“I need ask you no more questions,” said their father.  “The truth is that I was calling on old Mrs. Brown when you stopped under the apple tree, and I saw the whole thing from her window.  You don’t know how sorry I felt when I found that my boy and girl couldn’t be trusted.  I saw that you had lost something, and after you had left I examined the grass about the stone and found the other gold piece.  But I shall have to punish you by putting the money away for a whole month.  At the end of that time I will return it to you, if I find that you are obedient meanwhile.  I do not intend to be severe, but I think that ordinarily you are good children, and I understand how strong the temptation was.  Are you not sorry that you yielded to it?”

“Yes, sir, we are,” exclaimed both children, emphatically.

“And now, what am I going to do about the mail-bag?  Can I let you have it after this?”

“Yes, father, you can,” they both replied once more; and after that they were always worthy of their trust.

When Aunt Maria made her next visit they told her the story of their misdoing.  Her only comment was:  “You see, children, that it is necessary always to pray, ‘Deliver us from evil,’ for even when we want to do right, without help from above, we shall fail.”

A Day’s Fishing.

BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.

Six lively boys had been spending their vacation at Clovernook Farm, and, as any one may imagine, they had been having the liveliest sort of a time.

There were Mr. Hobart’s two nephews, James and Fred; and Mrs. Hobart’s two nephews, John and Albert, and two others, Milton and Peter, who, though only distant cousins, were considered as part of the family.

To tell of all the things that these six had been doing during the eight weeks of their stay would be to write a history in several volumes.  They had had innumerable games of tennis and croquet; had fished along the banks of streams; helped in the harvest field; taken straw-rides by moonlight; traveled many scores of miles on bicycles; taken photographs good and bad; gone out with picnic parties; learned to churn and to work butter; picked apples and eaten them, and they had plenty of energy left still.

The climax of their enjoyment was reached on the very last day of their visit.  Mr. Hobart had promised to take them for a day’s fishing on a lake about ten miles distant from his house.  On this fair September day he redeemed his promise.  A jolly load set out in the gray of the early morning, equipped with poles, lines, bait, and provisions enough for the day.  Having no other way to give vent to their spirits, they sang college songs all along the road.  Of course, they surprised many an early riser by their vigorous rendering of familiar airs.  Even cows and chickens and horses and pigs gazed at them with wondering eyes, as if to say, “Who are these noisy fellows, disturbing our morning meditations?”