"Poor child!" said Mrs. Elder, the tears springing to her eyes as
she stooped down and kissed the wounded place.

"Are you playing with the cards yet, dear?" asked Uncle William.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you want to play more?"

"Yes, sir."

"Run along then." And Mary tripped lightly away.

"When the child first spoke to you, Sarah, if you had paused to see
what she wanted, all would have been right in a few minutes. Even if
her request had been frivolous, by attending to it you would have
satisfied her, and been in a much better frame of mind to entertain
your friend."

Mrs. Elder was silent. There was conviction in Mary's inflamed neck
not to be resisted; and the conviction went to her heart.

"We," said the old gentleman, "who have attained to the age of
reason, expect children, who do not reflect, to act with all the
propriety of men and women, and that too, without mild and correct
instruction as to their duties. Are we not most to blame? They must
regard our times, seasons, and conveniences, and we will attend to
their ever active wants, when our leisure will best permit us to do
so. Is it any wonder, under such a system, that children are
troublesome? Would it not be a greater wonder were they otherwise?