"But, Frankie, don't you remember you promised to carry some yarn to poor Nancy? That must be done first."
"But, ma, I didn't know then that the boys were going to the woods. I'll carry the yarn some other day."
"Poor Nancy is dependent on her knitting for her daily bread, my son."
"Can't Edward carry it to her, then?"
"Edward has his drawing lesson."
Frankie began to look red and angry; but presently brightened with the words,—"I'll run to Nancy's right away, if you'll let me. Tony may go with me."
"Have you practised your music, my dear?"
The boy's face grew dark.
"No, ma, I haven't. I hate music, and I wish I never need take another lesson, Mr. Lenox is so cross."
The lady looked grieved. "I can remember," she said, "when a little boy begged his father to allow him to take lessons on the piano; and, when his mother objected on account of the time it would be necessary for him to practise, he exclaimed,—"