WHITE AND CLEAN.

"C-H-E-S-T-E-R!" It was his mother's voice, and it rang out from her room in the second story. "Only half an hour until school-time."

"Yes'm," shouted Chester. "I'll be there." But he bent over the tub and rubbed Sport so fiercely that he howled.

"Keep still, sir," said Chester. "A dog who can't stand being washed shouldn't have white feet and a white nose; I'm not going to have you trotting around looking so horrid dirty as you have for a week. Look here, sir; don't you try to bite me. If you do, you'll get a whipping. I'm in a hurry."

Rub, rub, souse, souse!

Poor Sport shivered, and howled, and struggled, and looked as though he would never feel equal to his name again: but Chester splashed away.

His mother opened her window again.

"My son, you shouldn't have begun with the dogs this morning; you knew it was late. Let Sport go at once, and leave Beauty until to-night."

THE CAUSE OF A POOR ARITHMETIC LESSON.

"O, mamma! I cannot possibly leave Beauty. He looks worse than Sport did."

"Can't help it, my boy. You will be late to school, and have a poor lesson."

"I'm coming, mamma, right away."

Out went Sport to the piece of carpet with which he was rubbed; glad was he to get out of that horrible tub at any cost. But in went Beauty, and the soaping, and howling, and splashing, and scolding went on again. Chester worked fast, no doubt—although I suppose Beauty did not think so—but before his work was half done, the window of his mother's room went up with a click that meant business.

"Chester, put that dog on the ground and come here immediately."

Which Chester immediately did, shaking the soapy drops from him as he went.

I suppose you are not surprised to hear that half an hour afterwards, in the arithmetic class, he said that seven times eight was ninety-four, and insisted that such was the case, even after half the girls in the class were laughing over it. This is about a specimen of the way in which he knew his entire lesson. Of course he sat gloomily in his seat during recess, with his arithmetic upside down.

"Chester," his teacher asked, "how is it that you failed on your lesson this morning?"

"I didn't have time to study it, sir."

"Is that so?" said Mr. Pierson. He thought a great deal of Chester, who, to tell you the truth, generally had his lesson. His mother often had trouble about it, but the teacher rarely had. "I think I'll have to excuse you," his teacher said kindly, "if you really had not the time to learn it. You may make it up to-morrow."

And Chester went to the playground with a hurrah on his lips. He seemed to be very happy the rest of the day. When he went home, he was full of play, and greeted the dogs with words of praise for keeping themselves looking so well.

"Your nose is almost as clean as it was this morning, when you fought so hard against my washing it, you ungrateful fellow!" he said to Sport.

A very happy boy he was all the evening. He went to bed happy. He knelt down in his white night-suit and said "Our Father," and then hopped into bed with a whistle, and the next minute was asleep.

Poor Chester! Why? Oh, to be a boy who disobeyed his mother, and told two falsehoods, and yet to think so little of it all that he could go to bed whistling, without even having asked to be forgiven, is to be a boy who needs pity.

Two falsehoods? Yes, indeed! Didn't he say to his mother, "I'm coming right away," and go on with his work that she had directed him to leave? Didn't he tell the teacher he "hadn't time," when the truth would have been that he chose to take the time which belonged to the arithmetic for something else?

White and clean! Oh, yes, that is what the dogs were; clean as to their consciences for that matter, if they had any; for I believe they acted as well as they knew how all that day. But how was it with Chester's heart?