The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1889-01-11

'NHf 'NAAg3 ny pm 20
ing one" again concluded the listener in
the hay loft.
Then Nellie. finding her make believe
father hal gone to the city, went to the
mamma for comfort.
"0b, dear!' she began, papa is SO
cross, and scolds SO, | almost wish"
But Margie turned on her child with a
whitening look, and stern decision in her
voice.
"Hush!' she said, mot a word against
your father, not a single wordt Who gets
all your food and clothes, and buys all we
have, I should ike to know, little Miss
Wimple?n
He does" said the child sulkily.
"Then what do you think ?"
Il think he's cross" persisted Nellie.
Nellie Wimple!a said the mimic MAN.
ma in awful tones; you go and sit in that
chair five hours for ~insistin' upon it your
papa's ~cross.."
"Oh," said Bessie, poking her head in
from the kitchen quarter, and forgetting
her character Of Bridget; mamma made
me go to bed before papa came home for
stickin' to it he was cross; she didn't make
me sit in a chair for five hours. But | don't
care, l got punished for telling the truth, .
she added, in a one of satisfaction at be-
ing able to speak her mind without fear Of
detection.
"Well, | amt got any bed to send her
to- replied Margle; ssbesides, Miss Bird
get, you'd better remem Der where you be-
long, and not be poking your nose in the
nursery"
Mr.. Wimpie remembered that q night or
two before, his daughter Bessie was in bed
when he got home, and 10 his impatient
query, "What ais her now?" his wife
had only replied that she was sent to bed
for talking improperly, and be had asked
nothing further, feeling really relieved that
the child was not sick.
But Bridget" vanished just as John,
the man. appeared on the scene.
"An' hasn't ye father come yet9'' he
asked. "He was to come on the noon
train"
"Truly?' asked Willie.
"For s~artain; he must be at the house
now, I believe" said John.
"Oh dear." said Willie pettishly, ssthen
all our fun's spoiled.'
"Well, anyway" said Margie after a
minute of doleful silence, .s1et US go on
with our play till he comes, then we'll
skip
No said Willie in a disappointed tone,
'sif papa's coming home early, I'm going
off to play with the rest of the fellers. It's
no use, if l stay here, I'll do something or
ruther that's wrong first thing. Too bad
we were in for a first-rate time"
Great tears stood in Mr.. Wimple's eyes
as he watched his pretty son stloll off in the
direction of a little friends home, while
the three little girls walked off in the direc-
ton of the orchard.
"Is it possible!" he fairly groaned; sis
it possible my very name falls like a wet
pail on my dear children's ears! and is my
Vile, AldiSaIti, piiSf W dclSHu INC cFcL
in the face of a truth unitly spoken?
What ami doing, Can it be my only boy
Willie leaves his home and the safe COM
~panionship of his pure little sisters to avoid
encountering my growiy voice! l think,
Mr.. William Wimple, it is about time you
took yourself in hand. Better let your
bright, observing children be your teach
ers, and regard in time the notifying les
son they nave taught"
About that time a little boy over in the
village died. He was not the child of par
ents they knew very well, but for a long
time Mis-. Wimple thought the event made
a powerful impression On her husbands
mind. For from that day forth he was an
altered man in his family, and it was not
long before he knew his children loved
more than they feared him.
And his rare wife, Margaret, was a cher
ished and happy woman indeed; but not
until years afterwards did Mr.. Wimple tell
her how, one afternoon, his four children
suddenly became his teachers.-Ars. Har-
ret A. CAeerer.