Only the other day,
my boy Henri--he is big and full of mischief as boys will be--was
playing with two or three younger lads, and one of them like a
little sneak, stole up behind him and gave him a blow with a stick,
which broke in two with the force of the way the young rascal went
to work with it. Now, thought I, there will be need for me to step
out and stop this quarrel, for Henri will beat that miserable little
wretch into a jelly! But nothing of the sort! My boy turned round
with a bright laugh--picked up the two pieces of the stick and gave
them back to the little coward with a civil bow "Hit in front next
time!" he said. And the little wretch turned tail and began to boo-
hoo in fine fashion--crying as if he had been hurt instead of Henri.
But they are the best friends in the world now. I asked Henri about
it afterwards, and he turned as red as an apple in the cheeks. 'I
wanted to kill him, father,' he said,--'but I knew that the boy who
was with Cardinal Bonpre would not have done it--and so I did not!'
Now look you, for a rough little fellow such as Henri, that was a
great victory over his passions--and there is no doubt the
Cardinal's little foundling was the cause of his so managing
himself.
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