r clasped to his proud breast his first-born child,
the little Arthur, he deemed his happiness complete. The boy was like
his father, both in character and beauty; and as he grew in "winsome
ways," he became the pride and pet not only of the household, but of
friends and visitors. So much indulgence, and openly expressed
admiration, did not fail to foster the boy's inherent spirit of pride,
and he soon learned to demand concessions and indulgences which were all
too rarely denied him. At times, the mother, her fears aroused for the
well-being of her child, would remonstrate upon the course of training
pursued with him; but a laughing promise of amendment, forgotten almost
as soon as given, a kiss, a word of endearment, or a gentle smile,
caused the subject to be dropped; not to be renewed until some glaring
fault in their darling boy again demanded it.

Gulian seemed sent to his father's arms just in time to prevent the
utter ruin, by over-indulgence, of young Arthur. He was a delicate but
exquisitely beautiful babe, and his frequent illnesses made deep demands
on the endearments hitherto so freely lavished upon his brother. For a
time Arthur was highly indignant at the new turn of affairs, and openly
resented the slights which necessarily he now often received. Naturally,
however, he was of a noble and generous disposition, and soon learned to
tenderly love the helpless babe, whose blue eyes would brighten when he
drew near, and whose lips murmured, for their first word, "Arty."

Arthur had attained his sixth year when his brother was born; and when
time had written Guly a schoolboy, the closest affection united the
children, notwithstanding the difference in their years and disposition.
Guly, as he was called, though of a cheerful disposition, never
displayed that sprightliness and vivacity which characterized Arthur.
Even in his merriest moments, a thoughtfulness mingled with his mirth,
which rendered him ever attentive to the comfort of others.

There was an attraction about the child which won all hearts--a natural
grace and refinement of manner, mingled with a presence whose influence
was always for good. With the tattered beggar he came in contact kindly,
pressing into his tawny hands the alms he had to give, while Arthur,
though equally generous, spoiled his gift by the manner in which it was
bestowed, tossing his gold contemptuously at the weary feet of those who
asked it, and turning carelessly away. Too earl