The cake was given. Charley cared about as much for the threat as he did for the shaking. He had gained his end.
"I pray daily for patience to bear with my children," said Mrs.
Stanley, on returning to the parlour. "They try us severely."
"That they do," replied Mrs. Noland. "But it is in our power, by firmness, consistency, and kindness, to render our tasks comparatively light."
"Perhaps so. I try to be firm, and consistent, and kind with my children; to exercise toward them constant forbearance; but, after all, it is very hard to know exactly how to govern them."
"Mother, can't I go over into the square?" asked Emma, looking into the parlour just at this time. She was a little girl about eight years old.
"I would rather not have you go, my dear," returned Mrs. Stanley.
"Oh yes, mother, do let me go," urged Emma.
"Ellen can't go with you now; and I do not wish you to go alone."
"I can go well enough, mother."
"Well, run along then, you intolerable little tease, you!"