For a time, pride and shame struggled in the breast of Edward, but at length he made up his mind to do as his father had proposed. He not only saw clearly that he had been wrong, but he also felt that he had been wrong. James Parker lived only a little way from his father’s house, and thither he at length turned his steps, though with reluctance, for he did not know how James would receive him.
As he came into the yard of the house where James’ father lived, he saw his little playmate seated quietly in the door, with his face turned away, so that he did not notice him, nor seem to hear the sound of his footsteps, until he was close to him. Then he turned quickly, and Edward saw that he had been weeping.
“James,” he said, holding out his hand, “I am sorry that I knocked your house down—but I didn’t mean to do it. And I am more sorry still that I struck you.”
“And I have been so sorry that I struck you, that I have cried ever since,” James said, taking the offered hand of his young friend. “I might have known that you did not mean to knock my house down when you threw the stone,—that it was an accident. But I was so angry that I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m so glad you have come. I wanted to see you so bad, and tell you how sorry I was; but was afraid you would not forgive me for having struck you.”
From that day Edward and James were firmer friends than ever. Each forgave the other heartily, and each blamed himself to the full extent of his error. And besides, each learned to guard against the sudden impulse of angry feelings, that so often sever friends, both young and old.
TO MY GOOD ANGEL.
Hail, protecting spirit, hail!
Guardian of my being here;
Though my faltering footsteps fail,
And I sink in doubt and fear,
Still to cheer me
Thou art near me,
All unseen by mortal eye,—
All unheard by mortal ear;
Thou, a spirit of the sky,
Dost protect and guide me here.