Thomas Kinkade Footprints in the sand painting

Thomas Kinkade Footprints in the sand paintingThomas Kinkade Christmas Cottage paintingThomas Kinkade almost heaven painting
Say, ‘Sir,’ or ‘I beg your pardon, Father.’ ”
“Sir?” Rufus said.
“You,” Father Jackson said to Catherine.
“Sir?” Catherine said.
“You must not stare at people—look at them, as you are looking at me.”
“Oh,” Rufus said. Catherine’s face turned red.
“Say, ‘Excuse me, Father.’ ”
“Excuse me, Father.”
“You,” Father Jackson said to Catherine.
Catherine became still redder.
“Excuse me, Father,” Rufus whispered.
“No prompting, please,” Father Jackson broke in, in a voice pitched for a large class. “Come now, little girl, it is never too soon to learn to be little ladies and little gentlemen, is it?”
Catherine said nothing.
“Is it?” Father Jackson asked Rufus.
“I don’t know,” Rufus replied.
“I consider that a thoroughly uncivil answer to a civil question,” said Father Jackson.
“Yes,” Rufus said, beginning to turn cold in the pit of his