On the following morning the Roydens made early preparations for attending church. The cows were milked and turned away into the pasture; the horses were caught, curried and harnessed; and the great open family carriage was backed out of the barn.

Meanwhile, Hepsy and Sarah washed the boys, combed their hair, and put on their clean clothes. Willie's bright locks curled naturally, and in his white collar and cunning little brown linen jacket he looked quite charming. It was delightful to see him strut and swagger and purse up his red lips with a consciousness of manly trousers, and tell Hepsy to do this and do that, with an air of authority, scowling, now and then, just like his father. Georgie was more careless of his dignity; he declared that his collar choked him, and "darned it all" spitefully, calling upon Sarah to take it off, that he might go without it until meeting-time, at any rate.

Mrs. Royden busied herself about the house, cleaning up, here and there, with her usual energy of action.

"Come, wife!" exclaimed her husband, who was shaving at the looking-glass in the kitchen, "you had better leave off now, and get ready. We shall be late."

"I can't bear to leave things all at loose ends," replied Mrs. Royden. "I shall have time enough to change my dress. Hepsy! If you let the boys get into the dirt with their clean clothes, you will deserve a good scolding."

"Isn't Hepsy going to church?" asked Mr. Royden.

"No; she says she had just as lief stay at home; and somebody must take care of the baby, you know."

"If Sam wasn't such a mischief-maker, we might leave the baby with him."

"Dear me! I'd as soon think of leaving it with the cows! And, Hepsy, do you keep an eye on Samuel. Don't let him be cracking but'nuts all day. Where's Lizzie? Is she getting ready?"

"I think she is," replied Hepsy. "She was tending the baby; but that is still now."

"I can't conceive how we are all going to ride," added Mrs. Royden. "I don't know but I had better stay at home. The carriage will be crowded, and it seems as though I had everything to do."

"There will be plenty of room in the carriage," said her husband, taking the razor from his chin, and wiping it on a strip of newspaper. "Father Brighthopes and I can take Lizzie on the front seat with us, and you and Sarah can hold the boys between you. Chester and James are going to walk."

Mrs. Royden continued to work, until she had but a few minutes left in which to get ready. The second bell was ringing, and carriages were beginning to go by.

"Come, wife!" again her husband exclaimed; "we shall be late. There go Mr. Eldridge's folks."

"They are always early," said she, impatiently. "Do let me take my time!"

But Mr. Royden called her attention to the clock.

"Dear me! who would have thought it could be so late?" she cried. "Where the morning has gone to I can't conceive. Hepsy, come and help me slip on my silk dress."

"Willie wants to ride his stick," said Hepsy; "and it is all dirt."

"Willie cannot ride his stick to-day!" exclaimed Mrs. Royden, sharply. "Do you hear?"

Willie began to pout and mutter, "I will, too! so there!" and kick the mop-board.

His mother's morning experience had not prepared her for the exercise of much patience. She rushed upon the little shaver, and boxed his ears violently.

"Do you tell me you will?" she cried. "Take that!"

Willie blubbered with indignation, being too proud to cry outright, with his new clothes on.

"Stop that noise!"

Willie could not stop; and his mother shook him. This was too much for his dignity, and he bawled with open mouth.

"You shall stay at home from meeting!" muttered Mrs. Royden. "Take off his collar, Hepsy!"

"She shan't!" screamed Willie, throwing himself on the defensive. "I'll bite her!"

"Come, come!" said Mr. Royden; "Willie is going to be a good boy, and go to meeting like a man."

"He shall go into the closet, and stay there one hour!" exclaimed his mother, snatching him up roughly.

Willie met with a providential escape. While he was kicking and screaming in his mother's arms, the noise of a dire disaster filled the kitchen, and contributed to drown his cries.

Georgie, reaching up to the water-pail which stood on the sink-shelf, to get a dipper-full of drink, had somehow pulled it over. Its entire contents spouted upon his face, his bosom, his fresh collar and nice clothes, and the pail came with him to the floor. After the shock, and the jar, and a little gasping, he began to shriek. Mrs. Royden dropped Willie, and ran to the rescue. It was well for the drenched boy that his father arrived first at the spot, and lifted him up. Hepsy was terrified; but Sam, who had hobbled to the door, to tell Mr. Royden that the team was ready, laughed till he was too weak to stand.

