" I wish f'ather would come home." The voioe that said this liad a troubled tone, aud the face that looked up ivas sad. " Your father will be very augry," said an aunt, wbo was sitting in the room, reading a book. boj raised liinisolf from the sofa, where he had been lying in tears for half au hour, and with a touch of indignation in Lis voice said : '' He'll be sorry, not angry Fatlier never gets angry." For a few moments the auut looked at the boy half curiously, aud let her eyes fa 1 1 again upon the book that was in her hand The boy laid himself down upon the sofa again, and Lid his face from siglit. " That's father now I" He started up, after the lapse of nearly three minutes, as the sound of a bell reaelied his ears, and went to the room door. He stood there for a little while, and then camo very siowly back saying with disappointcd air: LIt isn't father. I wonder what keeps liim so late? Oh, I do wish he would come !" 11 You seem very anxious to get deeper jnto trouble," remarked the aunt, who had only been in the house for a week, and who was neither very amiable nor sympathizing toward children. The boy's fault provoked her, and she considered hirn a fit subject for punishment. 'I bclieve, aunt l'licbe, that you would like to see me whipped," said the boy, " but you wont." "I must oonfess," replied aunt Phebe, '■ that a little wliolesome discipline of the kind j'ou speak of would not be out of' place lf you jyere my child, you would not escape." " I a in not your ehild , and I do not wish to be Father's good and loves me." " If your father is good and loves you so vvell, you must be a very ungrateful or a vury inconsiderate boy. II is goodiicss don't seem to have helped you mucli " "Hush, wil] you !" ejaculated the boy, excited to anger by this unkindness of speech. 'iphebe!'1 It was the boy's mothor who spoko now, for the first time. In an undertone sho added : ' You are wrong. .Richard is suffering quite euough, and you are doing liim liarin." Again the bell rang, and again the boy left the sofa. and went to the sitting rooin door. 'lts falher." And he went gliding down stairs. 'Ali, Richard!" was the kindly greeting, as Mr. tíordon took the hand of his boy. ■' But what's the matter ;you don't look happy." 11 Won't you come in here;" and Richard drew his father into the library. Mr. Gordou sat down, still holding Richard's hand. " You are troubled, my son. What bas bappenod." Tbc eyes of Riobard filled with teers as be looked into bis father's face. He tried to answer, bufc bis lips quiverod. - Tbcn lio tunied away and opened the door of tbe cabinet, brought out the frag-mentí of the brokeu statuette, wluïib had btcn sent homo only tbc day before, by bis fatber, over vvbosc cauutenance came DStautLy a sbadow of regret. "Who did this, iny sou ?" was asked in even voice. 'I did it," "How ?" "I tbrew niy ball in there - only once, iu forgetfulness. The boy's tones wcre husky and tremujous. A little wbile Mr. Gordon I sat controlling himself, and coüecting bis disturbed thoughts. Thén he said cheer' fully : " Wbat is done, EiobarJ, can't bc lielped. Pui. awiy the broken pitees. - you bavc bad troublo enough I can sce - and reproof enougb for your thoughllessricss - so I shall not add a word to increasa 3'our puin." "Oh, fatlicr !" and the boy tbrew bis arpia about his fatber's ueck : " you ars 30 kind - so good." Five minutes later and Richard_ entcred the sitting room with bis father. Aunt l'liebu looked up for two shadowed - faces - but she did not eee thein. She j was puzzled, "Tliat was very unfortunate," shc said, a little while after Mr. Gord on carne iu. "It was an exquisite work of art ; and it is hopelessly ruined." Richard was leaning against his father wben his aunt said tliis. Mr. Gordou only smiled, and drew his arm closely a round his boy. Mrs. Gordon throw upon her sister a look of warning, but it was unheeded. " I think Richard was a very naughty boy." "We have scttled all tliat, Phebe," was the mild, but firm answer of' Mr. Gordon ; and it is one of rules in tliis house, to get into the eunshine as quick as possible." Phebe was rebuked, while Richard lookcd gratcful, and, it tnay be, a little triumphant ; for his aunt had borne down upo:i him rather too hard foí a boy 's pationce to endure. Into the s.unshine as quiekly as posible Oh ! is not that the bettor philosbphy forour homes ? Is it not true Christian philosophy ? It. is selfishness that grows angry and rebels, becauso a fault has been committed. Let, us pot the offender into sunshine as quickly as possible, so that true thoughts alld feelings may grow vigorous in its warmth. We retuin anger, not that anger may act as a wholesoino discipline, but becausc we are unwilling to forgive. Ah, if we were always right wit ourselves, we would oftener bo riglit with our children.