"Well, you're not going to read it any more! My children do not read the Bible and they're not so bad. And I've already told you that from now on, you're going to live the same as all the other members of my family, of which you now form a part!" "Oh, uncle, uncle!" implored Paula, "please leave me that Bible! It is the Bible my father gave me on his dying bed! Please let me have it, I pray you, my dear uncle! I will be good, and I will give you everything that I brought here from Villar. But leave me my Bible, please! please! Leave me my Bible!" Paula sobbed, clinging to my father with a desperate courage. Teresa, who had viewed this scene with dismay, did not dare to interfere. She came and went, pretending to arrange things here and there in the room. For my part, I could not comprehend Paula's conduct, not being able to imagine why she should dare so much for her little old black book--I, who would have exchanged all my books for a new doll; but I would have suffered anything to help her now. And so in spite of all Teresa's signs for me to keep quiet and sit down, I took my father by the sleeve and burst into tears saying, "Papa, please give it to her." My father turned and looked at me for an instant. Never had I seen him so angry. His face had become as white as a sheet. Suddenly throwing Paula off, who had been holding on to him on the other side, he raised the Bible over her head and with a thundering voice, he threatened her. "Will you keep quiet?" Paula appeared not to have heard him. "Oh, dear uncle," she implored once more, extending her hands to secure her treasured book, "oh, uncle." In reply all I heard was a dull thud, and I saw Paula fall to the ground. Beside himself, my father had given her a tremendous blow on the head with the Bible. Teresa rushed toward the child and carried her into the kitchen, turning as she did so toward my father "Have a care, sir," she cried, her voice trembling with indignation. "Mark my words, you will repent some day of what you have just done." It appeared to me that my father had already repented. He took his hat without a word and went out, and did not return until the evening. * * * * * "What a shame that Paula isn't a boy," said Louis, as soon as our father had disappeared. "Why?" I asked. "Because she is so brave. Did you notice she stopped crying as soon as father hit her? In her place, you would have been crying yet." "And you? How about yourself?" "Oh, boys wouldn't cry for a little thing like that. I'm surprised, though, that father hit her." "I'm surprised too," said Rosa, "but, of course, she must learn to obey." "I wonder what can be in this Bible of hers to make her love it so," continued Louis. "Any way, what is a Bible? Is it a kind of a prayer-book?"