112 Turnaside Cottage.

of myself. He took the pig too, and I would not
help him to get it out, though he had no end of
trouble over it—indeed, I was glad it bothered him.
I could hardly bear to pass by the empty stalls for
many days, and at night I missed the quiet move-
ments and soft munching I had been accustomed to
hear. They had been company for me, and now I
felt terribly lonely ; nothing but prayers or hymns
could relieve the feeling.

It was a dreary time, but I think some of it was
my own fault. If I had made home more comfort-
able, and had spoken more kindly to my father, he
would have been more home-staying and more
considerate towards me. I was very anxious about
my father, and set myself to try to turn him from
his bad ways; but it was by reproofs, by grave dis-
approving looks, by grim and determined silence.
I have read in books of such things succeeding, and
even when used by children towards their parents ;
but this Iam sure of, that it is a wrong state of
things, and in real life can answer no good end. I
only turned my father from me.

Every day of this dreary time seems to stand out
distinctly in my memory, but I will not linger over
it. My health, never very strong, became more
weakly, and I often dragged wearily through the
day, and hardly could muster up energy at the