But then his own was good enough.
There were three children, two boys with great jaws--the elder rather
older than Annie--and a very little baby. After Mr Bruce had prayed for
the blessing of the Holy Spirit upon their food, they gobbled down
their breakfasts with all noises except articulate ones. When they had
finished--that is, eaten everything up--the Bible was brought; a psalm
was sung, after a fashion not very extraordinary to the ears of Annie,
or, indeed, of any one brought up in Scotland; a chapter was read--it
happened to tell the story of Jacob's speculations in the money-market
of his day and generation; and the _exercise_ concluded with a prayer
of a quarter of an hour, in which the God of Jacob especially was
invoked to bless the Bruces, His servants, in their basket and in their
store, and to prosper the labours of that day in particular. The prayer
would have been longer, but for the click of the latch of the
shop-door, which brought it to a speedier close than one might have
supposed even Mr Bruce's notions of decency would have permitted. And
almost before the _Amen_ was out of his month, he was out of the
kitchen.
When he had served the early customer, he returned, and sitting down,
drew Annie towards him--between his knees, in fact, and addressed her
with great solemnity.
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