treasured book, "oh, uncle." In reply all I heard was a dull thud, and I
saw Paula fall to the ground. Beside himself, my father had given her a
tremendous blow on the head with the Bible.

Teresa rushed toward the child and carried her into the kitchen, turning as
she did so toward my father "Have a care, sir," she cried, her voice
trembling with indignation. "Mark my words, you will repent some day of
what you have just done."

It appeared to me that my father had already repented. He took his hat
without a word and went out, and did not return until the evening.

* * * * *

"What a shame that Paula isn't a boy," said Louis, as soon as our father
had disappeared.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because she is so brave. Did you notice she stopped crying as soon as
father hit her? In her place, you would have been crying yet."

"And you? How about yourself?"

"Oh, boys wouldn't cry for a little thing like that. I'm surprised, though,
that father hit her."

"I'm surprised too," said Rosa, "but, of course, she must learn to obey."

"I wonder what can be in this Bible of hers to make her love it so,"