"Yes, dear, I belong to the Friends, as we call them." "And they, won't they ever fight ?" demanded the boy anxiously.
"They do not believe that fighting with fists, or sticks, or like wild beasts," said his mother, "ever wins anything worth while." "Never, mother ?" cried the boy, anxiety and fear in his tones.

"You would fight, you would fight to-night, you would fight the Rector." "Yes, my boy," said his mother quietly, "that kind of fighting we believe in.

Our people have never been afraid to stand up for the right, and to suffer for it too.

Remember that, my boy," a certain pride rang out in the mother's voice.

She continued, "We must never be afraid to suffer for what we believe to be right.