I suddenly remembered that some of the animals wouldn't understand and they might eat up all the little children in New York—including me—but I felt I deserved to be eaten up for praying such a thoughtless prayer. I couldn't help thinking it was something of a joke on me, too, and then I got to laughing until I had regular hysterics and Daddy had to give me aromatic ammonia and explain that the efficacy of prayer didn't mean granting prayers like that."
Rebecca looked at Spottswood Taylor intently to see if he had been interested. Her chagrin was intense when she saw him get up from his seat and carry his plate of food into the dining room. He came back for the pitcher of buttermilk. A wicked desire to tease him then took possession of the little girl. Her Grandfather's spirit was asserting itself.
"The giraffe doesn't like to share his drinking hole with the other animals, either, Uncle Spot," she said. "In the movie I saw, when he got ready to drink he went around with his long legs busy kicking all of the smaller animals out of the way. He wanted plenty of room to drink in. I fancy if there had been another drinking hole he would have gone there, but as it was he just had to drink before all the other
