of
wild beasts," he remarked, rather petulantly, as he gave his chair a
push, upon rising from the table.

"O, George, George." expostulated his father, "I did not think you were
either a selfish or a sullen boy."

"No, father, and he is not," said Maria, approaching her father, and
taking his hand; "but he wants to go very much, and I do not care so
_much_ about it; so he may go, and I will stay at home."

"You are a good girl," said her father; "but I shall not consent to any
such injustice; so go and get ready as quick as possible."

"But, father, I had really a great deal rather that George should go,"
insisted Maria.

"But I cannot think that George would really, on the whole, prefer to
take your place," said Mr. Wilton, turning to George.

"No, sir." replied George, who--restored by this time to a sense of
propriety and justice--was standing ready to speak for himself. "No,
sir; Maria is very kind; but I do not wish to take her place; I am very
sorry indeed that I said any thing about it. I certainly shall not
consent to hike your place, Maria," he said, perceiving that she was
ready to entreat still further.

"O! but I do wish you would," said Maria. But just here her mother
interposed. "If Maria would really prefer to give up her place to her
brother," said Mrs. Wilton, "I certainly shall like the arrangement very
much, for I am to be particularly engaged this afternoon, and, as
Harriet is to be absent, I shall be very glad of some of Maria's
assistance in taking care of the baby."

"O! well," said Maria, brightening up, "then I am sure I will not go: so
run, George, for father is almost ready to start."

Thus the matter was amicably settled. George went with his father, and
Maria remained at home to help take care of little Willy.

Maria loved her little brother very much, and she never seemed tired of
taking care of him, even when he was ever so fretful or restless. She
would leave her play, at any moment, to run and rock the baby, or to
hold him in her lap; for, even if she felt inclined, at any time, to be
a little out of patience for a moment, she would recollect how many
hours she had herself been nursed, by night and by day, and she was glad
of an opportunity to relieve her mother of some of her care and fatigue.
Her cousin, Ellen Weston, called, one afternoon, to ask her to
accompany a party of little girls, who were going to gather berries in
the wood near Maria's house. It happened that Ma