Mrs. Royden, incensed by the lad's insolence, made a rapid dash at him; but Sam dodged, and rolled down the steps. Willie, diverted from his own woes by the mischance which had befallen his brother, crept into a corner in the sitting-room, where he hid away from his mother's wrath.

How the storm would have ended it is impossible to say, had not Father Brighthopes made his appearance, serene and glowing from his morning devotions.

"Ah! what has happened to my little friend?" he cried, as Mr. Royden held Georgie up to let him drip.

Mr. Royden had kept his temper with astonishing success; but he was on the point of giving way to his irritable feelings. The old man's appearance was timely. The perplexed father remembered a resolution he had made, and was calm in a moment.

"Oh," said he, "Georgie has been taking a big drink at the water-pail. It was rather too much for him."

"Accidents will happen," cried the clergyman, cheerfully. "Bear it bravely, my fine fellow! You will get dry again soon. It helps nothing to cry about it, my little man."

Georgie was hushed almost instantly. He seemed ashamed to make a great ado about his disaster, and smothered his cries into sobs. Meanwhile, Mrs. Royden, with a mighty effort, had controlled her boiling and bursting temper, and hastened to her room.

It was now impossible that Georgie should go to meeting. Hepsy undressed him, while Mrs. Royden got herself ready with nervous haste. All the neighbors bound for church had gone by before the family began to pile into the carriage. Mr. Royden's patience was fast ebbing away.

"Come, come, wife!" he said. "I told you you would be too late."

She flew around confusedly, doing everything amiss, in her hurry.

Three times, when on the point of getting into the carriage, she went back for something she had forgotten. Then Georgie, unwilling to stay at home, began to whimper aloud, and struggle fiercely with Hepsy, who restrained him from running after the family. To make matters worse, the yearling colt got out of the barn-yard, Sam having afforded him an opportunity by leaving the doors open on both sides of the barn. Mr. Royden had to get him back; for it would not do to let him follow the team to church, and Sam, with his lame foot, could not have kept him out of the road.

Mrs. Royden took advantage of this delay to arrange some portion of her dress, which she had neglected in her haste. Her husband had shut the colt up, and returned to the horse-block, before she was ready. His temper was now on the point of bursting forth, as the clergyman saw by his fiery face, knitted brows and quivering lips.

"Calmly, calmly, brother!" said Father Brighthopes, cheerily. "Take it easy. Keep cool. Heat and passion always make bad things worse."

"I know it!" exclaimed Mr. Royden. "I will keep cool."

He laid down the reins, and took his seat quietly on the horse-block, wiping the perspiration from his brow.

"Let affairs take their course," said he. "If we don't get to meeting at all, it will not be my fault. I have done my best."

"Mother, why don't you come?" cried Sarah, impatiently.

Mrs. Royden bustled out of the house, pulling on her gloves. Her husband helped her up very deliberately, then took his seat calmly and coolly with Father Brighthopes. At length they started, Sam holding the large gate open as they drove through.

"Hepsy!" cried Mrs. Royden, looking back.

Mr. Royden stopped the horses.

"You needn't stop. I can tell her what I want to."

"If you have any directions for her, we may as well wait," said he, quietly.

"Drive on, if you are in such a hurry," retorted Mrs. Royden. "I only wanted to tell her something about the spare-rib. I thought I could make her understand."

They now flew over the ground at a rapid rate, until Willie began to scream.

"Oh, my hat! my hat!"

"Father, why don't you stop?" exclaimed Mrs. Royden, grasping her husband's arm.

"Whoa! whoa! What is the matter?"

"Willie's hat has blown off."

This seemed the climax of disasters. Willie's hat lay in the road, already forty yards behind. Mrs. Royden began to scold Sarah for not attending to the strings, and tying them so that it could not be lost.

Meanwhile Mr. Royden, struggling with his temper, got down and went back for the hat. On his return, his wife seized it, and, in no very pleasant mood, put it on Willie's head,—reprimanding Mr. Royden for moving so slowly.

"I have made up my mind that it is best never to be in a hurry," he replied, in a gentle tone.

However, he drove very fast, and arrived at the meeting-house steps shortly after the last peals of the bell died upon the air. Nothing he disliked more than to go in late; but he was a little cheered at seeing the Dustans, who lived so near, roll up to the graveled walks, in their grand carriage, while he was helping his family out.