Io

A TARDY CONFESSION.

HE apples were gone. That was clear.
But how, and where, and when had they
gone? That was a puzzle; and Farmer
Harty, being a poor hand at conundrums
was inclined to give it up. He stood be-
neath the stripped apple-tree in the orchard,
and scratched his head in a perplexed sort of way. Suddenly
an idea occurred to him, which, however, was evidently not
to his taste. “No!” he said, “I don’t believe they'd do it.
Rascals they may be, but thieves mever/” and he brought
his big stick down with a thump that made his sleepy old
dog get up in a hurry. ‘“ But I'll see! I'll see!”

Then he walked over to the school-house, where a short
conversation with the master resulted in every boy being
asked two plain questions, to which two unvarying replies
were given until it came to Sid Mason’s turn. ‘“ Now, Sid,”
said the master, “did you steal the apples?” ‘No, sir!”
“Do you know who did?” “Yes, sir!” Every boy in the
school held his breath. ‘Who was it?” “I cannot tell
you, sir!” The boys gasped. ‘Then you must bear the
punishment,” said the master grimly, reaching for his cane.
But just as the first stroke was about to be given somebody
shrieked, ‘“‘ Don't, sir! I did it!” And out from his place
came big Willie Thompson.

Willie was indeed the culprit. He received the punish-
ment he deserved, and a severe lecture into the bargain. Let
us hope both did him good. As for Sid, the boys made a
hero of him. But whether he was right in acting as he did
is an open question. What is your opinion, little reader ?