“CARROTS.”

  
      

I think it is so in life. Suddenly, often quite:

   

unknowingly, we turn a corner sometimes of

 
 

our history, sometimes of our characters, and

 
 

looking back long afterwards, we make a date

 
 

of that point. It was so just now with my little
Carrots. This trouble of his about the half-

sovereign changed him. I do not mean to say

      
        
   

that it saddened him, and made him less happy
than he had been, —at his age, thank God!
few, if any, children have it in them to be so:

   
 

    
   
 

yay
_ ee
POs “hen

      
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

2 deeply affected,—but it changed him. It was
y &= his first peep out into life, and it gave him his

first real thoughts about things. It made him
see how a little wrong-doing may cause great
sorrow; it gave him his first vague, misty
glimpse of that, to my thinking, saddest of all
sad things — the way in which it is possible for
our very nearest and dearest to mistake and

misunderstand us.

 

He had been in some ways a good deal of
a baby for his age, there is no doubt. He had
a queer, babylike way of not seeming to take in

ee, RN

quickly what was said to him, and staring up in.