th Lewie now."

"Sister will stay a little while," said Agnes, kissing over and over
again her beautiful little brother.

"No, sister _stay_!--sister shall not go!" said Lewie, in the best
manner in which he could express it; but exactly _how_, we must be
excused from making known to the reader, having a great horror of
_baby-talk_ in books.

"But I _must_ go, darling; all my things are at uncle's, and I want to
get some books cousin Emily is going to give me; but I will come back
very soon to stay with Lewie."

"No! sister _shall_ not go!" was still the cry; and Mrs. Elwyn settled
the matter by saying:

"Agnes, if Lewie wants you here so much, you may as well take off your
things; you cannot return to Brook Farm; besides, I want you to amuse
Lewie." Agnes thought of some of the consequences of her endeavors to
amuse Lewie, and sighed.

"If your mother insists upon your remaining, Agnes," said her uncle, "I
will bring over your things, and Emily shall come with me, to bring the
books, and tell you how to study."

"Oh, thank you, dear uncle!" said Agnes, her face brightening at once.

In the first scene in which our little hero is introduced to the reader,
he certainly does not appear to advantage, as few persons would in the
first stages of a fever. He was not always so hard to please, or so
recklessly destructive, as he was that day; and had an intimation ever
been conveyed to his mind, that it was a possible thing for any desire
of his to remain ungratified, he might have grown up less supremely
selfish than he did.

But the natural selfishness of his nature being constantly fed and
ministered to by his doating mother, led the little fellow to understand
very early that no wish of his was to be denied; and before he was two
years old, he fully understood the power he held in his hands.

He was a beautiful boy; "as handsome as a picture," as Mammy said; but,
for my part, I have seldom seen a picture of a child that could at all
compare with Lewie Elwyn, with his golden curls, and deep blue eyes, and
brilliant color. He was warm-hearted and affectionate, too, and might
have been moulded by the hand of love into a glorious character. But
selfishness is a deformity which early attention and care may remedy,
and the grace of God alone may completely subdue; but, if allowed to
take its own course, or worse, if encouraged and nurtured, it grows with
wonderful rapidity, and makes a horrid shape of what might be th