and tell me what you have been
doing."

"Nay, never mind it, dear husband; John will be very good, I
hope, and we had better say no more about what is past."

"Yes, but I must know," said he, drawing John close to him.
"Come, tell me what has been the matter."

John was a plain-spoken boy, and had a straight-forward way
of speaking the truth. He came up to his father, and looked
full in his face, and said, "The baker came for his money
to-night, and would not leave the loaves without mother paid
for them; and though he was cross and rough to mother, he
said it was not her fault, and that he was sure you had been
drinking away all the money; and when he was gone, mother
cried over her work, but she did not say any thing. I did not
know she was crying, till I saw her tears fall, drop, drop,
on her hands; and then I said bad words, and mother sent me
to stand in the corner."

"And now, John, you may bring me some coal," said Susan;
"there's a fine lump in the coal-box."

"But first tell me what your bad words were, John," said his
father; "not swearing, I hope?"

"No," said John, coloring, but speaking as bluntly as before,
"I said that you were a bad man. I said, bad father."

"And they were bad words, I am sure," said Susan, very
calmly; "but you are forgiven, and so you may get me the
coal."

George looked at the face of his wife, and as he met the
tender gaze of her mild eyes now turned to him, he felt the
tears rise in his own. He rose up, and as he put the money
into his wife's hands, he said, "There are my week's wages.
Come, come, hold out both hands, for you have not got all
yet. Well, now you have every farthing. Keep the whole, and
lay it out to the best advantage, as you always do. I hope
this will be a beginning of better doings on my part, and
happier days on yours; and now put on your bonnet, and I'll
walk with you to pay the baker, and buy a bushel or two of
coal, or any thing else you may be in want of; and when we
come back I'll read a chapter of the Bible to you and the
girls, while you get on with the needle-work."

Susan went up stairs to put on her bonnet and shawl, and she
remained a little longer, to kneel down on the spot where she
had often knelt almost heart-broken in prayer--prayer that
her heavenly Father would tur