“Mother!—­Mother!—­Give me a piece of cake.”

“No, my son.  You have had cake enough this afternoon,” replied Mrs. Stanley.

“Oh yes, do, mother, give me a piece of cake.”

“It will make you sick, Charley.”

“No, it won’t.  Please give me some.”

“I had rather not.”

“Yes, mother.  Oh do!  I want a piece of cake.”

“Go ’way, Charles, and don’t tease me.”

There was a slight expression of impatience in the mother’s voice.  The child ceased his importunities for a few moments, but just as Mrs. Stanley had commenced a sentence, intended to embody some wise saying in regard to the management of children, the little boy broke in upon her with—­

“I say, mother, give me a piece of cake, won’t you?” in quite a loud voice.

Mrs. Stanley felt irritated by this importunity, but she governed herself.  Satisfied that there would be no peace unless the cake were forthcoming, she said, looking affectionately at the child: 

“Poor little fellow!  I suppose he does feel hungry.  I don’t think another piece of cake will hurt him.  Excuse me a moment, Mrs. Noland.”

The cake was obtained by Charley in the very way he had, hundreds of times before, accomplished his purpose, that is, by teasing it out of his mother.  For the next ten minutes the friends conversed, unmolested.  At the end of that time Charley again made his appearance.

“Go up into the nursery, and stay with Ellen,” said Mrs. Stanley.

The child took no notice, whatever, of this direction, but walked steadily up to where his mother was sitting, saying, as he paused by her side—­

“I want another piece of cake.”

“Not any more, my son.”

“Yes, mother.  Give me some more.”

“No.”  This was spoken in a very positive way.  Charley began to beg in a whining tone, which, not producing the desired effect, soon rose into a well-defined cry.

“I declare!  I never saw such a hungry set as my children are.  They will eat constantly from morning until night.”  Mrs. Stanley did not say this in the most amiable tone of voice.

“Mother!  I want a piece of cake,” cried Charley.

“I’ll give you one little piece more; but, remember, that it will be the last; so don’t ask me again.”

Charley stopped crying at once.  Mrs. Stanley went out with him.  As soon as she was far enough from the parlour not to be heard, she took Charley by the shoulders, and giving him a violent shake, said—­

“You little rebel, you!  If you come into the parlour again, I’ll skin you!”

The cake was given.  Charley cared about as much for the threat as he did for the shaking.  He had gained his end.

“I pray daily for patience to bear with my children,” said Mrs. Stanley, on returning to the parlour.  “They try us severely.”

“That they do,” replied Mrs. Noland.  “But it is in our power, by firmness, consistency, and kindness, to render our tasks comparatively light.”