neighbor. When he read the first of those verses, his voice always
trembled, although he had been reading it now some twenty or thirty
years. It ran thus:--

"Love thy neighbor with Christian zeal!
Crush him not with an iron heel,
Though he in dust be prostrated!
Love's all powerful, quickening hand
Guides, forever, with magic wand
All that it has created."

But when he had recited the whole poem and had paused a little, he
would cry, and his eyes would twinkle,--

"Up, small trolls! and go nicely home without any noise,--go quietly,
that I may only hear good of you, little toddlers!"

But when they were making the most noise in hunting up their books and
dinner-pails, he shouted above it all,--

"Come again to-morrow, as soon as it is light, or I will give you a
thrashing. Come again in good season, little girls and boys, and then
we will be industrious."




CHAPTER IV.