One morning, soon after Oscar's visit to Charley, Mrs. Russel was startled by hearing a great noise from the barn-yard; and, rushing to the door, she saw her son chasing the cat among a brood of young chickens, while the poor, frightened hen screeched and ran about trying to protect her little ones under her wings.
Oscar stood laughing at the distress, when his mother screamed out,—
"You good-for-nothing boy! Aren't you ashamed of yourself to act so? Here, kitty, kitty, come away. There, she knows enough to let the chickens alone, if you would behave yourself. Come out of that yard, or I'll start right off and tell Mrs. Monson you're a worse boy than ever."
"No you wont tell her any such thing!" yelled Oscar, his face flaming with passion. "You just mind your own business. The chickens are mine; father gave 'em to me."
Mrs. Russel started forward to strike the boy, who stood defiantly before her; but, suddenly remembering her resolution to command her own temper, she let her hand fall to her side. Without another word she went into the house.
"Whew!" exclaimed Oscar, beginning to come to his senses. "I wonder why she didn't give me a cuff."
He sat down on the step of the barn door. If you had seen him, you would have thought he was counting the pretty yellow chicks, he gazed so intently at them, as they picked up the dough from the board. But he was not. He had forgotten they were before him. The poor boy was thinking about himself; and presently one, two big tears came rolling down his brown cheeks, and he looked very sad.
"I wish she had licked me. How could I forget so soon? I might just as well give up. It's no use for me to try and be good, like Charley. Oh, dear! I wish I hadn't forgot. I wish old Tom had been in the pond, and then I wouldn't have chased her in here. I wonder whether ma will tell of me. If Mrs. Monson knows it, she wont let Charley play with me any more."
All at once he stopped crying, and his face brightened. What do you think made him look pleased?
He remembered something that Mrs. Monson had said, the last time she talked with him. Charley was holding his hand all the time and gazing lovingly in his face. It was this,—