I Won't Say She Was Silly, But

Blot Your Misdeeds Out (if You Are Particularly Conscientious), By A Good Deed, As Soon As You Can; Just As We Did A Correct Sum At School On The Slate, Where An Incorrect One Was Only Half Rubbed Out. It Was Better Than Wetting Our Sponge With Our Tears; Both Less Loss Of Time Where Tears Had To Be Waited For, And A Better Effect At Last.

When Prayers Were Ended, And His Mother Had Wished Him Good-night With That Long Steady Look Of Hers Which Conveyed No Expression Of The Tenderness That Was In Her Heart, But Yet Had All The Intensity Of A Blessing.

He Could Remember All About It Now; The Pitiful Figure He Must Have Cut; The Absurd Way In Which He Had Gone And Done The Very Thing He Had So Often Agreed With Himself In Thinking Would Be The Most Foolish Thing In The World; And Had Met With Exactly The Consequences Which, In These Wise Moods, He Had Always Foretold Were Certain To Follow, If He Ever Did Make Such A Fool Of Himself.

He Loved Her, And Would Love Her; And Defy Her, And This Miserable Bodily Pain.

How Different Men Were To Women!