, and looking round to Paul to see if it was all right.

"There, grandpa, you have made a great smut on the hearth," said Mrs.
Parker, who kept her house neat and tidy, though it was a crazy old
affair.

"Well, mother, I thought it would please Paul."

"S-s-s-s-si'c!" Paul made a hiss which Bruno understood, for he went at
Muff more fiercely. It was glorious to see Muff spit fire, and hear her
growl low and deep like distant thunder. Paul would not have Muff hurt
for anything, but he loved to see Bruno show his teeth at her, for she
was gritty when waked up.

"Be still, Paul, and let Muff alone," said Paul's mother.

"Come, Bruno, she ain't worth minding," said Paul.

"They have got good courage, both of 'em," said the Pensioner; "and
courage is one half of the battle, and truth and honor is the other
half. Paul, I want you to remember that. It will be worth more than a
fortune to you. I don't mean that cats and dogs know much about truth
and honor, and I have seen some men who didn't know much more about
those qualities of character than Muff and Bruno; but what I have said,
Paul, is true for all that. They who win success in life are those who
love truth, and who follow what is noble and good. No matter how brave a
man may be, if he hasn't these qualities he won't succeed. He may get
rich, but that won't amount to much. Success, Paul, is to have an
unblemished character,--to be true to ourselves, to our country, and to
God."

He went on with his story, telling how the British troops ran before the
fire of the Yankees,--how they re-formed and came on a second time, and
were repulsed again,--how General Clinton went over from Boston with
reinforcements,--how Charlestown was set on fire,--how the flames leaped
from house to house, and curled round the spire of the church,--how the
red-coats advanced a third time beneath the great black clouds of
smoke,--how the ammunition of the Yankees gave out, and they were
obliged to retreat,--how General Putnam tried to rally them,--how they
escaped across Charlestown Neck, where the cannon-balls from the British
floating batteries raked the ranks! He made it all so plain, that Paul
wished he had been there.

The story completed, Paul climbed the creaking stairway to his narrow
chamber, repeated his evening prayer, and scrambled into bed.

"He is a jolly boy," said the Pensioner to Paul's mother, as Paul left
the room.

"I don't know what will become of him," she replied