OR,
CONFESSING A FAULT.
“I don’t like James Parker, and I’ll never play with him again as long as I live,” said a little boy, warmly, whose name was Edward Lyon.
His father, hearing the words of his son, called him, and said,
“Edward, my son, what has happened to cause you to speak so unkindly of your little playmate? I thought you liked James very much.”
“So I did, father; but I don’t like him now.”
“Why not?”
“Because he got angry with me to-day, and struck me.”
“Struck you, my son!”
“Yes, indeed! he did so,—but I struck him back for it!”