"That is right, my dear boy. If ever you feel inclined to be cruel, think of the sad end of James; think of what the Bible tells you, 'The merciful man regardeth the life of his beast,' and pray God to help you to be merciful. Remember, too, my dear Eddy, that unless you learn to conquer your hasty temper, you will do many things while, in a passion, which you will afterwards regret. Every time you check yourself and control your temper, it will become easier for you to do so, while every time you give way to it, you make it more difficult to reform."
"But, mamma," cried Eddy, "sometimes I'm as pleasant as possible, and cook, or the nurse, worry me, and make me mad. It's not my fault then. I'd be good enough, if I was let alone."
"It is wrong in any one to try to vex you, my child," said his mother; "but that does not excuse you for doing wrong. We must all expect to meet with trials, but we must not give way to them. Ever since your uncle Edward gave you a drum and sword, you have liked to play soldier. Now, I'll tell you a good game, one which the Bible recommends. Call your quick temper, your impatience, and fretfulness, your enemies, and fight them as much as you please. Be too much of a man and a soldier to let your passion gain the victory over you; but fight till you conquer, then you may beat the drum over every successful battle."
Eddy's eyes flashed with a new light. He stood up proudly, gazing first at his mother, then at Susy, and at last exclaimed, "I'll do it!"
[Willie's Grave.]
[CHAPTER I.]
VISIT TO THE GRAVEYARD.
DID you ever go into a graveyard, and walk around among the graves? Did you ever measure whether any of the little mounds were shorter than you?
I am going to tell you a true story about a grave I once saw. It was on a lovely June day, that, in company with some friends, I took the cars to visit a large cemetery in the State of New York. As we were all strangers, we paid a man, whom we found near the gate, to show us the way through the winding paths, to the handsomest parts of the place. As we walked along, on every side of us were splendid monuments marking the spot where some dear father or mother or child had been buried.
Presently I heard the voices of children, and then a sweet, musical laugh. I hurried on to the edge of a lovely lake, and there saw a dear little girl throwing crumbs from her basket to some beautiful white swans that were springing from the water to catch them. Her brother, a year or two older than she, was standing by her side, looking pleased to see her so happy.