All There.

A little girl was put into an upper berth in a Pullman for the first time. She kept whimpering until her mother told her not to be afraid because the angels would watch over her.

“Mother, are you there?” she cried, plaintively.

“Yes, dear.”

And a few minutes later, “Daddy, are you there?”

“Yes.”

A fellow passenger lost all patience after so long a time, and bellowed forth: “We are all here. Your daddy and mother and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins. All here; now go to sleep, little one!”

There was a pause, then very softly: “Mother.”

“Well?”

“Was that one of the angels?”

* * *