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 good, and they are golden, or not, according to the use we make of them.'

'But, mamma, we cannot get people released out of prison, as Howard did.'

'No; but sometimes, by instructing them in their duty, by providing them with work, so that they shall earn bread enough, and not be tempted, and driven by hunger to steal, we can prevent some people from being ever put in prison.'

My mother continued to explain that those who really desired to do good never wanted opportunities, and that the difference between Howard and other people was more in perseverance and earnestness than in circumstances. But I do not profess to remember much of what she said; I only know that, very shortly, she took me into my grandfather's study, and sitting down, began busily to mend a heap of pens which lay beside him on the table.

He was correcting proof-sheets, and, knowing that I must not talk, I stood awhile very quietly watching him.

Presently I saw him mark out a letter in the page, make a long stroke in the margin, and write a letter d beside it.

Curiosity was too much for my prudence; I could not help saying—

'Grandpapa, what did you write that letter d for?'

'There was a letter too much in the word, child,' he replied; 'I spell "potatoes" with only one p, and want the printer to put out the second.'

'Then d stands for don't, I suppose, was my next observation; 'it means don't put it in.'

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