LUNCH IN THE Wvop. (97

you would not do in his presence, you show more
respect to him than you do to your Maker, in whose
presence we always are.” |

The last words Maurice uttered with solemnity, and
a pause followed, which was presently interrupted by
the sound of some one approaching from the meadow
which out-skirted the wood. The boys started, and
looked eagerly in that direction, to ascertain who was
coming to interrupt their retirement.

One figure only appeared. Bob Newton, who was
nearest the meadow, said, “It is Philip Graham, but
_he sees nothing but the book he is reading. He does
not know we are here—but look! Dick, Tom, Frank—
stand here just where Iam. He is now leaning against
a tree. See, he has a cigar in his mouth; and do you
not recognise by the cover of that volume, that it is
no book from Mr, Harding’s library, I am sure? We
know where it came from, de we not?. Mr. Shaw’s
circulating library—plain as the sun. I can tell the
cover of his books as far off as I can see them.”

“So can I,” said Dick; “I am quite sure it is from
Shaw’s. There is your ‘pattern, model boy,’ stealing
off alone to break two of Mr. Harding’s rules. He
little suspects his ‘model’ of such deceit. That is
the way your stiff, long-faced fellows often turn out.”

“Why,” said Bob Newton, “do you remember, Dick,
what a time Mr. Harding had, when I brought that
cigar to school to give you, and set you a few lessons