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the little heart sank, the little head drooped also, and our dear little Patty looked sick and faint. She drank some cold water, and played with an egg, that mamma broke into her glass for her; but she did not want anything to eat, and crept slowly up stairs to the parlor.

"Do you like to read, Patty?" said the Professor's wife, taking pity on her pale face; "would you like a book?"

"If it isn't a moral book," said Patty, in a dreary tone, and then she turned very red. I guess she thought that she was too naughty to have what she liked.

Mamma was sitting near, and she looked up as Patty spoke. She felt sure that Patty had grieved enough over her fault. She never wanted any little child of hers to be miserable. She thought it much better for her to be cheerful, even when she had done wrong, because we always have our dear Father in heaven ready to help us to do better.

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The little girl came to her mother's knee. "Have you said your prayers this morning?" continued her mother.

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Why, mamma!" said Patty, in amazement, the color coming quick into her dim cheeks. "Why, mamma! of course I have; how could I get on, such a bad girl as I am, if I hadn't?"

"I don't think you do get on," said Mrs. Gray; "didn't God hear your prayer? Isn't He willing to forgive you?"

"Oh, mamma!" said Patty, bursting into tears, "don't say such dreadful things."

"Yes, Patty," said Mrs. Gray, dropping the soft crimson wool she was netting, "you are right. They are very dreadful things; but are they worse for me to say than for you to feel?" "It isn't God, mamma," said Patty. Patty. "I know He loves me; it's myself. I do hate myself so! You and papa love me so much, and do everything for me; and here I am, just as naughty as if I were a little beggar-girl, with nothing to eat, or drink, or wear. Oh, why can't I be good?" and Patty's tears dropped on the little book she held, not a "moral" book,

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I hope, — just like a quick spring shower.

Mrs. Gray put down her work, and took the child into her lap. "Patty," said she, "you can't be good till you are happy."

Patty opened her eyes wide. "Why, mamma!" she said, "mustn't I be good first?"

"No," said Mrs. Gray, smiling; "all that is necessary is, to mean to be good; to be willing to take the punishment which must come when you are naughty, and to be so sure of God's love that you will be also sure of his help." "I always did mean to be good," sobbed Patty.

"I believe it, my dear little girl," said her mother, kissing her; "and if it is true, God knows it also. All He asks is, that you will put your hand in his, and walk happily on, keeping just sorry enough to be sober, to be watchful."

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"Mamma!" said Patty, was Jesus happy?" "The very happiest person that ever was,' said Mrs. Gray, brightly. "Why, Patty! who was it that said, 'Your heavenly Father knoweth what things ye have need of before you ask him '?"

"And so, if I don't know, it's no matter," said Patty, brightening up. "Mamma, that troubles me most of all. I don't know what to ask for; what to think about!"

"Just now," said Mrs. Gray, "you have thought too long, Patty. We cannot go away to-day, for I must wait here for some papers papa is to send from Baltimore. Forget all about the portrait and the medicine man, go get your hat, and I will show you something pretty at the Capitol."

Patty lifted her eyes slowly. She saw that there was not a bit of reproach in her mother's loving face, and she darted up stairs in a mo

ment.

They went over the hill, and passed up the steps of the East Front, and, turning to the left, found themselves in a vestibule, or passage, just beyond the old Hall of Representatives. It was supported by marble columns, and Mrs. Gray made Patty look at them.

"What sort of columns are they, Patty?" she asked.

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"I don't know," said Patty. Dooric is just plain tree trunks, Ionic has the bark stripped down and curling over, and the Corinthian has the acanthus leaves. Mamma, those are leaves, but not acanthus. The acanthus is a long, ruffled leaf, like a narrow burdock. What are those, mamma?"

Patty opened her eyes wide. "Why, mamma!" she said, "mustn't I be good first?"

"No," said Mrs. Gray, smiling; "all that is necessary is, to mean to be good; to be willing to take the punishment which must come when you are naughty, and to be so sure of God's love that you will be also sure of his help.” "I always did mean to be good," sobbed Patty.

"I believe it, my dear little girl," said her mother, kissing her; "and if it is true, God knows it also. All He asks is, that you will put your hand in his, and walk happily on, keeping just sorry enough to be sober, to be watchful."

"Mamma!" said Patty, "was Jesus happy?"

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The very happiest person that ever was," said Mrs. Gray, brightly. "Why, Patty! who was it that said, 'Your heavenly Father knoweth what things ye have need of before you ask him '?"

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"And so, if I don't know, it's no matter," said Patty, brightening up. Mamma, that troubles me most of all. I don't know what to ask for; what to think about!"

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