nt the letter by Ralph, but told him not to let Oscar know
anything about it. Ralph had some suspicions of the nature of the
letter, but he did his errand faithfully, going directly from school to
his father's store.

Mr. Preston was at first very much irritated by the teacher's
complaints of Oscar's misconduct; and could he have taken the culprit
in hand at the time, he would probably have handled him rather roughly.
But several days elapsed before he found it convenient to talk with
Oscar about the matter, and by this time his passion had subsided into
anxiety and sorrow. He showed Oscar the letter, in which he, the
eldest son, was severely censured, and his little brother was so highly
commended. With tears in his eyes, he warned him of the dangers before
him, and entreated him to change his course.

Oscar had never seen his father exhibit so much emotion before.
Usually, on such occasions, he was stern, if not passionate; more ready
to threaten and punish than to appeal to the heart and conscience.
Now, all this was changed, and sorrow seemed to have taken the place of
anger. Oscar was somewhat affected by this unusual manifestation of
parental anxiety. He was pretty well hardened against scoldings and
threatenings, but he did not know how to meet this new form of rebuke.
He tried to conceal his feelings, however, and preserved a sullen
silence throughout the interview.

This affair made no abiding impression upon Oscar. In a day or two it
was forgotten, and the slight compunctions he felt had entirely
disappeared. But the schoolmaster's complaint was soon followed by
another that was quite as unpleasant. As Mrs. Preston was sitting at
her sewing, one day, the door suddenly opened, and in came Bridget, the
servant girl, with a face as red as rage and a hot fire could make it.

"I'll be goin' off this night, ma'am--I'll pack me chist, and not stop
here any longer at all," said Bridget, in a tone that betokened her
anger.

"Going off--what do you mean? You don't say you 're going to leave us
so suddenly, Biddy?" inquired Mrs. Preston, with surprise.

"Yes, that I be," replied Bridget, very decidedly; "I 'll not be after
staying in the same house with that big, ugly b'y, another day."

"Who, Oscar? What has he done now?" inquired Mrs. Preston.

"He's did nothing but bother the life out o' me ivery day since he coom
back, that's jist all he 's did," replied Biddy. "Jist now, ma'am, he
slopped over a