arling was telling the story?" asked Hatty, much interested.
"He looked very red. I don't believe teacher knows what a drunkard his father is."
"Well," said Hatty; "you and I ought to be very thankful that our father is a temperance man. How should you feel to have him lying with the hogs?"
"I never thought how many things we have to be grateful for," said Fred, gravely. "If I had a father like Dan Jones, I never could look anybody in the face."
Mrs. Carleton, finding that her son's mind was still dwelling on gratitude, promised to relate a story on the subject, as soon as tea was cleared away.
While Hatty was doing this, Fred took his book to learn the lesson for the next Sabbath. He was nearly through when he noticed that his sister was trying to lift the table alone, and set it in its place next the wall.
"Let me help you, Hatty," he cried, jumping to her assistance.
"Thank you, Fred," and she kissed him.
"I like to do things for people who thank me,"
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