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was the kind that makes one feel like joining in and soon young Dallas was giggling feebly. Then he too burst into a jolly peal. Tears ran down his cheeks. "Oh! Uncle," he said, getting out his handkerchief which was white and clean like a girl's, "I don't know what I'm laughing at."

"Neither do I," said his uncle, and then they both laughed harder than ever until at last I felt my own lips curling.

"You're such a funny lad," said the man after a time, wiping his eyes and then laying a hand kindly on the boy's head. "You take me back to the days of my youth when I used to play with your dear mother. There were just the two of us. Oh! you are like her, so much like her. Boy, she used to lie too in her young days, but never to me, only to persons she was afraid of."

"I don't lie to you," said Dallas seriously, "I don't want to."

"Are you afraid of my children that you tell stories to them?"

"N-no, not exactly. I want to please them."

"Oh!" said Mr. Devering, "that fatal wish to please. It has slain its millions."

"I love to see boys and girls comfortable in their minds," said Dallas wistfully.

"And if they expect you to know how to do a thing you lie to gratify them--but when they find you out--then they're not happy."

Dallas said nothing and his uncle went on, "When I was a boy there was a weak-minded lad living near us. The children all picked at him. The grown-ups were always after us for it. Do you catch my meaning?"

Dallas hung his head. "Yes, my Uncle. The weak go to the wall. I've read that in history."

"Now my children know you have weak points. They'll play on them. We must stop them. You want to be a decent man, don't you?"


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