The wife of a respected Dundee physician relates the following amusing anecdote of her youngest - a bright little fellow of four - whose quaint questions and remarks had often provoked the mirth of his parents: - One day he had a quarrel with one of his brothers. On kneeling down by the chair of his mother, as was his wont, to say his prayers, he repeated them in tones that told he had not forgotten his recent trouble. He commenced to pray for the different members of his family individually - "God bless dear papa, dear mamma, and dear Charley," when suddenly he stopped short, as if overcome by emotion.
"No," he sobbed, indignantly, "I won't pray for Petey."
"Oh fie, Johnny," remarked his mother. "If Petey's a bad boy, you've the more need to pray for him."
The youthful Christian was silent for a moment after this reproof; then, after a brief mental struggle, exclaimed -
"Very well, I'll be good. I'll pray for him. God bless bad Petey, and make him a good boy."
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