"You're an ugly boy," cried his sister. "Anna and I were having a real nice time, when you came in—and spoiled it all. Mother says she wishes you would govern your temper."
Walter got up, and was walking angrily out of the room, when he met his mother. She saw at once that there had been trouble, and, taking him gently by the hand, requested him to return. With a few judicious words, she soon succeeded in quieting the ruffled waves, and in fifteen minutes the children were sitting lovingly together—the boy with his arm thrown around his cousin's neck, and reading from the same page.
In the evening, when they had seated themselves for their favorite exercise, Mrs. Dermott asked, "Helen, can you tell me, my dear, where was the first quarrel?"
The little girl arched her eyebrows and shook her head.
"It was in the garden of Eden, my child, immediately after the first pair had partaken of the forbidden fruit."
Helen's face was crimson, and she quickly replied, "I didn't begin the quarrel, mother."
"Well, you called me names," replied Walter, looking very much ashamed.
"Stop at once!" exclaimed Mr. Dermott. "Or we will discontinue the lesson."
"Do you understand, Anna," inquired Mrs. Dermott, "what is meant by the fall?"
"No, aunt, not exactly."