"But he can't make Arthur happy then. Arthur, poor, dear Arthur, will
have nobody to comfort him."

"Rover _must_ go," said Emma, sorrowfully; "but I wish there were
two Rovers, one for Arthur, and one for me."

It was a pretty sight to see these children put their fat, little arms
round Rover's neck, and hug him over and over again, and kiss his rough
face with their rosy mouths, and let their sunny curls lie among his
shaggy locks. Great tears rolled down Emma's cheeks as the dog went out
of the door; but though Emma was no martyr, she was a warm-hearted,
generous little girl, and she did not want to keep the dog away from
Arthur, though so sorry to part with it.

"We have got you and I, and two kitties, haven't we Charlie," said she,
"and sister Mary and brother John."

"And your mother beside, who I hope is worth counting," said Mrs.
Hamilton. "You can spare Rover very well, I think."

After Arthur left home on that dark, cheerless Monday morning, he felt
very sorry indeed that he had made any complaint to his mother; for he
knew that by doing so, he had given her trouble, instead of being a
comfort and help to her, in the midst of her sorrows. Besides, he had
broken his resolution; for he had most firmly resolved not to complain;
he had yielded to the strong impulse of the moment, and now he was
afraid he never should gain self-control. But there was nothing to be
done, but to make stronger efforts to be contented and useful in his new
home. He humbly asked God to enable him to do better, and to pardon the