Kate put on her bonnet, and taking the pail of milk, hastened towards the house of the poor sick woman. But she had gone but a little way when she met Fanny Flynn, who was an idle girl, and very fond of mischief.

"Where are you going, Kate?" asked Fanny.

"I am going down to Mrs. O'Brien's with some milk."

"Give me a drink—will you?

"I can't; it is for the poor widow's children. I suppose they won't have any supper till they get this milk."

"Yes, they will. I won't drink but a little of it."

"No, I can't give you any. It would not be right for me to do so."

"Pooh! You needn't pretend to be so good all at once. You are no better than I am."

"I didn't say I was. Only I shall not give you any of this milk, when it is for the poor woman's children; so you needn't ask me," replied Kate, with a great deal of spirit.

Some people think, when they do any thing that is right, they ought to make a great parade over it; but this only shows that they are not much in the habit of doing right, and they wish to get all the credit they can for it.

It was so with Kate. She ought to have been content with merely doing her duty, without "talking large" about it. Fanny felt that she was just as good as Kate, and she was angry when the latter made a needless show of her intention to do what she believed to be right.

"I don't want it," said Fanny.

"What did you ask me for it for, then? You wanted to make me do something that was wrong."

"You are not always so nice," sneered Fanny.

"I don't mean to do wrong, anyhow, as some folks do."

"Do you mean me?"

"No matter whom I mean."

Fanny was so angry that she walked up to Kate and pulled her "shaker" down over her face. She also used some naughty words when she did so, which I will not repeat.

Kate, in her turn, was very angry with the saucy girl, and wanted to "pay" her for what she had done. But Fanny did not wait for any reply, and ran away just as fast as she could.

It would have been much better for Kate if she had let her go; but she was so angry she could not do this; she wanted to strike back again. Without thinking of the milk in the pail, she started to run after the naughty girl.

For a few moments she ran with all her might, and had nearly caught Fanny, when a stone tripped her up, and she fell upon the ground.

Then she thought of the milk, and tried to save it; but the cover of the kettle came off, and it was all spilled on the ground.

The fall did not hurt her, but the laugh with which her misfortune was greeted by Fanny roused a very wicked spirit in her heart, and dropping the pail, which she had picked up, she pursued her.

But the naughty girl had the start of her, and though she followed her a good way she could not overtake her. Then she stopped in the path, and cried with anger and vexation. The thought of the milk which had been spilled, was, after all, the worst part of the affair.

Walking back to the place where the accident had happened, she picked up the pail again, and began to think what she should do. It was of no use now for her to go to Mrs. O'Brien's. She had no milk for the children's supper.

What would her mother say to her if she should return home and tell her she had spilled all the milk? She had told her to be careful, and she felt that she had been very careless.

It was not necessary that she should chase the naughty girl, whatever she said; and she could not help seeing that she had been very careless. While she was thinking about it, Ben Tinker came along. He lived in the next house to Mr. Lamb, and the children were well acquainted with each other.

"What is the matter with you, Kate?" asked Ben, when he saw that her eyes were red, and her face was wet with tears.

"I have just spilled a pailful of milk on the ground," sobbed Kate.

"O, well, it's no use to cry for spilled milk," laughed Ben.

"I was carrying it to Mrs. O'Brien."

"No matter; she will get along very well without it."

"That ugly Fanny Flynn struck me on the head, and that's what made me spill the milk."

"Didn't you hit her back?"

"I couldn't catch her; she ran away. I was chasing her when I fell down and spilled the milk."

"You can catch her some time; when you do, give it to her."

But Kate had got over her anger, and heartily wished she had not attempted to catch Fanny. Besides, she very well knew that Ben was giving her bad advice.

That passage from the New Testament, "If any man smite thee on the one cheek, turn to him the other also," came to her mind, and she felt how wicked it was to harbor a desire for revenge.

The loss of the milk, and what would follow when she went home, gave her more trouble than the injury she had received from the naughty girl.

"I don't know what I shall do," said she, beginning to cry again, as she thought of her mother.

"Do? you can't do any thing—can you? The milk is gone, and all you have to do is to go home," replied Ben.

"What will my mother say?"

"No matter what she says, if she don't whip you or send you to bed without your supper."

"She won't whip me, and I have been to supper."

"Then what are you crying about?"

"Mother says I am very careless; and I know I am," whined Kate.

"Don't be a baby, Kate."

"I spoiled a flower this afternoon, and mother scolded me and shook me for it. She told me to be very careful with this milk, and now I have spilled the whole of it."

"Well, if you feel so bad, why need you tell her any thing about it?"

"About what?" asked Kate, looking up into his face, for she did not quite understand him.

"You needn't tell her you spilled the milk. She will never find it out."

"But she will ask me."

"What if she does? Can't you tell her you gave the milk to the old woman, and that she was very much obliged to her for sending it?"

"I can do that," said Kate.

She did not like the plan, but it seemed to her just then that any thing would be better than telling her mother that she had spilled the milk; and, wicked as it was, she resolved to do it.