But now tell me what you would have done if he had provoked you, and
insulted you, too?"

"I would have forgiven him," answered the boy.

"Well, I did. There was one spell I just started in and forgave him
every day for a week, that was seven times."

"I would have forgiven him seventy times seven."

"That is just what my mother always says. Perhaps you know my mother?"

"She knows me, too," replied the boy.

"That is odd. I didn't think she knew any of the boys Bob knows."

"Bob does not know me," replied the boy; "I know him."

Just then Tommy's attention was attracted by a flock of little brown
birds passing over their heads. One of the birds flew low and fluttered
as if wounded, and fell in the dust near, where it lay beating its
little wings, panting and dying. The boy tenderly picked it up.

"Somebody's hit him with a sling-shot," said Tommy, carelessly.

The boy smoothed the bruised wing, and straightened the crushed and
broken body. The bird ceased fluttering.

"I'm most sorry," said Tommy, "I didn't forgive Bob. It makes me feel
bad, what you told me about his having no home. Now, mother is something