'F she'd only let me 'splain an' tell Just how it was an accident, An' that I never truly meant An' never saw it till it fell. I feel a whole lot worse nor her; I'm sorry; an' I said I were. I s'pose if I'd just cried a lot, An' choked all up like sister does, An' acted sadder than I wuz, An' sobbed about the "naughty spot." She'd said, "He shan't be whipped, he shan't." An kissed me--but, somehow I can't. But I don't think it's fair a bit That when she talks an' talks at you, An' you wait patiently till she's through, An' start to tell your side of it, She says, "Now that'll do my son; I've heard enough, 'fore you've begun." If I should die before I wake-- Maybe I ain't got any soul; Maybe there's only just a hole Where't ought to be--there's such an ache Down there somewhere! She seemed to think That I just loved to spill that ink. Dear Christian mothers, permit me, a very, very old member of your society, to offer this advice. Be on the alert always to give good example to your children. Remember you are teaching them spiritual truths or errors from the day of their birth. You cannot help it, if you would. Your daily conduct tells its own story influencing for or against your beliefs. If you are a consistent Christian, your life before your child is teaching him to believe in the Christ whose example you follow. If you are not practicing what you profess no amount of teaching will bring your children to respect your beliefs. Let us take for our model dear Mater Admirabilis, and as near as possible imitate that divine Mother, making for ourselves a charmed existence by blotting out as far as possible the disagreeables of life; they will come, but they will only grow larger when we remember them, and constant thought of acts of meanness makes us more familiar with them. Obliterate every unworthy thought from your heart and soul, then your children will retain only sweet memories of their mother. CHAPTER VII. THE FIGHT. "What's all the noise about down there?" asked Aunt Lucy. "Dem youngsters is fighten over de puppies, better come down here, Miss Lucy." Bo was screaming, Amy scolding, and Jess barking and whining. Aunt Lucy hurried down stairs to see what could cause such a commotion. When she made her appearance at the head of the cellar stairs Amy was pulling at her brother, and Bo, doubled up, was holding one of the puppies in a tight embrace at the risk of ending its existence. "Stop, immediately!" commanded their aunt. "Children, I am ashamed of you." "Well, that bad boy is tormenting the poor dog." "Put the puppy down, Bo." "Here, Aunty, you stoop down with it, Jess will jump in my face if I go near her nest. I only wanted to love the little thing, and Jess would not have made such a fuss if Amy didn't put her up to it."