“Was that all you told Mrs. Wells, Eddie?” asked his mother, gravely.
“Yes’m,” said Eddie; but a little later she saw him trudging toward Mrs. Wells’s door. “I killed your turkey, I squeezed it so hard. Will you please to forgive me?” said little Eddie.
Mrs. Wells said, “Yes, dear; you didn’t mean to kill it, I know.”
When Eddie came home the sunshine was in his face again. “I told her the whole truth, mamma, and the hurt is gone,” he said, gleefully.
A General Smash-up.
A GENTLEMAN IS FIRST A GENTLE BOY.
There is nothing which will make a man angry so quickly as to be told that he is not a gentleman. But one becomes a true gentleman by beginning early to practice gentle deeds.
On a crowded trolley car going out of Boston, one evening, an old woman was packed in the crowd in the narrow aisle where the standing room was all taken. She was bent with age and was very feeble. Her shabby dress and worn shawl told of her poverty. She carried a large basket, and it seemed to grow heavier and heavier as she changed it from one arm to the other. Seated where this woman was standing sat two persons—one whose tailor-made clothes of expensive fabric showed he was a well-to-do man. The other was a ragged newsboy. Tired from his work, the little fellow’s head now and then dropped on his shoulder and his weary eyelids closed.