Ah! that did Karl know right well! for those were the words his mother always used whenever he was found guilty of disorder. Yes, it must out, he was very careless. Toys, books, papers, all things that he used, were left lying about, instead of being put in their places, and so were soon defaced and torn. It was just the same with his clothes; his cap would be laid on the bread and butter, his pocket handkerchiefs lost, his boots were always unlaced, and on everything belonging to him were ugly spots and creases-his coat of arms; and now the pretty picture, which was otherwise so satisfactory, had been marked with it in the following way :

Among other things that the boy was continually losing were his garters, owing to his want of care in fastening them, and this was the case with one of them on the day when his photograph was taken. As he was now old enough to put on his own stockings and shoes, and even trousers, Anna, who had some ironing to finish, left him to do it for himself, only telling him to be sure and pull up his stockings very tight and smooth. Not wanting to be reproved again for losing his garter, and not knowing where to find another, he hit upon the ingenious plan of cutting off a portion of the tail of his toy dragon, tearing away the paper fin, and winding the rest five or six times around his leg. That a bit of the fin remained he did not notice. Now on that very same leg the trousers had happened to get so pushed up, at his sitting for the picture, as to leave the little bare knee plainly visible; and just below it, in full sight, was the six-fold string, with the remnant of paper fin.

While the boy stood by in confusion, not daring to look up, his mother had been answering the doctor's question concerning the coat of arms. 'I'm quite desperate about his want of order,' added she earnestly.

'Oh, there's a remedy for that,' said he, in a cold-blooded way. 'It is a disease, like other things. I'll write a prescription for him at once; and, going to the writing-table, he dipped his pen into the ink-stand.

Karl was dreadfully frightened. A prescription for disorder; thought he, in terror. He'll be working magic on me! Oh, mercy ! What will come of it? But the doctor, having continued to write, quite composedly, now handed the mother the finished prescription with these words

'Send that to the apothecary's, dear madam. A table-spoonful is

Karl's Coat of Arms.

191

to be given after each attack, but not immediately-only in the evening before going to bed. That you may have no uneasiness about it, I will tell you exactly the effect it will produce. The symptom of the disease, or, to speak more correctly, the circumstance by which its existence has been shown, will appear upon the forehead of the little patient in red letters, which, in case of no further manifestation of the trouble, may be effaced, after two or three hours, by bathing with the same medicine. By this means only can the cause of the complaint be gradually removed.'

'So saying, the doctor took his hat, bade good-bye without looking at the boy, and departed.

As soon as Karl was alone with his mother he threw his arms about her neck, sobbing bitterly, and begging her not to send for the terrible medicine. He would never, never more be guilty of disorder.

'The prescription will be made up,' she replied, gently; 'but you kaow it depends entirely upon you whether the medicine will ever be taken. If there should in future be no sign of the disease, of course the remedy will not be needed.'

There was comfort in that, and the boy's eyes were soon dry again. From that hour he would be a model of neatness and order; so the doctor had not done that writing for nothing, after all.

To be sure, he wished his mother would not insist upon sending the picture to his grandmother just as it was, but then that was a small matter compared to the prescription.

Four days went by. On the sideboard in the sitting-room, almost hidden behind the big lamp, stood a phial filled with a liquid of water-like clearness. To it was fastened a pink label, with a dragon's head stamped on one end, and on the other side these written words: 'For the little son of Counsellor Gold. A tablespoonful to be taken at evening.'

The phial had not yet been opened; its gilt paper cap was still closely twisted about the stopper, and surely never before was a medicinebottle taken so much notice of. Whenever Karl fourd himself alone in the room, he would steal up to the sideboard, look at it suspiciously from all directions, smiling with satisfaction at seeing it still full, and once, we are obliged to confess, actually making at it with his little hands a very naughty gesture of derision. For his credit, let us hope he was thinking only of it, not of the doctor, when he did so.

He was having a thoroughly good time now-a-days. His mother was again about the house, and every evening, to his great delight, went to bed when he did, instead of staying up a good while longer, as she used to do; and all day long he heard no reproof, only praise; for he was certainly most uncommonly orderly. Everything was put in place as soon as done with, or even if he chanced to forget his mother had only to glance at the sideboard to call his attention to the fact. When he went out to walk he took pains to fasten everything snugly, and carefully to avoid stepping in the gutter, so that on every day of the four he came home quite nice and clean; in short, things went finely with him, although he was a little bothered, too, it is so vexatious to have to be thinking of one thing all the time, and keeping such a close watch on one's self. But at noon on the fourth day, as he was preparing to exhibit to his mother a performance in his theatre-the Christ-child had brought him a splendid one,—and had covered with the decorations and figures not only the diningtable, but the stand she used for her work,-just as all was ready to begin, there came a knock at the door. It was Karl's best friend, the Schultze's little Hans, who said :—

My mother has sent me to ask if you can't go to the island with us.'

