“Why he wanted very much to pay me for the corn his pigs had eaten, but I wouldn’t hear to it.  I told him that it made no difference in the world; that such accidents would happen sometimes.”

“You did?”

“Certainly, I did.”

“And that’s the way you spoke your mind to him?”

“Precisely.  And it had the desired effect.  It made him feel ten times worse than if I had spoken angrily to him.  He is exceedingly pained at what he has done, and says he will never rest until he has paid for that corn.  But I am resolved never to take a cent for it.  It will be the best possible guarantee I can have for his kind and neighbourly conduct hereafter.”

“Well, perhaps you are right,” said Mrs. Gray, after a few moments of thoughtful silence.  “I like Mrs. Barton very much—­and now I come to think of it, I should not wish to have any difference between our families.”

“And so do I like Mr. Barton.  He has read a good deal, and I find it very pleasant to sit with him, occasionally, during the long winter evenings.  His only fault is his quick temper—­but I am sure it is much better for us to bear with and soothe that, than to oppose rand excite it and thus keep both his family and our own in hot water.”

“You are certainly right,” replied Mrs. Gray; “and I only wish that I could always think and feel as you do.  But I am little quick, as they say.”

“And so is Mr. Barton.  Now just the same consideration that you would desire others to have for you, should you exercise towards Mr. Barton, or any one else whose hasty temper leads him into words or actions that, in calmer and more thoughtful moments, are subjects of regret.”

On the next day, while Mr. Gray stood in his own door, from which he could see over the two or three acres of ground that the shoemaker cultivated, he observed two of his cows in his neighbour’s cornfield, browsing away in quite a contented manner.  As he was going to call one of the farm hands to go over and drive them out, he perceived that Mr. Barton had become aware of the mischief that was going on, and had already started for the field of corn.

“Now we will see the effect of yesterday’s lesson,” said the farmer to himself; and then paused to observe the manner of the shoemaker towards his cattle in driving them out of the field.  In a few minutes Mr. Barton came up to the cows, but, instead of throwing stones at them, or striking them with a stick, he merely drove them out in a quiet way, and put up the bars through which they had entered.

“Admirable!” ejaculated Farmer Gray.

“What is admirable?” asked his wife, who came within hearing distance at the moment.

“Why the lesson I gave our friend Barton yesterday.  It works admirably.”

“How so?”

“Two of our cows were in his cornfield a few minutes ago, destroying the corn at a rapid rate.”

“Well! what did he do to them?” in a quick, anxious tone.