by the hand, said, in a gentle tone, "You have no
one to love you, Mrs. Paisley. If you will be kind to me, I will love
you."

"Who could help being kind to you, sweet child?" said the good woman,
patting his curly head and kissing the rosy mouth he held up to her.
"You are a good boy, and don't make fun of people, like some folks."

"That's me," said Godfrey. "Tony, you are quite welcome to my share of
Mrs. Paisley; and instead of Benjamin's, you may stand a chance to get
Jacob's portion also."

"Will you have some wine, Anthony?" said his uncle, handing him a glass
as he spoke.

The child took the liquid, tasted it, and put it back on the table, with
a very wry face. "I don't like it, uncle--it is medicine."

"You will like it well enough by and by," said Godfrey. "I suppose the
stingy one at home only drinks Adam's ale?"

"What is that?"

"Water. A mess only fit for dogs and felons. Gentlemen, Anthony, rich
gentlemen like you and me, always drink wine."

"I shall never like it," said the child. "I love milk."

"Milk! What a baby! Papa, he says that he never means to like wine. Is
not that a shabby notion?"

"You, you young dog, are too fond of it already."

"I like everything that you like, pa!" said the spoilt youth. "If wine
is good for you, it must be good for me. Remember, you told me
yesterday that I must obey you in all things."

"Imitation is not obedience, Godfrey. I did not tell you to imitate me
in all things. Wine in moderation may be good for a man, and help to
beguile a weary hour, and yet may be very hurtful to boys."

"Well, I never can understand your philosophy, pa. A boy is a half-grown
man; therefore a boy may take half as much wine as a man, and it will do
him good. And as to imitation, I think that is a sort of practical
obedience. Jacob Glen says, 'As the old cock crows, so crows the young
one.'"

"You had better not quote my servants' sayings to me, Godfrey," said his
father, frowning and pushing the wine from him. "I have treated you with
too much indulgence, and am now reaping the fruit of my folly."

"Surely you are not angry with your Freddy, pa," said the beautiful boy,
hanging upon Algernon's arm, and looking imploringly into his face. "It
is all fun."

This was enough to calm the short-lived passion of the Colonel. One
glance into that sparkling animated face, and all the faults of the boy
were forgotten. He was, however, severely mortified by his impertinent
remarks