He would not go to the school, nor even stir beyond the house-door.

He would not open a book.

He would not eat, nor would he even sit at table or say the accustomed grace when the scanty mid-day meal was placed upon the table.

"Nothing is blessed to me," he said, when his wife pressed him to say the words for their child's sake.

"Shall I say that I thank God when my heart is thankless?
Shall I serve my child by a lie ?" Then for hours he sat in the same position, in the old arm-chair, hanging over the fire speechless, sleepless, thinking ever, as she well knew, of the injustice of the world.