ng to their heels, gathered round me with
defiant looks.

"What is the meaning of this?" cried I in anger.

"What is the meaning of your disturbing the neighborhood with your
uproar?" cried one of them, saucily.

"Uproar! We were singing to the praise and glory of God. Do you know
that you have hurt my father?"

"We neither know nor care; and if you don't keep a quiet tongue in your
head, will slit it as soon as not."

"Come in, son, come in," said my father, whose cheek was covered with
blood. "As much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men"--drawing
me indoors as he spoke.

"Excellent advice! Take care that he follows it," cried they,
tauntingly, as my father shut-to the door. I was burning with rage;
Madeleine was in tears; the children, with scared looks, were gathered
round my mother. My father, with gentle force, drew me into the little
circle, and made me sit down beside him.

"My children," said he, "we have been warned that evil times are coming,
and this may be the beginning. If it prove otherwise, we shall have the
more reason to praise the Lord; but if it please Him to try and to prove
us, let us not be found unprepared. Our strength lies in prayer, in not
giving offence, and in not being easily offended."

"We gave no offence, father," said I.

"But you were too easily offended. If any one had cause of complaint, it
was I; but I do not take it up."

My mother was meanwhile bathing his cut cheek and applying a plaster.

"Sure, it would make any son's blood boil, to see his father hit!" cried
I; and I saw that Madeleine sympathized with me.

"Why, then, let his blood cool again," said my father, jocularly. "Tush,
many a school-boy gets a worse hurt than this, and makes no moan. There!
your mother has made all right, and I feel no smart. Let us say no more
about it."

I thought he strikingly acted on our Lord's axiom of "If thine enemy
smite thee on the one cheek, offer him the other," but could not just
then enter into it. I longed to give those rascals a good beating.

"Now, then, I'll set the tune again," said I, affecting composure.

But, "No, no," said the girls simultaneously; and "No, no," said my dear
mother. "Don't you see," she continued, "I have all this broken glass to
pick up? If you will do me a real kindness, you will step round to the
glazier, the first thing in the morning, and get him to mend the window
before breakfast."

"I'll go at once," said I; but "No, no," was