“There is a great deal of sense in what he has said,” thought Mark, as he turned in the direction of Anne’s cottage to tell her of his new engagement. “‘Keep the commandments, work hard, and steer clear of the gin-shop, and you’ll be sure of heaven at the last!’ These are very plain directions any way, and I’m resolved to follow them from this hour. Some of my difficulties seem clearing away; by watching the sheep all the day long I shall be kept from a good many of my temptations. I shall have less of the company of my brothers, I shall earn my bread in an honest way, and yet have plenty of time for thought. ‘Keep the commandments,’ let me think what they are;” and he went over the ten in his mind, as he learned them from his Bible. “I think that I may manage to keep them pretty strictly, but there are words in the Word of God which will come to my thoughts. _A new commandment I give you, that ye love one another_: and, _He that hateth his brother is a murderer_;—how can I love those who dislike me?—’tis impossible; I don’t believe that any one could.” The first thing that met the eyes of Mark on his entering the cottage put all his good resolutions to flight. Jack and Ben were seated on the brick floor, busy in patching up a small broken box, and as they wanted something to cut up for a lid, they had torn off the cover from his beautiful Bible, and thrown the book itself under the table! Mark darted forward with an oath—alas! his lips had been too long accustomed to such language for the habit of using it to be easily broken, though he never swore except when taken by surprise, as in this instance. He snatched up first the cover, and then the book, and with fiery indignation flashing in his eyes, exclaimed, “I’ll teach you how to treat my Bible so!” “_Your_ Bible!” exclaimed Ben, with a mocking laugh; “Mark thinks it no harm to steal a good book, but it’s desperate wicked to pull off its cover!” “Oh, that’s what the parson was teaching him!” cried Jack. Provoked beyond endurance, Mark struck him. “So it’s that you’re after!” exclaimed Jack, springing up like a wild cat, and repaying the blow with interest. He was but little younger than Mark, and of much stronger make, therefore at least his match in a struggle. The boys were at once engaged in fierce fight, while Ben sat looking on at the unholy strife, laughing, and shouting, and clapping his hands, and hallooing to Jack to “give it him!” “What are you about there, you bad boys?” exclaimed Ann, running from the inner room at the noise of the scuffle. Jack had always been her favourite son, and without waiting to know who had the right in the dispute, she grasped Mark by the hair, threw him violently back, and, giving him a blow with her clenched hand, cried, “Get away with you, sneaking coward that you are, to fight a boy younger than yourself!” “You always take his part, but he’ll live to be your torment yet!” exclaimed Mark, forgetting all else in the blind fury of his passion.