“O, Mother, you are so very kind and I am so very hasty,” exclaimed Hatty; “I will not forget to do as you say, for indeed I need it. You will have to be very patient with me, Mother, for I am afraid I shall have hard work to keep my resolutions.” “Trust in God for help to struggle against your faults, and in the end you will conquer,” said the mother, with an affectionate kiss, and then she left her little daughter alone. Hatty had led an easy, quiet life with her grandmother for the last three months, and had had but little temptation to give way to her hasty temper. Now she began to realize that it would be quite another thing, where at almost every moment she was called on to give up her own will and pleasure for that of others; but she was not disheartened. God has promised to give his strength to those who really wish to serve Him, and on this promise little Hatty relied. In her closet she knelt and asked the blessing of Heaven on her poor efforts, and she rose cheerful and happy. III. When Hatty had arranged her clothes once more neatly in her own room, she began to wonder what had become of Marcus, and she concluded to go in search of him; she met him in the hall. He seemed much excited, and said, “O Hatty, what beautiful bantams! I have put them in a barrel, and carried all the packages grandma sent, to the kitchen, and now I want to know where we shall keep them?” Hatty was not quite pleased that Marcus should take the bantams so immediately under his protection, though she had brought them as a present to him. She checked the feeling of annoyance, and said pleasantly, “They are yours, Marcus, so you can plan for them as you think best; but perhaps you could manage to make a coop, as you do not go to school to-day.” Marcus was delighted with the presents, and resolved to set to work immediately to get the pets into comfortable quarters before Sunday. Hatty put on her sun-bonnet, and they both were soon very busy in the yard, planning for the chicken coop with as much interest as if they were going to build some wonderful specimen of architecture which all the world would admire. Marcus found in the wood-house a large packing box, and after much hammering he succeeded in knocking out one side, so the chickens could have their feet on the ground in their new home. “Chickens are like the Irishman who liked a mud floor that would never wear out, and never need washing,” said Marcus, with the air of one who was instructing some ignorant person. “Yes, grandma has all her coops made that way,” said Hatty, who was well pleased to show that she understood the subject. Marcus now selected a board of the right length, and had just begun to split it up into slabs for the front of the coop, when he heard Aunt Barbara’s bed-room window go up. Marcus did not raise his eyes, but he could not stop his ears, and he had to hear the shrill tone that called out, “Stop! stop! Marcus Lee!”