her?"

"But that was because she was sick; when she was well, then she laughed
all the time, just like Nick when he don't feel bad."

"But--but," and there was an unmistakable tremor in the voice, "one day
when she was cross she asked for a drink of water; Nick was sitting in
the room and jumped up and brought it to her, but she was so out of
humor she shook her head and would not take it from him; she was
determined I should hand it to her. I thought she was unreasonable and I
told Nick to set it on the bureau, and I let Nellie know she shouldn't
have it unless she took it from him; I meant that I wouldn't hand it to
her and thereby humor her impatience. She cried, but she was too
stubborn to give in, and I refused to hand her the water. Nick felt so
bad he left the room, and I was sorry; but Nellie was getting well, and
I was resolved to be firm with her. She was very thirsty, for her fever
was a terrible one. I was tired and dropped into a doze. By-and-by I
heard Nellie's bare feet pattering on the floor, and softly opening my
eyes, without stirring I saw her walk hastily to the bureau, catch hold
of the tumbler and she drank every drop of water in it. She was so weak
and dizzy that she staggered back and threw herself on the bed like one
almost dead. The next day she was worse, and we thought we were going to
lose her. You saw how hard I cried, but most of my tears were caused by
the remembrance of my cruelty to her the night before."

"But, Katrina, you did right," said the father, who heard the affecting
incident for the first time. "It won't do to humor children so much: it
will spoil them."

"That may be, but I cannot help thinking of that all the time; it would