"I can go well enough, mother."

"Well, run along then, you intolerable little tease, you!"

Emma scampered away, and Mrs. Stanley remarked--

"That is the way. They gain their ends by importunity."

"But should you allow that, my friend?"

"There was no particular reason why Emma should not go to the square. I didn't think, at first, when I said I would rather not have her go, or I would have said 'yes' at once. It is so difficult to decide upon children's requests on the spur of the moment."

"But after you had said that you did not want her to go to the square, would it not have been better to have made her abide by your wishes?"

"I don't think it would have been right for me to have deprived the child of the pleasure of playing in the square, from the mere pride of consistency. I was wrong in objecting at first--to have adhered to my objection would have been still a greater wrong;--don't you think so?"

"I do not," returned Mrs. Noland. "I know of no greater evil in a family, than for the children to discover that their parents vacillate in any matter regarding them. A denial once made to any request should be positive, even if, in a moment after, it be seen to have been made without sufficient reason."

"I cannot agree with you. Justice, I hold, to be paramount in all things. We should never wrong a child."

The third appearance of Charley again broke in upon the conversation.

"Give me another piece of cake, mother."

"What! Didn't I tell you that there was no more for you? No! you cannot have another morsel."

"I want some more cake," whined the child.

"Not a crumb more, sir."

The whine rose into a cry.

"Go up stairs, sir."

Charley did not move.

"Go this instant."

"Give me some cake."

"No."

The cry swelled into a loud bawl.

Mrs. Stanley became excessively annoyed. "I never saw such persevering children in my life," said she, impatiently. "They don't regard what I say any more than if I had not spoken. Charles! Go out of the parlour this moment!"

The tone in which this was uttered the child understood. He left the parlour slowly, but continued to cry at the top of his voice. The parlour bell was rung, and Ellen the nurse appeared.

"Do, Ellen, give that boy another piece of cake! There is no other way to keep him quiet."

In about three minutes after this direction had been given, all was still again. Mrs. Stanley now changed the topic of conversation. Her manner was not quite so cheerful as before. The conduct of Charley had worried and mortified her.

The last piece of cake had not been really wanted. Charley asked for it because a spirit of opposition had been aroused, but he had no appet.i.te to eat it. It was crumbled about the floor and wasted. His mother had peace for the next hour. After that she went into the kitchen to give directions, and make some preparations for tea.

Charley was by her side.

"Ellen, take this child out," said she.

Ellen took hold of Charley's arm.

"No!--no!--Go 'way, Ellen!" he screamed.

"There!--there!--never mind. Let him stay," said the mother.

A jar of preserved fruit was brought forth.

"Give me some?" asked Charley.

"No, not now. You will get some at the table."

"I want some now. Give me some now."

A spoonful of the preserves was put into a saucer, and given to the child.

"Give me some more," said he, holding up his saucer in about half a minute.

"No. Wait until tea is ready."

"Give me some sweetmeats. I want more, mother!"

"I tell you, no."

A loud bawl followed.

"I declare this child will worry me to death!" exclaimed the mother, her mind all in confusion, lading out a large spoonful of the fruit, and putting it into his saucer.

When this was eaten, still more was demanded, and peremptorily refused. Crying was resorted to, but without effect, though it was loud and deafening. Finding this unsuccessful, the spoiled urchin determined to help himself. As soon as his mother's back was turned, he clambered up to the table and seized the jar containing the preserves. In pulling it over far enough to get his spoon into it, the balance of the jar was destroyed, and over it went, rolling off upon the floor, and breaking with a loud crash. At the moment this occurred, Mrs. Stanley entered the room. Her patience, that had been severely tried, was now completely overthrown. She was angry enough to punish her child, and feel a delight in doing so. Seizing him by one arm, she lifted him from the floor, as if he had been but a feather, and hurried with him up to her chamber. There she whipped him unmercifully, and then put him to bed. He continued to cry after she had done so, when she commanded him to stop in a voice that he dared not disobey. An hour afterward, when much cooled down, she pa.s.sed through the chamber. She looked down upon her little boy with a feeling of repentance for her anger and the severity of her punishment. This feeling was in no way mitigated on hearing the child sob in his sleep. The mother felt very unhappy.

So much for Mrs. Stanley--so much for her tenderness of feeling--so much for her warm-blooded system. Its effects need not be exposed further. Its folly need not be set in any plainer light.

Some weeks afterward she was spending an afternoon with Mrs. Noland.

Her favourite topic was the management of children, and she introduced it as usual, inveighing as was her wont against the cruelty of punishing children--especially in cold blood, as she called it. For her part, she never punished except in extreme cases, and not then, unless provoked to do so. Unless she felt angry, and punished on the spur of the moment, she could not do it at all.

During the conversation, which was led pretty much by Mrs. Stanley, a child, about the age of Charley, came into the parlour. He walked up to his mother and whispered some request in her ear.

"Oh no, Master Harry!" was the smiling, but decided reply.

The child lingered with a look of disappointment. At length he came up, and kissing his mother, asked again, in a sweet, earnest way, for what he had been at first denied.

"After I said no!" And Mrs. Noland looked gravely into his face.