"Good things in their way," remarked his father.
"But this one wasn't a good one, though he thought himself so. And the worst of it all was that he insisted upon writing an ode to Time. Before the day was over I almost wished that you, my dear father, had never existed."
"I know the man you mean," said Father Time, gravely; "he lives in every town on the globe, and is the greatest time-waster on record. You look thin with the fatigue.—Why, why, what is this?"
A beautiful child stepped up before Father Time, and smiled in answer to his exclamation.
"Don't you know me, papa?"
"Are you—is it possible—can you be one of my children? What has happened to make you so lovely?"
"I have been improved," was the answer. "I have never had a happier day in all my life."
Her brothers and sisters looked up in amazement.
"Yes, I think I am the only one of us all who has been fortunate to-day. I went into the house of the dearest child in all the world. Why, the first thing that she did was to kiss and pet me, and say, 'Dear Time, let us see how we can help each other to-day.' From the moment I came until the moment I left she never faltered. In the first place, she studied her lessons with great diligence—"
"Ah!" said Father Time, "that is what makes your eyes shine so brightly."