CHAPTER II.

MAURICE'S TOOTHACHE.

MRS. SEYTON did not expect that her son would conquer his old habit in a day, nor a week. She truly rejoiced that he had learned even by one day's experience the pleasure and reward of "patient continuance in well doing;" and she encouraged him by every means in her power. Before the close of the week, however, he began to return to his old habit, repeating over and over again, in querulous tones,—

"It's so hard, mamma, I can't learn it. Mamma, this name isn't on the map."

"Have you looked thoroughly?"

"I think I have; but the print is so fine."

Or he would declare half-a-dozen times,—

"I've learned it, mamma; will you please hear me, and let me go and play?"

When the truth was, that he had not given the lesson one moment of real, patient study.

A few weeks after this, Maurice came to his mamma's chamber in the middle of the night, crying with the toothache.

The lady, like a kind mother as she was, instantly arose and applied some balsam to the decayed spot, stuffed in some cotton to keep the air out, took him into her own bed, and told him to try and go to sleep.

But the child was thoroughly roused, and the pain being somewhat relieved, he wanted to talk. His papa and mamma were very sleepy. When he found they did not answer he would cry out again,—

"Oh, my tooth! How it does ache! It's awful bad, mamma!"

"Try to bear it as patiently as you can," urged mamma, softly. "If you keep still, you'll fall asleep and forget the pain. You know papa has to go to town very early to-morrow."

But Maurice did not feel inclined to bear it patiently. He thought his father and mother and the whole family ought to be doing something to make him better: if he couldn't sleep, he thought they ought to keep awake too.

At last, his father, quite worn out with his complaints, went off to another room; his mother sung a soothing lullaby and toward morning he fell into a sound slumber.

"Come, Maurice," said Mr. Seyton, at breakfast, "I'm going to take you into town with me. The dentist will soon cure your toothache."

"Oh, papa!" screamed the boy, holding his face with both hands. "Please don't; it doesn't ache at all, now."

"Let me look at it."

Maurice reluctantly opened his mouth.

"There is a small decayed spot," he said to his wife; "but nothing to make such a fuss about as he did last night. The dentist will either fill it or take it out."

"Pull it, do you mean, papa? Oh, I can't have it pulled!"

"Hush that, now! You made enough noise last night to have a dozen teeth pulled."

"I wont say another word, papa, if it aches again. I'll stay in bed, and try to go to sleep."

"All very fine, I dare say; but I can't risk being kept awake half the night, and made unfit for business by the headache; and there's your mamma too, who sang herself hoarse because you wouldn't put a little patience into exercise; and now her eyes look terribly inflamed, with the gas burning directly in her face. Come, eat your breakfast quick; I'm in a hurry."

The boy's plate was piled with fritters; and he was very fond of syrup on them; but his mamma cautioned him that the sweet might make his tooth ache again.

"I don't believe it will," he exclaimed. "It's all well now."

"Take syrup, if you like," said his father, "but if your teeth aches, don't let us hear a word of complaint."

He had scarcely taken the first mouthful when he gave a shriek, and ran away from the table. He had no appetite for any more cakes, and in a few minutes found himself on his way to town.