family, so neatly raked, so free from stones or weeds, so gay with
flowers of the best kind. They were rival gardens, but undoubtedly
White's was in the best order. John and Fred always went home on a
Saturday, as Mr. Barton's house was not far from L----. Joe was a
boarder entirely, his home was at a distance, and to this Fred Parker
ascribed the superiority of his garden. He was able to devote the whole
of Saturday, which was a holiday, to its culture. Well, the donkey of
which I spoke, one day took a special fancy to the boys' gardens; and it
so happened, that he was beginning to apply himself to nibble the tops
of Joe's dahlias, which were just budding. Joe was that day confined to
the house with a severe cold, and little did he think as he lay in bed,
sipping Mrs. Barton's gruel and tea, of the scenes that were being
enacted in his own dear garden. Fred fortunately spied the donkey, and
though there had been lately a little emulation between them, who should
grow the finest dahlias, he at once carried out the principle of
returning good for evil, drove the donkey off, even though his course
lay over his own flower beds, and then set to work to repair the damage
done. A few minutes more, and all Joe's dahlias would have been
sacrificed. Fred saved them, raked the border neatly, tied up the
plants, and restored all to order again; and who can tell but those who
thus act, the pleasure, the comfort of Fred's heart? Why, not the first
prize at the horticultural show for the first dahlia in the country,
would have given him half the joy; and a still nobler sacrifice he
made--he did not tell of his good deeds. Now, Fred began to realise the
pleasures of forbearance and kindness indeed.

There could not have been a better way of reaching young White's heart
than through his garden. Fred's was a fortunate commencement. He never
boasted of the act, but one of the boys told Mr. Barton, who did not
fail to remind Joe of it at a suitable time, and that time was when