I doubt if Joachim heard the latter part of his Mother’s speech.  At the recurrence to the old sentence, a gleam of lightning seemed to shoot across his brain.  Latent memories were aroused as keenly as if the events had but just occurred, and he sank at his Mother’s feet.

When she ceased to speak, he arose.

“Mother,” said he, “I have been living in a cloud.  I have been very wrong.  Besides which, I have a secret to tell you.  Nay, my Aunt may hear.  It has been a secret, and then it has been forgotten; but now I remember all, and understand far more than I once did.”

Here Joachim recounted to his Mother the whole story of her words to him, and his adventure with the Genie and the bottle; and then, very slowly, and interrupted by many tears of repentance, he repeated what the Genie had said about giving him the power of imitation, adding that the use he made of it must depend on himself and the great Ruler of the heart and conscience.

There was a great fuss among the Cousins at the notion of Joachim having talked to a Genie; and, to tell you the truth, this was all they thought about, and soon after took their leave.  The heart of Joachim’s Mother was at rest, however:  for though she knew how hard her son would find it to alter what had become a habit of life, she knew that he was a good and pious boy, and she saw that he was fully alive to his error.

“Oh Mother,” said he, during the course of that evening, “how plain I see it all now!  The boy that stutters is a model of obedience and tenderness; I ought to have dwelt upon and imitated that, and, oh!  I thought only of his stuttering.  The boy that walks so clumsily, as well as the great fellow that lisps, are such industrious lads, and so advanced in learning, that the master thinks both will be distinguished hereafter; and I, who—­(oh, my poor mother, I must confess to you)—­hated to labour at any thing, and have got the boys to do my lessons for me;—­I, instead of imitating their industry, lost all my time in ridiculing their defects.—­What shall—­what shall I do!”

The next morning poor Joachim said his prayers more humbly than he had ever before done in his life; and, kissing his mother, went to school.  The first thing he did on arriving was to go up to the big boy, who had beaten him, and beg him to shake hands.

The big boy was pleased, and a grim smile lightened up his face.  “But, old fellow,” said he, laying his hand on Joachim’s shoulder, “take a friend’s advice.  There is good in all of us, depend upon it.  Look out for all that’s good, and let the bad points take care of themselves. You won’t get any handsomer, by squinting like poor Joe; nor speak any pleasanter for lisping like me; nor walk any better for apeing hobbling.  But the ugliest of us have some good about us.  Look out for that, my little lad; I do, or I should not be talking to you!  I see that you are honest and forgiving, though you are a monkey!  There now, I must go on with my lessons!  You do yours!”