Karl cast a glance of delight at his mother.

'You may go,' said she, ‘Anna will get you ready; but then you must come back first and put away your playthings.'

With a joyful exclamation he embraced her, and ran off with Hans. Who came to put the toys away? Not he. That was quite forgotten in his pleasure over the excursion he was to have; and not until he came home at night did he once think of it. Then, when he opened the door and saw the big table, now ready spread for tea, was he suddenly seized with a sense of his fault, and felt very unhappy.

this mother said not a word about it, and was as kind and gentle as ever; but, on rising to go with him to bed, actually took with her the horrible phial!

Karl's cries and entreaties were all of no avail; he must swallow some of that magical medicine. How strange that it shouldn't taste any worse! Only like sweetened water. But what of that? Tomorrow, to-morrow would come the misery.

He cried himself to sleep at last, so soundly that he never woke

How to Discourage your Minister.

193

until his mother was up and down-stairs. His first thought was the medicine; he put his hand to his forehead, but felt nothing unusual and thought with a sigh of relief, Ah, the doctor was only making fun of me. Yet he was not quite easy, so he jumped out of bed and ran in his little shirt to look at himself in his mother's dressing-glass. He started back with a loud cry. On his forehead, in bright red letters, was the word 'Theatre.'

Sobbing, he flung himself upon the bed, where he would have continued to lie, had he not known his father would be sure to punish him if he was not ready for breakfast. What torture it was to wash himself, for he remembered well that the doctor had said the most serious results would follow if anything but the medicine should be used to remove the letters. So he had to be very careful not to touch them with the sponge.

It struck eight. He must go to the breakfast-table. How he shrank into himself and faltered out his 'Good morning!' His father, looking at him, said nothing but, 'Hm-hm.' His mother kindly poured out his milk. He couldn't bear it.

'Mother,' said he, in a low tone, 'don't you see how I'm bewitched ?'

'Yes; I saw it when I got up,' was the grave reply. We knew it would be so; it will be many times more, I fear.'

'No, no,' exclaimed Karl, sobbing, never, never again. You will see I shall never more need to swallow that horrible medicine.'

And he spoke truth. The last use made of the contents of that bottle was to wash away from his forehead, about noon, that odious word; for from that hour he became a pattern of order, and now that he has grown to be a man is so noted for it that nobody can excel him in the accuracy and exactness with which all his affairs are managed.

S. C. B. NOTE.-The translator has taken the liberty to give a name to the boy, who was nameless in the original.

2. Notice carefully any slip he makes while you are awake; point out the dull portions to your children and friends; it will come round to him.

3. Censure his efforts at usefulness; deplore his want of common sense; let him know that you won't help him because A. B. does, because you were not first consulted, or because you did not start the plan yourself.

4. Let him know the follies and sins of his hearers. Show him how much he over-rates them, and tell him their adverse criticisms on himself.

5. Tell him, when he calls, what a stranger he is; how his predecessors used to drop in for an hour's chat, and how much you liked them.

6. Never attend the prayer meeting; frequent no special service. Why should you be righteous overmuch?

6

7. Occasionally get up a little gaiety for the young folks. This will be found very effectual about the communion season. There is a time to dance.'

8. Give him no intimation when you are ill; of course he should know; and your offended dignity, when he comes to see you, will render his visit pleasant. On no account intimate your recovery.

9. Require him to swell the pomp of every important occasion, unless, indeed, there are prudential reasons for passing him over.

10. If he is always in his own pulpit, clamour for strangers; if he has public duties, and sometimes goes abroad, complain that he is never at home.

11. Keep down his income. Easy means are a sore temptation, and fullness of bread is bad for every one-but the laity.

12. As he will find it hard to be always at home to receive callers, and always running among the people, and always well prepared for pulpit and platform, you will be sure to have just cause for complaint, one way or the other. Tell it to every one, and then lament that there is so general dissatisfaction with them.

Patient continuance in courses like these, modified according to circumstances, has been known not only to discourage, but to ruin the usefulness and break the spirit of ministers, to send them off to other charges, and sometimes to their graves.

Those who desire to avoid such results should avoid the practice of such things as are here referred to. Stylus.

6 Let us Help one another.'