There had been one great inconvenience in his imitative propensities; since his early babyhood they had not dared to take him to church. They knew that the whole congregation would be excited to merriment should he have the opportunity to watch the grotesque gestures of the pastor in the pulpit. Eric had already caught them, to a certain extent, when the minister made his visits at the house; but bad must not be suffered to become worse. When he was four years old, however, Olaf resolved that his boy should be cured of a habit which would make him disagreeable, now that he was ceasing to be a child. He, therefore, set himself seriously to work. "Eric, do you know what sort of an animal a monkey is?" he demanded. Eric began eagerly to tell all he knew, which was not a little. "Well, and should you like to have everybody say you were a monkey?" "I don't know," replied Eric, reflectively. "It wouldn't turn me into a monkey to have folks say I was a monkey. And if I really was one, why, then I should have a great long tail, and I could hang to the branches of trees, this way; look, father, I'll show you how!" "Has the boy really no sense of shame?" cried Olaf, angrily. "Leave him to me, I will manage him," said his grandmother. "Do you know, Eric, how nice and pleasant it is to go to church? There are all the good people together praising God. They sing like the angels, so that one actually sheds tears when one hears them. Now, would not you love to go and shed tears at church, listening to such beautiful music?" "I shouldn't want to go there to cry," returned Eric. "I should like to go and sing like an angel, though." "But if we let you go you will not be contented with singing. You will be getting up on the seat, making your arms go like our dear pastor's." "Should I?" said Eric. "But, dear grandmother, couldn't you tie my arms with a string?" "Fie! now you are talking nonsense. And great boys four years old should not talk nonsense." "Yesterday, when I asked for another piece of oaten cake, you said I ate too much for such a little boy," said Eric, thoughtfully. "But it is a long while since yesterday; perhaps I _am_ a great boy now." "Well, well, child; but now suppose we take you to church with us to-morrow, will you behave yourself like a little man, and not fall into any of your tricks?" "I don't know," said Eric, mournfully. "Maybe I should. I never do any tricks on purpose. They come and make me." "Who come and make you?" "The Trolls, and all of them." "Now who has been teaching the child such wicked nonsense?" cried Olaf, starting to his feet. "Oh, mother, I would not have believed this of you!" "Don't be angry with mother, Olaf dear," said Viola, gently. "She can't help believing things she has been taught all her life." Olaf was silent. He felt angry with his mother, and wanted to reproach her. But that must not be in the presence of that keen-eyed child, who would remember every look and tone.