ck."

"Did you then do nothing to revenge yourselves?" asked their mother.

"Frank had such a revenge as you would approve of," said Harry.

"One of the examiners asked John where Athens was. The poor fellow
could not tell, for he is a real dunce, though we did not chalk the
word on his back. Well, he was just going to say that he did not
know, when Frank whispered the answer very softly into his ear, and
saved him from being disgraced. I did want, just then, to write
dunce on John's back; but, on the whole, I pitied him, and, when I
heard him, after the examination, thank Frank, and say, "I am sorry
for what I did the other day," I did feel that it was better to
overcome evil with good, though it comes hard, Mother, sometimes."

"Very true," said Mrs. Chilton; "to do right is not always easy. At
first, it is perhaps always hard, but it grows easier and easier,
the more we try; till, at last, that which was painful becomes
pleasant. Some good person, I forget who, said, "Whenever I want to
get over a dislike of any person, I always try to find an
opportunity to do him a service." Tell me, Frank, if you do not feel
more kindly towards John Green, since you did him that kindness."

"I suppose I do," said Prank. "My anger is gone, at any rate."

"We don't want candles yet, do we, Mother," said Harry. "There is
the moon just over the old pine tree, and there is a bright little
star waiting upon her. Now is our story time. Can you not make up
something to tell us?"

"I cannot think of any thing," said Mrs. Chilton. "I believe I spun
all the cobwebs out of my brain when I told you about the old
garret."

"Did you not say to us, the other day, Mother," said Frank, "that,
when you were at uncle John's many years ago, before we were born,
you wrote down some stories? I think you told aunt Susan that you
meant, when we were old enough, to read them to us."

"I did, Frank, and when the light comes, I will read some of them.
Meantime, I will tell you one or two little anecdotes. I was dining
yesterday with a gentleman who told me this story. He was returning
from England to Boston in one of the fine royal steamers. When not
very far from the end of the voyage, he and some other gentlemen
determined to indulge themselves with the pleasure of giving a
dinner as good as they had every day to the sailors. I suppose you
know that in these steamers the passengers pay a large price for the
passage, and are feasted every day wit