152 PEEP AT OUR NEIGHBORS.

That night and all the next day, I was
wretched enough. Indeed, I never got
angry with anybody in my life without
being wretched. It is a bad investment,
this getting into a passion, and holding
heat a long time, as a bar of iron does.
f never came across anybody in my
whole life, that said there was any fun in
getting mad. Anger is like a sirocco
wind. There is no good init. It hurts
everything it blows upon. It withers up
all the sweet flowers of the heart.

My father heard of the affair. He did
not say anything to me about it until the
next day. That night, when I kneeled
down with my brother, to say ‘Now I