A little girl, who sat near, now handed Willy a large yellow-covered book, full of beautiful painted pictures.  His eyes now sparkled more brightly than ever, as he began to turn over the leaves.  Soon Henry spied the pretty book; and not at all ashamed of his unkindness, he moved towards Willy, and began to look over his shoulder.  Would you not have pushed him away, or at least have turned round so as to conceal the book?  But Willy held it towards him and pointed to the bright pictures as pleasantly as if Henry had never been unkind to him.

When school had closed, and the children had left the room, Miss H. said to the teacher, “Who is that little boy you called Willy?” “His name is William D——­,” said the teacher; “but why do you wish to know?” “Because I know he has a good mother,” was the reply.

Now, how did this stranger, who never spoke to the little boy in her life, know that he had a good mother?  Was it not by his kind and forgiving conduct to Henry?  Yes; she knew that some good mother had taught little Willy not to return evil for evil, but to do good to those that used him spitefully.  It was true, Willy’s mother loved the meek and forgiving Saviour, and tried to teach her little boy to love him and be like him.  And was she not honored, when the conduct of her son told every one that he had a good mother?

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Dear children, can you not thus honor your parents?  But instead of this, some children take the opportunity, when they are away from their parents, to disobey all their wishes and instructions, and thus lead those who see them to suppose that they have not been taught to do right.  O, how dreadful, that the conduct of a child should cause a stranger to say, “I know he has a bad mother!”

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