As for old Mr. Bacon, his farm has continued to improve in appearance and value ever since his daughter paid off the mortgage; and as he, once for all, banished liquor from his house, he is in no danger of having his little property burdened with a new encumbrance.  His cheerfulness has returned, and he bears as of old, the reputation of being the best tempered, best hearted man in the neighborhood.

TWO PICTURES.

Two beautiful children, a boy and a girl, the oldest but six years of age, came in from school one evening, later than usual by half an hour.  Both their eyes were red with weeping, and their cheeks wet with tears.  Their father, Mr. Warren, who had come home from his business earlier than usual, had been waiting some time for their return, and wondering why they stayed so late.  They were his only children, and he loved them most tenderly.  They had, a few weeks before, been entered at a school kept by a lady in the neighborhood—­not so much for what they would learn, as to give occupation to their active minds.

“Why, Anna!  Willy!” exclaimed Mr. Warren, as the children came in, “what’s the matter?  Why have you stayed so late?”

Anna lifted her tearful eyes to her father’s face, and her lip curled and quivered.  But she could not answer his question.

Mr. Warren took the grieving child in his arms, and as he drew her to his bosom, said to Willy, who was the oldest—­

“What has made you so late, dear?”

“Miss Roberts kept us in,” sobbed Willy.

“Kept you in!” returned Mr. Warren, in surprise.  “How came that?”

“Because we laughed,” answered the child, still sobbing and weeping.

“What made you laugh?”

“One of the boys made funny faces.”

“And did you laugh too, dear?” asked the father of Anna.

“Yes, papa.  But I couldn’t help it.  And Miss Roberts scolded so, and said she was going to whip us.”

“And was that all you did?”

“Yes, indeed, papa,” said Willy.

“I’ll see Miss Roberts about it,” fell angrily from the lips of Mr. Warren.  “It’s the last time you appear in her school.  A cruel-minded woman!”

And then the father soothed his grieving little ones with affectionate words and caresses.

“Dear little angels!” said Mr. Warren to his wife, shortly afterwards, “that any one could have the heart to punish them for a sudden outburst of joyous feelings!  And Anna in particular, a mere babe as she is, I can’t get over it.  To think of her being kept in for a long half hour, under punishment, after all the other children had gone home.  It was cruel.  Miss Roberts shall hear from me on the subject.”

“I don’t know, dear, that I would say any thing about it,” remarked the mother, who was less excited about the matter, “I don’t think she meant to be severe.  She, doubtless, forgot that they were so very young.”