tion to go in was
altogether too powerful for Fred to withstand, and, especially as others
had never pronounced the little monosyllable no, to him, he had no mind
to begin by saying it to himself. So in he went, and almost the first
thing he saw was mother's looking-glass, hanging over the table between
the two front windows. As he went towards it he saw a little boy, who
seemed to be peering and staring at him from between the windows. He had
no idea it was himself he saw, never having seen the looking-glass
before, nor his own reflected image. You may be sure he looked right
earnestly upon the strange child. If he stepped forward, so did the boy;
if he turned away, and then looked cautiously back to watch the boy,
there he was, looking at him in a very sly manner. Freddy, enraged at
this, rushed out for a stone, and, bringing it in, hurled it at the
looking-glass. But it was all in vain, for, even after the glass
rattled down and strewed the floor with its many pieces, that impudent
boy peeped at him from every bit of glass in which he looked.

When my mother came home, and went to put away her bonnet in the great
room, as usual, she found her beautiful looking-glass lying on the
floor, broken into a hundred pieces. When she came out, and demanded of
us what it meant, Fred told her of a little boy he saw behind it, at
whom he was offended and hurled a stone, but that still the boy looked
at him from the pieces of glass and made him very angry.

Then mother laughed when she heard Fred's story, and, catching him up in
her arms, kissed him again and again. She forgot to chide him for his
disobedience in going where he had been forbidden to go, and for his
foolish anger at the supposed boy. She was so much amused at his version
of the story, that she did not explain to him what the boy was, and how
the looking-glass reflected figures before it, but he was left to find
that out by his experience afterwards.

If my brother, long before that, had learned lessons of love and
forbearance, this circumstance, slight as it may seem, would never have
occurred. Instead of the threatening and distrustful look in the mirror,
he would have found a laughing face, and a tiny, loving hand would have
been given him. O, my dear children, this story has a higher meaning
than I thought of when I commenced! In the feelings of those whom we
approach we see the reflection of our own; if we approach any one with
love, it is given to us from th