leading to Tillie’s home.  As her aunt helped the little girl out, the shawl slipped from her hands, and down it fell on the grass.

“‘Oh, my child! my child!’ she exclaimed, ’you have broken your neck! you have broken your neck!  Oh, are you all killed?’ Then she began to shriek softly, as if the baby was crying her eyes out, until she saw her mother standing, smiling, at the door of the house, when she began to laugh, and forgetting all about her poor baby, sprang to her arms, looking very much like a dear little baby herself.

“The next day was Sunday.  Tillie had been taught to keep it holy.  She never wanted to play with her dolls or toys, but liked to go to church with her papa and mamma, and if she did not quite understand all that the good minister said, she always sat very still.  The naughty little girl in the next pew would try her best to make Tillie laugh.  She would tie knots in the corners of her pocket handkerchief, and roll it into the shape of a little fat man, and dance it up and down before her; but Tillie would not laugh.  Then she would twist her face all kinds of ways, run out her tongue, and pretend to be biting the end of it off; but Tillie never so much as smiled.  She had been taught the ten commandments by her loving mother, and she knew just as well as you or I what the fourth commandment was, and how to keep it.

“Well, my little kittens, as I was telling you, it was Sunday — bright, beautiful, but quite cold.

“As they went up stairs after breakfast to dress for church, Tillie’s aunt said, ’I believe I will wear my black and white blanket shawl, it is so very cold.’

“When she came to take the great black-headed pins out and unfold it — for it was still a big round roll of a baby — she found it was all creased, and tumbled, and looked very bad.

“‘Dear me!’ said she to herself, ’I ought to have looked at this last night.  It was very careless in me.’

“She stood thinking a moment, then went down stairs into the kitchen, and put an iron on the fire.  She meant to press out the shawl herself, as the servants might object to ironing on Sunday.

“I am sorry to think that you will know by this that Tillie’s aunt did not think of God’s holy day and His commandment, as she ought to have done.

“Pretty soon the iron was quite hot.  She got out the skirt board, which had been put away in the closet, spread her shawl out smooth, and began to press it back and forth with the hot iron.

“Her back was turned to the open door, and she was so busy over her shawl, that she never heard some tiny little pattering footsteps coming down the stairs; or saw a sweet little child now standing in the doorway.

“It was Tillie, with an expression on her face, half astonishment and half sorrow.

“She looked on for a moment in silence, while the hot iron went back and forth, back and forth.  Then she took two or three steps forward, a strange light came into her eyes, one little hand was raised, and then the voice of a child, sorrowful and earnest, uttered these words:  Six days shall thou labor, and do all that thou hast to do, but the seventh is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God.

“Tillie’s aunt started, and gave a cry as though some one had struck her a violent blow; so awful did this reproof sound from the mouth of a little child.  Back went the skirt board and iron into the closet, and the half-smoothed shawl was taken up stairs in silence.

“What could she say?  She was breaking the fourth commandment; and she wept bitter tears over her great fault; and I am sure, as long as she lives, she will keep the black and white shawl, and remember that God saw fit, out of the mouth of a child, to reprove her for working on His Holy day.”

The little children had listened, without losing a single word; and they understood it all, for Willie exclaimed:  “Oh, what a naughty aunt! but she won’t do so again, will she, mamma?”

“I know a little hymn about Sunday,” said Minnie.

“Well, say it, dear,” said the little mother.

“I want to sing it,” said Minnie.

“So you shall, dear,” answered the mother, “and we will all sing with you.”

The dear child’s eyes sparkled with pleasure at this, and she began with her sweet robin’s note to sing — I am sure every little boy and girl has heard it before —

    “Lord, how delightful ’tis to see,
    A whole assembly worship thee. 
    At once they sing, at once they pray;
    They hear of heaven, and learn the way.

    “I’ve been to church, and love to go,
    ’Tis like a little heaven below;
    Not for my pleasures or my play,
    WOULD I FORGET THE SABBATH DAY.”

All the children joined in singing this hymn, with hearts and voices; and their Heavenly Father heard, and poured his blessing down upon this good and happy family.