u
don't know how. On galloped Neddie, and after having knocked down a
little girl and upset a barrow of fruit, he pitched Charlie over his
head, and having thus got rid of his rider began to enjoy himself on the
grass. Poor Charlie! He had such a bruised face that he was obliged to
stay at home for days.

Miss Smith couldn't take him out like that. It hurt him very much, but
it hurt him more when Father said that such a silly, impatient boy was
not fit to be trusted to ride, and that he must wait a whole year before
he could be allowed to mount a donkey again. "For your own sake,
Charlie, and for other people's."

The little girl he had knocked down was more frightened than hurt; but
Charlie was very sorry, for he was not at all an ill-natured boy; and
when he was at home by himself, while Ethel went for her donkey-rides,
he had plenty of time to think things over, and made a good use of it.
At first he found it very hard to be patient, but after a little while
he found it becoming much easier to wait, and every time he tried it
became easier still.

Next summer, when Father gave him and Ethel the promised donkeys, he
said, "I am proud to trust you now, Charlie, and hope that you will have
some happy times with your Neddie."

And very happy times they had.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

JOHNNIE'S DICTATION.

"There now, dear, run away, and make haste, or you'll be late to school,
and that will never do."

Little Johnnie Strong obediently gathered his books together, and with
an effort to keep back the tears that were filling his eyes, held up his
face for a last kiss.

"Good-by, then, mother dear, and I'll try to be brave and remember what
you've been saying. I'll just do the very best I can, and perhaps I
shall be able to manage it after all."

"That's my brave little man, now; good-by, dearie." And Johnnie was
gone.

Very often Mrs. Strong and Johnnie had little talks at breakfast-time
about his troubles, and he used to say it helped him through the day to
remember his mother's loving words. The conversation with which this
story began was the end of one of these talks. It was getting near
examination time, and Johnnie had been trying very hard to catch up with
the other boys in his spelling and writing. Sums he could manage now
pretty well, and he read very fairly; but it seemed to him he should
_never_ be able to spell properly. "Thousands of words," he wou