“Yes,” said he.
“And did you have a good dinner?”
“Yes; and a noble great fire,” said Caleb.
“You little rogue, then!” said Mary Anna, laughing, and stabbing at his sides with her finger; “here you have been having a beautiful time in the woods, amusing yourself all day, and had every thing to please you; and now you come to me to pay you for not having been impatient and fretful! You little rogue!”
Caleb turned, and ran laughing away, Mary Anna after him, and pointing at him with her finger. Caleb made his escape into the front entry, and hid behind the door. Mary Anna pretended to have lost sight of him, and not to know where he was; and she went about, saying,
“Where is that little rogue? He came to get away one of my picture-books for nothing. He wanted to be paid for bearing happiness patiently. The rogue! I'll pinch him if I can only find him.”
So saying, Mary Anna went and sat down to supper, and soon after Caleb came and took his seat too; Mary Anna roguishly shaking her finger at him all the time. He had to hold his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing aloud.
Perhaps some of the readers of this book may smile at Caleb's idea of his merit in having been a pleasant boy all day, when he felt vexed and unsubmissive in the only case which brought him any trial; but it is so with almost all children, and some grown persons too. A great deal of the goodness upon which we all pride ourselves, is only the quiescence of bad propensities in the absence of temptation and trial.