ilo;" and the dog would wag his tail as much
as to say, "Dear Eddie! you are a good Eddie."

After giving Philo his share, and Kate hers, Eddie carried up a large
dishful to his mother and the children. He did not wish to eat it all
himself for he was a generous boy and always liked to have others
partake of his pleasures, whatever they might be. He reserved some of
the nicest of it in a tumbler, which he placed on his mother's
work-table. Mrs. Dudley took a little, saying to him,

"If you miss your corn, Eddie, you will know what has become of it."

He looked up from his play quite soberly, and said slowly, "Mother, if
_you_ wish to eat more you may, but _I_ am not going to."

"Why not, my child?"

"I am going to save it for father."

Mrs. Dudley was pleased to see Eddie willing to deny himself to give
to others, so she said to him, "That is right." When his father came
home from his business, Eddie placed the tumbler beside his plate on
the tea-table. After the blessing was asked, Mr. Dudley, looking at
the children, inquired, "Where did this come from?" "I popped it,"
answered Eddie. And his father thanked him with a kind and loving
smile.

Eddie was much happier than if he had eaten all the corn himself, for
he had made others happy by his generosity. "It is more blessed to
give than to receive," the Bible tells us; and Eddie had been learning
this truth in the great pleasure he felt in dividing his popped corn
with others. I hope you who read this story know how to sympathize
with him. If you do not, will you try the experiment, and see if you
are not far happier to share your corn, or your candy, or whatever
else you may have, with your brothers and sisters, and those around
you, than you are to devour it yourself? I have seen little chickens
seize their favourite morsel and run away and hide where they could
eat it all alone; but I should be sorry to think that any child would
do so.

"WHICH WOULD YOU RATHER I SHOULD DO?"

"Which would you rather I should do?" asked Eddie of his mother, his
large blue eyes filling with tears.

"I should rather you would stay with me," was the answer.

"Then I will, mother!" and the tears remained where they were, and did
not chase each other down his plump cheeks. A trembling smile played
around his mouth; for he had conquered himself, and had readily
yielded to his mother's wishes. There had been a struggle, severe, but
short, in his mind, and when he said,