"
"What good are they then?" said Rosy.
"Oh, I know what I mean, but it's very hard to say it," said poor Bee.
"Saying our prayers is like opening the gate into being good; it gives
us a sort of feeling that _He_, you know, Rosy, that God is
smiling at us all day, and makes us remember that He's _always_
ready to help us."
"_Is_ He?" said Rosy. "Well, I suppose there's something worser
about me than other peoples, for I've often said, 'Do make me good, do
make me good, quick, quick,' and I didn't get good."
"Because you pushed it away, Rosy. You're always saying you're not
good and you don't care. But I think you _do_ care, only," with a
sigh, "I know one has to try a great, great lot."
"Yes, and I don't like the bother," said Rosy, coolly.
"There, now you've said it," said Bee. "Then that shows it isn't that
you can't be good but you don't like to have to try so much. But
please, Rosy, don't say you'll leave off. _Do_ go on. It will get
easier. I know it will. It's like skipping and learning to play on the
piano and lots of things. Every time we try makes it a little easier
for the next time."
"I never thought of that," said Rosy, with interest in her tone.
"Well, I'll think about it any way, and I'll tell you in the morning
what I've settled. Perhaps I'll fix just to be naughty again
to-morrow, for a rest you know. How would it do, I wonder, if I was to
be good and naughty in turns? I could settle the days, and then the
naughty ones you could keep out of my way.
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