complexion, and yet he loved her and would instantly
fight for her, and no one else dared tease her or utter a word to annoy
her. She was fourteen years of age when Mr. Excell came to town, and at
sixteen considered herself a young lady. As suitors began to gather
about her, they each had a vigorous trial to undergo with Harold; it was
indeed equivalent to running the gantlet. Maud was always in terror of
him on the evenings when she had callers.

One day he threw a handful of small garter snakes into the parlor where
his sister sat with young Mr. Norton. Maud sprang to a chair screaming
wildly, while her suitor caught the snakes and threw them from the
window just as the minister's tall form darkened the doorway.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

Maud, eager to shield Harry, said: "Oh, nothing much, papa--only one of
Harry's jokes."

"Tell me," said the minister to the young man, who, with a painful smile
on his face, stammeringly replied:

"Harry thought he'd scare me, that's all. It didn't amount to much."

"I insist on knowing the truth, Mr. Norton," the minister sternly
insisted.

As Norton described the boy's action, Mr. Excell's face paled and his
lips set close. His eyes became terrible to meet, and the beaded sweat
of his furious anger stood thick on his face. "Thank you," he said with
ominous calmness, and turning without another word, went to his study.

His wife, stealing up, found the door locked and her husband walking the
floor like a roused tiger. White and shaking with a sort of awe, Mrs.
Excell ran down to the kitchen where Harold crouched and said:

"Harold, dear, you'd better go out to Mr. Burns' right away."

Harold understood perfectly what she meant and fled. For hours neither
Mrs. Excell nor Maud spoke above a whisper. When the minister came down
to tea he made no comment on Harry's absence. He had worn out his
white-hot rage, but was not yet in full control of himself.

He remained silent, and kept his eyes on his plate during the meal.

The last time he had punished Harold the scene narrowly escaped a tragic
ending. When the struggle ended Harold lay on the floor, choked into
insensibility.

When he had become calm and Harold was sleeping naturally in his own
bed, the father knelt at his wife's knee and prayed God for grace to
bear his burden, and said:

"Mary, keep us apart when we are angry. He is like me: he has my
fiendish temper. No matter what I say or do, keep us apart t