mend bad actions: good actions mend bad actions." So saying, he shut the door, and went out. I can not tell you how puzzled I was to make out what my father meant by his aphorism. But I know that I played at dominoes no more that day. 5.- THE BROKEN FLOWER-POT. bur'y-ing [berry-ing], hiding. com-men-da'ti-ons, praise. lib'er-al, free, outspoken. lin'gered [lin'gerd], stopped. PART II. nurs'er-y-man, a flower-gardener. pro-duced' [-dust'], showed. 1. THE next morning my father found me seated by myself under a tree in the garden. He paused, and looked at me with his grave bright eyes very steadily. 66 My boy," said he, "I am going to walk to Fairworth ; will you come? And, by the by, bring your dominobox: I should like to show it to a person there." I ran in for the box; and, not a little proud of walking with my father on the high-road, we set out. 2. "Papa," said I by the way, "there are no fairies now." "What then, my child?" 66 Why, how, then, can my domino-box be changed into a geranium and a blue-and-white flower-pot?" "My dear," said my father, leaning his hand on my shoulder, "everybody who is in earnest to be good carries two fairies about with him, one here," and he touched my forehead, "and one here," and he touched my heart. "I can wait till you do, Sisty." 3. My father stopped at a nursery-man's, and, after looking over the flowers, paused before a large double geranium. "Ah, this is finer than that which your mamma was so fond of. What is the price of this, sir?" "Only seven and sixpence," said the gardener. My father buttoned up his pocket. "I can't afford it to-day," said he gently, and we walked out. 4. On entering the town, we stopped again at a chinawarehouse. "Have you a flower-pot like that I bought some months ago? Ah, here is one, marked three and sixpence. Yes, that is the price. Well, when your mamma's birthday comes again, we must buy her another. That is some months to wait; and we can wait, my boy for truth that blooms all the year round. is better than a poor geranium, and a word that is never broken is better than a piece of delf.” 5. My head, which had been drooping before, rose again; but the rush of joy at my heart almost stifled me. "I have called to pay your little bill," said my father, entering the shop of one of those fancy stationers common in country-towns, and who sell all kinds. of pretty toys and knickknacks. "And, by the way," he added, as the smiling shopman looked over his books for the amount, "I think my little boy here can show you a much handsomer specimen of French workmanship than that work-box which Mrs. Caxton raffled for last winter. Show your domino-box, my dear." 6. I produced my treasure, and the shopman was liberal in his commendations. "It is always well, my boy, to know what a thing is worth, in case one wishes to part with it. If my son gets tired of his plaything, what will you give him for it?" "Why, sir," said the shopman, "I fear we could not afford to give more than eighteen shillings for it, unless the young gentleman took some of those pretty things in exchange." 66 Eighteen shillings!" said my father; "you would give that? Well, my boy, whenever you do grow tired of your box, you have my leave to sell it." 7. My father paid his bill, and went out. I lingered behind a few moments, and joined him at the end of the street. "Papa, papa!" I cried, clapping my hands, "we can buy the geranium; we can buy the flower-pot." And I pulled a handful of silver from my pocket. "Did I not say right?" said my father. "You have found the two fairies!" 8. Ah! how proud, how overjoyed I was, when, after placing vase and flower on the window-sill, I plucked my mother by the gown, and made her follow me to the spot! "It is his doing and his money," said my father. "Good actions have mended the bad.” all "What!" cried my mother, when she had learned ; "and your poor domino-box that you were so fond of! We will return to-morrow, and buy it back, if it costs us double." 9. "Shall we buy it back, Sisty?" asked my father. 66 Oh, no, no, no! it would spoil all,” I cried, burying my face on my father's breast. |