THE NEW RUSTIC TABLE.
"Patrick, the eldest boy, who had run on before, joined us just as we came up to the arbour, where a neat round table stood, having curious feet made out of the rough branches of a tree; the top had been polished, and painted with varnish, and looked very splendid indeed. But the quick eyes of Vea soon detected an ugly scar on the bright surface, as if some boy had been attempting to cut out a letter upon it.
"'Oh dear, who has done this?' cried little Vea, while Patrick turned away with blushing face. 'Patrick, this is a wicked action; do you know anything about it? Now be careful; think well before you answer.'
"Uncle John could scarcely keep from smiling at the way Vea spoke, and the anxious manner shown towards her brother. 'O Patrick,' she exclaimed, 'if you did this, it is very wicked; you must go and tell aunt about it at once.'
"Instead of answering, however, Patrick set off at a gallop, and disappeared behind some bushes, leaving Vea standing looking after him with glistening eyes. 'What is to be done now?' she said, as if to herself; 'it is so difficult to get Patrick to own a fault, and I fear he will lead Alfred into more mischief. O mamma, mamma, I wish you had never left us! I do try to keep the boys right, but they are so wild sometimes.'
"'You cannot do more than your best, my child,' said my uncle, laying his hand tenderly on her bowed head. 'Would you like me to speak to your aunt for Patrick?'
"'Oh no, sir, thank you very kindly,' she said, drying her eyes hastily; 'Patrick must confess the fault himself, if he has done it. Aunt Berkley is so good-natured, that I am sure she would excuse him if you asked; but that would not be safe for Patrick,—he forgets so soon, and will be at some other mischief directly. Aunt Mary warned me about this very sort of thing.'
"'Well, I am sure he ought to be a good boy, having such a kind, good little sister to look after him.'
"'Please, sir, don't say that,' said Vea, the tears coming to her eyes again; 'I don't deserve such praise; for the reason why Aunt Mary told me of Patrick's faults was, she wished to point out my own, and she knows I am so lazy, and don't like to check the boys, lest they should call me "Goody;" but Aunt Mary said I ought to look after them,—that a good word costs nothing; at anyrate, if I had only to bear being called a harmless name, it was but a very small cross, compared to the evil I might cause by allowing the boys to play mischievous tricks.'
"'That is right, my dear child,' said Uncle John; 'we must do our duty, however hard it may be; and though a good word in one sense costs nothing, still we all know it sometimes costs a good deal, and is a difficult matter, to a great many people.'