282

heartily that the last one was toasted
before she and Luce were satisfied.

“Now I must go home as fast as I
can,” she cried, seeing that the sun was
almost down. “ What will mother think?”

“You needn’t tell her where you been,”
says Luce. “You can tell her that—”

“ Yes, tell her where ye took supper, and
was treated to the best, and no harm
come to ye,”said the woman. “I thought
you was run away, all the time. You
an’t so proud yet, but your ma’am would
have cut her hand off, rather than set
down to table with me, I warrant you.”

“I wish I knew the way home,” said
Amy, sighing,

“Luce, go along with her,” said the
old woman.

Amy started for home, with her new
companion. She fancied every person
who met them stared to see her in such
company. As.she came near home, she
found there was quite a hue and cry in

the neighborhood, her brothers and sisters _
haying been sent in every direction in.
search of her. Her cup of mortification.
was full, to hear Luce answer every in-—

quiry with triumph. '

“The lost is found, safe and sound.

She's only been over to our ‘us, taking
tea.”

Mrs, Cunningham, Amy’s mother, re-
fused to employ Luce any more, and
reproached her with having misled Amy,
who was several years younger than her-
self.
“All the thanks poor folks get,” mut-
tered Luce, “ T’ve took good care on her,
give her a first rate supper, and fetched
her home, that’s all. I never asked her
to go along with me.”

: THE YOUTH’S CABINET.
NT  eentcperinnemitentinere teense mT ii

Amy was very hungry, and having
resolved just to taste the crackers, ate so

“Why, Amy!” said her mother, in a
low voice. “Have you been eating the
bread of those who have not enough for
themselves! That is not like you!”

Amy went sobbing to hide herself in
bed. Luce was sent home, with a load
of provisions, and forbidden to come to
the house again.

Though there was ‘not a little silent
smiling and winking at Amy’s downcast
looks and burning cheeks, when the family
met at breakfast, no one said a word to
add to her unhappiness. Neither did her
sisters, who were also her school-mates,
say anything about their Saturday after-
noon school. Amy listened when she
heard them talking together, hoping to
catch a word or two to relieve her curiosity
about it, but in vain. Once something
was said about “beautiful feathers,” but
the speaker checked herself, with an air
of mystery, looking roguishly at Amy. |
Monday morning came, and Amy went
to school, She did not go with her
sisters, as usual; she followed a little way
behind, with her finger in her mouth.

“Good morning, Amy; how did you
enjoy the afternoon, Saturday ?” asked the
teacher, as Amy sidled in at the door,
and slunk to her seat.

“Not at all. I wish I had been at
school, I am sure. J'll come next time.

| Or, Pll come next Wednesday, all alone,

if you will let me, Miss Eliza.” ‘Will you
let me come.”

“You may come, and welcome, put I
shall not be able to show you what the
girls saw on Saturday. They were not
mine, and are sent home.”

“I do not know what the girls saw.
They did not tell me. Did they write,
and cipher, and draw ?”

“A friend offered to lend me Audu-