“What new experiment are you trying, my son?” asked Mr. Willard, as he entered his pleasant parlor late in the afternoon of a day in early spring, unperceived by his little son Arthur, who was busily employed in tying up several small packages which lay on the table before him.

Arthur looked up at his father with a bright smile; for Mr. Willard always took a great interest in the amusements of his children, and they were in the habit of consulting him and asking his assistance in many of their sports.

“Don’t tell Willie and Jane, father,” said Arthur, “and I will tell you all about it. You know to-morrow will be the first day of April, and I expect to have a fine time playing tricks upon people. There is nothing in these parcels but little chips and stones. I shall put one of them upon Jane’s table after she is asleep to-night; and she will be sure to open it the first thing in the morning. I expect she will think that Uncle Samuel or Aunt Mary were here in the evening, and brought her a nice little present. Then I shall drop another package where Willie will find it when he goes to feed his chickens. What a hurry he will be in to pick it up!

“And, father,” continued Arthur, “you do not know what a nice joke I shall play upon Susan! Sometimes, when I get up early in the morning, and she is in a hurry getting breakfast, I go to Mr. Conant’s for the milk. Now, to-morrow morning I mean to be up very early, before Susan leaves her room. Then I will take the milk-pail, and put a quart of water into it, and set it in the place where I usually put it when I bring the milk. When Susan comes into the kitchen, she will see the pail on the table, and, finding it heavy, will suppose I have been for the milk. So she will say, ‘O, Arthur! you are a good boy to bring my milk;’ and then she will take off the cover to pour it into the pitcher. How I shall laugh at her when she finds it is water!”

Mr. Willard smiled a little as Arthur clapped his hands at the thought of Susan’s vexation: but in a moment he looked grave, and, seating himself in his rocking-chair, he drew his little son close to his side, and said, kindly,—

“Do the angels try to make people happy or unhappy, Arthur?”

“Happy, father,” replied the boy, looking wonderingly in his father’s face.

“Then you are not trying to do like the angels,—are you, Arthur. You mean to vex people, and make them unhappy.”

Arthur blushed, and looked very thoughtful; and his father continued,—

“Jane and Willie and Susan will all feel somewhat vexed and displeased at your jokes,—will they not, my son?”

“Yes, sir, I suppose they will,” answered Arthur; “but, then, I want to have a little fun on April Fool’s Day.”

“It is poor fun to make others unhappy. I have no objection to your playing jokes or tricks, as you call them, upon your brother and sister and Susan; but I should like to have you think of something which would please them, instead of making them vexed.”

“But, father, I cannot think of any tricks of that kind.”

“I will help you a little, Arthur, and then you will understand what I mean. We will take the trick which you intended to play upon Susan, for instance. Now, if, instead of putting water in the pail, and deceiving her by making her think it is milk, you should rise early, and really bring her the milk, you might still have a pleasant joke by putting the pail in the place where it usually stands when it is empty, instead of on the table where you leave it when it is filled. Then Susan will be greatly surprised when she takes it up, intending to go for the milk.”

Arthur’s face grew very bright again.

“Oh, yes, father! I shall like that plan very much: it is much better than my own. And how shall I manage about Willie and Jane?”

“Try to think of some way yourself, Arthur. Only remember to have your joke of a kind that will give pleasure, and not pain.”

“I know of a grand trick to play upon Jane, father, if you will let me run to the shop and spend my bright half-dollar that my grandfather gave me. Jane has a hole in her thimble, and she pricked her finger sadly to-day. Now, I can buy a nice new thimble for her, and take her old one from her work-basket, and put the new one in its place. How surprised she will be! May I do this, father?”

“If you feel willing to spend your money for your sister, I shall be glad to have you do so, Arthur.”

“I am willing, father. And now for Willie; what shall I do for him? I think I must drop a little parcel where he will pick it up, father; but I will not put sticks and stones in it. I have some nice candies in my pocket, which a boy at school gave me. Willie does not know that I have them; and I will put them into his paper. How he will wonder where they came from!”

Mr. Willard felt much pleased to see how readily Arthur followed his advice; and the little boy himself felt far happier now that his plans for the jokes of the next day were all of a kind to make others happy.

