"Come, now! None of that!" said the cruel father sternly. "Stop your
crying instantly, or I will give you something to cry for! A pretty
state of things, indeed, when every word must be answered by a fit
of crying!"

The poor child choked down her feelings as best she could, turning
as she did so from her father; that he might not see the still
remaining traces of her grief which it was impossible at once to
hide.

Not a single dollar had the idle, drunken father earned during the
week, that he had not expended in self-indulgence; and yet, in his
brutality, he could roughly chide this little girl, yet too young
for the taskmaster, because she had lost half a dollar of her week's
earnings through an accident, the very nature of which he would not
hear explained. So grieved was the poor child at this unkindness,
that when supper was on the table she shrunk away from the room.

"Come, Anna, to your supper," called the mother.

"I don't wish any thing to eat," replied the child, in a faint
voice.

"Oh, yes; come and get something."

"Let her alone!" growls the father. "I never humor sulky children.
She doesn't deserve any supper."

The mother sighs. While the husband eats greedily, consuming,