s laugh and babble; how the
little lambs skip about, and crop the moist herbage, and rejoice that
the sky is blue again, the breezes balmy and mild!"

"But storms will come, sometimes," said Mrs. Royden.

"You cannot control the weather out of doors, but you may make just the
kind of weather you choose in your household. Only keep the sky of your
own heart cloudless and blue. And you can do it. Every one can.
Parents, of all persons, should do this. They owe it to their children;
they owe it to the good Lord, who has given them those children, to
train aright the vines of their wayward affections, in their tender
youth. Sister, you do not realize your responsibility. What are the
petty trials of to-day, compared with _their_ immortal destiny?"

The old man went on in the same kind but plain and impressive manner. At
first Mrs. Royden had been impatient to return to her work; but the
words of wisdom, each a golden link, formed a chain to hold her gently
back. Her hands fell upon her lap, her eyes sought the floor, and it was
not long before her cheeks were wet with downward-coursing tears.

And still the old man talked. Such sweet, simple, earnest and touching
eloquence, her soul had never tasted. He did not forget to plead for
Hepsy,--the lonely, unhappy and oft down-trodden girl, for whom her pity
was seldom moved; and now she wept to think how thoughtless and cruel
she had sometimes been.

Mrs. Royden was altogether softened,--was quite melted. Then the old man
added words of hope and comfort; he drew a picture of her sensitive,
irritable, but loving and noble-hearted husband, made happy by her
cheerfulness, aided and encouraged by her to conquer his impetuous and
petulant temper; he described the children growing up under mild
influences, with such sunny dispositions and gentle natures as reap the
golden grain of content, and love, and tranquil joy, in the rich, wide
fields of life.

He ceased at the right moment. Pressing her hand affectionately, he took
his hat and went forth. She returned to her work. The angels must have
smiled, for what a change was there! No more fretting, no more scolding,
no more angry looks and impatient words, no more impetuous rushing into
the stern arms of labor; but gentleness of manner, a low-toned word now
and then, thoughtfulness, and some few silent tears, astonished Hepsy
and Sarah, and led the guilty Sam to think that this strange calmness
boded ruinous storms, to burst with