all the time.
It was not because he had received a handsome present, for none had
been given him.

There had been nothing unusual to make him so happy, excepting a
thought hidden in the secret recesses of his heart. Shall I tell you
what that thought was, that made his face so bright and sunny, that
made his eyes sparkle, and wreathed his lips with smiles? I will tell
you in his own words, and I hope you will treasure it in your heart.
If you do, your face, too, will be cheerful and smiling, and your
friends will love to look upon you.

When Willie told his mother how happy he was, she put her arm around
him, and drew him lovingly to her side. "What makes you so happy?" she
inquired.

"I suppose it is because I have been trying to be good," he answered.

"That always makes people happy," his mother replied.

Willie is generally a good boy, but he sometimes does wrong, and
wrong-doing always makes him sad. It was a great pleasure to him that
he had tried to be good, and had been enabled to overcome temptation.

All children are sometimes tempted to do wrong, and it often requires
a severe struggle to decide to do right. But every child who overcomes
evil feels a conscious happiness and self-respect in so doing. I hope
you will "try to be good." If you do, and look to Christ for strength,
he will aid you, and through his grace you will be able to become
conqueror over the sins that "so easily beset you."

Henry Maxwell lives in the same town with Willie, and is of the same
age. These boys often play together. I regret to be obliged to say
that Henry is not so good a child as Willie. He does not so promptly
obey his mother, and of course he cannot be so happy. Sometimes he
pouts out his lips, when his mother wishes him to do something which
he does not exactly like.

I one day heard his mother talking to him about his teeth. She wished
him to brush them again, as he had not done it thoroughly the first
time. It was astonishing to see how that fair, round face was
disfigured by that ugly pout, and it was sad to hear his dissatisfied
"I don't want to." When his mother insisted on obedience, Henry
reluctantly complied with her wishes, closing the door behind him with
great violence.

His face was not sunny and bright like Willie's, when he had tried to
be good, but was dark and shady, like a clouded sky. It was not
pleasant to look upon, and it made the heart of his mother heavy and
sad to see it. I hope Henry wil