But Charlie was more trouble than help, and Nannie began to grow tired. Belle and Jack stood by, looking on and teasing her. Charlie stopped working, and began to defend their workmanship with snowballs, which Jack and Belle were not slow to return. At last, just as Nannie had fashioned a most uncomfortable-looking nose, and had succeeded with great difficulty in inducing it to stay in its right place, Jack's mischievous nature overcame him, and seizing a lump of snow, he threw it straight at the unfortunate nose. This was more than Nannie could bear.
"You naughty, ill-natured boy," she said; "I'll never speak to you again."
"O Nannie, I'm really sorry. I was only in fun;" for Jack, like most boys, thought "only in fun" excuse enough for anything. "Come back, and I'll help you to make it."
Nannie paid no attention to him, but walked off in a very dignified manner. Jack whistled a tune, and walked off in no very pleasant humour, while Belle and Charlie went into the house. Their pleasure was all gone for want of "the soft answer which turneth away wrath."
Nannie came in and sat down by the fire and began to read. She was very much interested in the book she was reading; but, somehow, to-day she did not like it as well as usual. She turned over the leaves, and read a little here and there; but it didn't please her. She got up from her chair, went to the window, and began drumming on the window-pane.
"Be still, Nannie," said her father, who was sitting in the room, reading. She sat down again, and sat looking into the fire.
"I don't care," she thought; "Jack had no business to do it. I think he was very unkind, and I'll do the same to him another time. Yes, I will," she said to herself more determinedly, because there was something within which said, "If thy brother sin against thee, forgive him." Nannie wouldn't listen, but kept cherishing the angry thoughts.
"He may be thankful it wasn't Belle instead of me, for she would have told father of him in a minute. Jack is always teasing me. He spoiled all my card-houses yesterday. Forgiving him then didn't do him any good."
The little voice within whispered, "Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith, Until seventy times seven."
Nannie heard it again, but still wouldn't listen, and went on,—"And the other day he tore my prettiest paper doll, just for fun. I'd like to know how he'd like to have me tear his things 'just for fun.'