rules of what was proper, so they found it impossible to enter into the
child's world, and look at things from his point of view.

One Sunday Rodney took a kitten with him to church. The little pet was
smuggled in beneath his coat. So dearly did he love it that he could
not bear to be parted with it during church time for fear that
something would happen to it. And, besides, he liked to have it with
him, that he might cuddle it during the service, which to him was long
and uninteresting. There would have been no trouble if the kitten had
been content to remain beneath its master's coat. But, alas, when the
organ struck up for the first hymn, it began to wriggle vehemently in
an effort to get its head out to see where the peculiar noise came
from. Rodney tried to keep it back and soothe its fears. But all in
vain, for the kitten suddenly slipped from his grasp, and sprang out
into the aisle. Rodney instantly darted after his pet, and seized it
just as it was about to disappear beneath the pulpit steps.
Triumphantly he carried it back to the seat where Mrs. Royal was
sitting.

To the latter it was only an amusing incident, as she understood the
spirit in which it was done. But to many in the church it was a most
disgraceful thing, and formed a choice topic of conversation for the
rest of the day in various households. They could not, and in truth
did not wish to remember the excellent sermon Parson Dan delivered that
morning. The picture of a little curly-headed boy speeding up the
aisle after the kitten obscured everything else.

It was that very week when Rodney made his next break, which branded
him as a red-handed criminal to several in the parish. The Ladies' Aid
Society was meeting at the rectory on a beautiful afternoon. There was
a good attendance, and the members freely discussed many questions of
vital interest.

The conversation at last drifted off to the training of children. This
was brought about most deftly by Mrs. Harmon, solely for Mrs. Royal's
benefit. Mrs. Harmon had no children, and, as is generally the case,
she considered herself a great authority as to how children should be
managed. There was no half-way measure in her system of training. She
knew, and that ended it.

Mrs. Harmon was ably supported by Miss Arabella Simpkins, a woman of
uncertain age, exceedingly precise, and subject to severe attacks of
"nerves." Her thin lips remained tightly compressed as she listened
for