which his eyes
rested were, "Praise your wife." They rather tended to increase the
disturbance of mind from which he was suffering.

"I should like to find some occasion for praising mine." How quickly
his thoughts expressed the ill-natured sentiment. But his eyes were on
the page before him, and he read on.

"Praise your wife, man, for pity's sake, give her a little
encouragement; it wont hurt her."

Andrew Lee raised his eyes from the paper and muttered, "Oh, yes.
That's all very well. Praise is cheap enough. But praise her for what?
For being sullen, and making your home the most disagreeable place in
the world?" His eyes fell again to the paper.

"She has made your home comfortable, your hearth bright and shining,
your food agreeable; for pity's sake, tell her you thank her, if
nothing more. She don't expect it; it will make her eyes open wider
than they have for ten years; but it will do her good for all that,
and you, too."

It seemed to Andrew as if these sentences were written just for him,
and just for the occasion. It was the complete answer to his question,
"Praise her for what?" and he felt it also as a rebuke. He read no
farther, for thought came too busy, and in a new direction. Memory was
convicting him of injustice toward his wife. She had always made his
home as comfortable as hands could make it, and had he offered the
light return of praise or commendation? Had he ever told her of the
satisfaction he had known, or the comfort experienced? He was not able
to recall the time or the occasion. As he thought thus, Mrs. Lee came
in from the kitchen, and taking her work-basket from the closet,
placed it on the table, and sitting down without speaking, began to
sew. Mr. Lee glanced almost stealthily at the work in her hands, and
saw it was the bosom of a shirt, which she was stitching neatly. He
knew it was for him that she was at work.

"Praise your wife." The words were before the eyes of his mind, and he
could not look away from them. But he was not ready for this yet. He
still felt moody and unforgiving. The expression on his wife's face he
interpreted to mean ill-nature, and with ill-nature he had no
patience. His eyes fell on the newspaper that spread out before him,
and he read the sentence:--

"A kind cheerful word, spoken in a gloomy home, is like the rift in
the cloud that lets the sunshine through."

Lee struggled with himself a while longer. His own ill-nature had to
be conquered first;