uttering a single cry. When the family sat down to breakfast, Mr. Tatem
said, "Where is Samson?"

His nephew coolly replied, "I've killed him."

"Killed him!" exclaimed the uncle. "What do you mean?"

"I told him I would kill him if he ever knocked me down again," rejoined
Isaac; "and I _have_ killed him."

They rushed out in the utmost consternation, and found the young man
entirely senseless. A physician was summoned, and for some time they
feared he was really dead. The means employed to restore him were at
last successful; but it was long before he recovered from the effects of
the blow. When Isaac saw him so pale and helpless, a terrible remorse
filled his soul. He shuddered to think how nearly he had committed
murder, in one rash moment of unbridled rage. This awful incident made
such a solemn and deep impression on him, that from that time he began
to make strong and earnest efforts to control the natural impetuosity of
his temper; and he finally attained to a remarkable degree of
self-control. Weary hours of debility brought wiser thoughts to Samson
also; and when he recovered his strength, he never again misused it by
abusing his companions.

In those days, Isaac did not profess to be a Quaker. He used the
customary language of the world, and liked to display his
well-proportioned figure in neat and fashionable clothing. The young
women of his acquaintance, it is said, looked upon him with rather
favorable eyes; but his thoughts never wandered from Sarah Tatum for a
single day. Once, when he had a new suit of clothes, and stylish boots,