e saw plainly that as the days went on instead of
Stevie's getting the upper hand of his fault, his fault was getting the
upper hand of him. So one day she and papa had a long, serious talk
about Stevie, and then papa and Stevie had a long, serious talk about
the fault. I shall not tell all that passed between them, for papa had
to do some plain speaking that hurt Stevie's feelings very much, and
his little pocket-handkerchief was quite damp long before the interview
was over.

Papa so seldom found fault that what he said now made a great
impression on the little boy. "I didn't know I was so horrid, papa,"
he said, earnestly; "I really don't mean to be, but you see people are
so trying sometimes, and then it seems as if I just have to say things.
You don't know how hard it is to keep from saying them."

"Oh, yes, I do," said Mr. Lawrence, with a nod of his head; "but you
are getting to be a big boy now, Stevie, and if you expect to be a
soldier one of these days--as you say you do--you must begin to control
yourself now, or you'll never be able to control your men by and by.
And besides, you are bringing discredit on your beloved country by such
behavior."

Stevie looked up with wide-open, astonished eyes. "Why, papa!" he said.

"I heard you tell Guiseppi the other day," went on his papa, "that all
Americans were nice. Do you expect him to believe that, when you, the
only little American boy he knows, speak so rudely to him, and he hears
you ordering your sisters about as you do?"

Stevie hung his head without a word, but his cheeks got very red.

"You know, Stevie," said Mr. Lawrence, "great honors always bring great
responsibilities with them. You are a Christian and an American--two
great honors; and you mustn't shirk the responsibility to be courteous
and noble and kind, which they entail. Even our dear Lord Christ
pleased not Himself, you know; don't you suppose it grieves Him to see
His little follower flying into rages because he can't have his own
way? And can you possibly imagine Washington or Lincoln ordering
people about as you like to do?"

There was a moment's silence; then Stevie straightened himself up and
poked his hands deep down in his pockets. "Papa," he said, tossing
back his yellow curls, a look of determination on his little fair face,
"I'll not shirk my 'sponsibilities. I'm just going to try with all my
might to be a better boy."

"Good for you, Stevie!" cried papa, kissing him