The thimble was bought; the package of candy tied up, and carefully placed where Willie would be sure to find it. Every thing succeeded quite to Arthur’s satisfaction. He awoke very early, and, stealing softly from the house, brought the milk, and replaced the pail in the closet.

Susan came out of her room somewhat later than usual, and hurried around, fearful that her breakfast would not be ready at the appointed hour. She did not observe Arthur, who had seated himself where he thought he should be unnoticed, that he might enjoy her surprise. He came very near laughing aloud when he heard Susan exclaim, as she hastily tied on her bonnet and ran to the closet,—

“Oh, dear, I must go for the milk! I was so in hopes that Arthur would have got it for me this morning!”

Arthur held his hand tightly over his mouth; but when he saw Susan lift the pail up suddenly, and then quickly take off the cover to see what made it so heavy, he could no longer keep quiet, but with a merry laugh bounded from his hiding-place, exclaiming,—

“Now, Susan, didn’t I tell you I would play a trick on you to-day?”

Susan smiled pleasantly, and said she did not care how many tricks he played on her if they were all as good as that.

Next came Willie, full of wonder at the contents of the package which he had found in the box where he kept the corn for his chickens.

“Only think, Arthur,” said he; “the door of the chicken-house was locked, so no one could have got in last night, and yet I feel sure that this was not there when I fed the chickens at supper-time. Such nice candy! Do you think it will be right for us to eat it, or must we try to find out to whom it belongs?”

There was such a roguish look on Arthur’s face, as he replied that he thought there would be no harm in eating it, that Willie began to understand the joke; and, well pleased, he divided the candy with his brother and sister.

But Arthur felt still more pleased when little Jane took up her work-basket with a sigh, saying,—

“I will try to hem the handkerchief you wish me to, mother; but my thimble has such a great hole in it, that the head of my needle pricks my finger every few minutes.”

What a joyful surprise,—to find the old thimble missing, and a bright new one in its place! It would have been hard to tell which felt the most pleased, Jane or Arthur. Both were delighted; and we are very sure that Arthur did not once regret that he had spent his half-dollar for his sister’s pleasure.

When evening came, and Mr. Willard was at leisure to sit down with his children, Arthur had many funny stories to tell of the pleasant jokes which he had played through the day.

Charley Mason, one of his schoolmates, had torn a large hole in his kite when they were flying it at recess. At noon, he hurried home for his dinner; intending, if possible, to return in season to mend the kite, and have another play, before school commenced in the afternoon. Arthur, having brought his dinner with him in the morning, was not obliged to return home; and he carefully mended the kite while Charley was absent.

“It was such fun to see him turn it over and over, and look for the hole!” continued Arthur, as he told the story to his father; “and Johnny Gardiner looked almost as funny when he found a long slate-pencil in his desk, which I had slyly slipped in, just as he had made up his mind to go and tell the teacher the old story,—that he had no pencil. Johnny does not like to tell Miss Grant that very well, for he is famous for losing his pencil.

“And, father, I played a nice joke on Miss Grant. She thought I could not learn so long a lesson in geography as she had given to the rest of the class, because I am younger than the others, and have never been through the book before. So she told me to take half of the lesson; but I studied hard, and learned the whole. When we were reciting, she stopped when she had heard about half, and said, ‘You may take your seat now, Arthur.’

“‘Thank you, ma’am,’ I answered; ‘but I can say it all.’

“Then she looked surprised, and said I must have worked very hard.

“But, father, that book is too hard for me; and Miss Grant told me to ask you to buy one more suitable. I wish you would, father: I love to study geography. Henry Williams has such a beauty! all full of pictures. Oh, how I should like one like that!”

“We must think about it,” replied Mr. Willard. “And now, Arthur, I must attend to some writing for a little while, and you may look over your lessons for to-morrow.”

“Yes, father, my geography: I always have to study that in the evening.” And, with a little sigh, Arthur went for his satchel of books. But it was now his turn to find a pleasant joke; for the old geography had been taken from the bag, and in its place was one exactly like the “beauty” owned by Henry Williams, upon the blank leaf of which was written, “Arthur Willard; from his father, April first, eighteen hundred fifty-six.”