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 ever received,—it was so unexpected. She was in the habit of throwing her playthings at random when any thing puzzled or vexed her. It grieved her as much as it did her parents, but when a fit of vexation came over her it was done quick as thought.

She had a beautiful, large wax doll which she handled with the greatest care. One day in her absence, a child who was visiting there got hold of it and disfigured it sadly, besides tearing its delicate garments in shreds.

The sight of it in this plight, being the first intimation she had of the misfortune that had befallen it, was too much for her. Having a pair of scissors in her hand, she threw them with all the force she could exert across the room where Walter happened to be. Fortunately he escaped with no injury but a slight graze upon the cheek. She rushed into her father's arms and burst into tears, a thing unusual for her. "Oh, Rosa," said he, "I cannot let you go to ride with us to night."

This was a great privation, for there was nothing she enjoyed more than their summer evening drives, but she bore it bravely until she saw him leaving the house, when she burst out crying again, and said, "Oh father, won't you kiss me before you go? I want to kiss you." As he returned she threw her arms so lovingly around his neck that he was overcome, and recollecting that mercy was coeval with justice, he told her to get ready and she might go. She looked at him with astonishment, then with joy sparkling through the tears in her eyes, soon joined