"For fun!" said I, hanging my head; "just to see how you'd look, father; and that's the truth of it."
My father threw his book fifty feet off, stooped down, and caught me in his arms. "Boy," he said, "you have done wrong; you shall repair it by remembering all your life that your father blessed God for giving him a son who spoke truth in spite of fear."
II
Not long after, Mr. Squills gave me a beautiful large box of dominoes, made of cut ivory. This domino box was my delight. I was never tired of playing at dominoes with my old nurse, and I slept with the box under my pillow.
"Ah!" said my father one day when he found me arranging the ivory pieces in the parlor, "do you like that better than all your playthings?"
"Oh, yes, father!"
"You would be very sorry if mother were to throw that box out of the window and break it, for fun." I looked pleadingly at my father, and made no answer. "But perhaps you would be very glad," he went on, "if suddenly one of those good fairies you read of could change the domino box into a beautiful geranium in a lovely blue-and-white flower-pot. Then you could have the pleasure of putting it on mother's window-sill."
"Indeed I would," said I, half crying.
"My dear boy, I believe you; but good wishes do not mend bad actions; good actions mend bad actions." So saying he shut the door and went out.
"My boy," said he the next day, "I am going to walk to town; will you come? And, by the by, fetch your domino box; I should like to show it to a person there."