[Illustration:  Donald spent the next hour thinking.]

It was a long time before Donald forgot again, then for days it seemed as if he almost could not remember.  Every day for a week, he had to spend an hour in the “forgettery.”  Not one of the other children had had to use it, so it began to be called “Donald’s forgettery.”  He had invented a little play with the figures on the paper and the boards in the floor, so the time did not seem long at all.  He was laughing when mamma came to let him out, and she asked what he was doing, and so Donald told her of his game.

Then mamma asked Donald if it was quite right to play, when he was put there to think.  Of course it wasn’t.  He had not thought of it that way.  He had grown careless, because of this game, and to-day Uncle Rod had come again and this time Donald had missed going to the city and seeing the new steamer that was to be launched.

“I want to stay here another hour to-day, mamma, and it’ll be the very last time I’ll have to come.  I’m going to think so hard I never can forget.”  It was the hardest thing Donald could remember ever happening, losing this trip with Uncle Rob.

As he promised mamma, it was the last time he ever forgot anything he ought to remember.

Then the forgettery had a new use.  All the children would open the door and put in things they wanted to forget.  Bessie put in her hurt feelings, when Alice forgot to come for her on the way to Mabel’s party.  Donald put in his anger, when Ben let go of the kite string and it sailed away never to come back.  Robert put in his disappointment when papa wanted him to work in the garden instead of going fishing.

—­Written for Dew Drops by Willametta Preston.

A SOFT ANSWER.

“Oh, Emma, where are you going?” asked Kitty, as she ran after her sister.

“I’m not going to tell you where I’m going; so there!” replied Emma.

“You’re just the hatefulest girl I ever saw,” said Kitty, beginning to cry.

These two little girls did not remember the verse their teacher had given them the Sunday before.  It was this:  “A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.”  Emma’s rough answer stirred up an angry feeling in Kitty’s heart.  They were grievous words and brought a reply of the same kind.  How much better it is to help each other to do right and to be gentle.

Miss Maggie had heard what the girls said, for she was just coming into the house.  She had a rose in her hand, and just as Emma ran away, leaving Kitty in tears, she held out the rose, saying to Kitty: 

“Smell it, dear; is it not beautiful?”

The sweet words and the beautiful flower calmed Kitty’s angry heart.  Miss Maggie told her to keep the rose, and when Emma came home, instead of finding a cross little sister she found Kitty very happy.

“Come see my rose,” said Kitty.  Emma smelled it and said, “Oh!  How sweet it is!” and they forgot their unkind feelings.