est, when she last
saw him, was a little gentleman in his manners when amy one spoke to
him.

"Mo-_ther_!" came now ringing up the stairs, in a loud, screeching
little voice. "Mo-_ther_! Hen' won't let me come up."

"I declare! That boy is too bad! He's a perfect torment!" said Mrs.
Laurie, fretfully. "I'm out of all heart with him."

The father stepped to the head of the stairs, and spoke rather
sternly to the rebellious Henry. Little feet, were soon heard
pattering up, and the youngest of the young hopefuls made her
appearance, and, soon after, Henry pushed his really repulsive face
into the door and commenced grimacing at the other children, thereby
succeeding in what he desired to do, viz., starting little Maggy,
the youngest, into a whining, fretful cry, because "Hen' was making
faces" at her. This cry, once commenced, was never known to end
without the application of something more decided in its effects
than words. It was in vain that the mother used every persuasive,
diverting and soothing means in her power: the crying, loud enough
to drown all conversation, continued, until, taking the child up
hurriedly in her arms, she bore her into another room, where she
applied some pretty severe silencing measures, which had, however,
the contrary effect to that desired. The child cried on, but louder
than before. For nearly ten minutes, she sought by scolding and
whipping to silence her, but all was in vain. It is doubtful, after
the means used to enforce silence, whether the child could have
stopped if she had tried. At last, the mother locked her in a
closet, and came, with a flushed face and mortified feelings, back
to the room from which she had retired with Maggy.

The moment Mrs. Laurie left, her husband, with a word and a look,
brought the three children into order and quietness. Henry was told,
in a low voice, and in a tone of authority, that he never thought of
questioning, to go up into the garret and remain there until he sent
for him. The boy retired without the slightest hesitation.

When Mrs. Laurie returned, Mr. Fleetwood, who was a man of frank,
free, and pleasant manners, could not resist the temptation he felt
to remind her of the past; he, therefore, said, laughingly,

"You have doubtless found out, by this time, Martha, that old maids'
children are the best."

This sally had just the effect he designed it to have. It was an
apology for the children, as it classed them with other real
childr