ems you
should rather forbear from using such language before children, whose
minds are like wax, to receive all sorts of impressions--good or bad."

"The truth is," said Mark, "I thought nothing of it. It was wrong, I
know."

To conceal his mortification, he began to brush the dust from the colt's
feet with a wisp of grass. But his cheek was not the only one that
tingled at the old man's words. Chester was very warm in the face; but
only the clergyman observed the fact, and he alone could probably have
understood its cause.

"To tell the truth," said Mark, laughing, "the colt isn't mine; he
belongs to Mr. Skenitt, over on the north road; he has hired me to break
him."

"I don't believe that," replied Mr. Royden, half in jest, and half in
earnest. "Nobody that knows you would trust you to break a young horse."

"Why not?"

"You're so rash and passionate. You can't keep your temper."

"I believe in whipping, when a horse is ugly," muttered Mark, as if half
a mind to take offence,--"that's all."

"You mustn't mind my jokes," said Mr. Royden. "Come, how did you trade?"

"I put away the brown horse, and gave some boot," replied Mark. "By the
way, you haven't heard of any one's losing a horse recently, have you?"

"No; what do you mean?"

"Why, Skennit's boys saw a stray one in the road last night."

"Nobody this way has lost one," said Mr. Royden.

Sam's heart beat with painful violence. He was very pale.

"He was running, with a saddle, and with the reins under his feet,"
continued Mark. "Somebody had probably been flung from him, or he had
got away by breaking the halter."

"Was he stopped?" asked Chester.

"Not in that neighborhood, at any rate. It is hard stopping a horse
after dark. What's the matter, Sam?"

"Nothing," murmured Sam, faintly.

"What makes you look so white?"

"I--I've got a lame foot."

"And I know where you got it?" thundered Chester, seizing him by the
shirt-collar. "It is just as I thought, last night."

"Stop, Chester,--don't be rash!" cried Mr. Royden. "Sam, tell the truth,
now, about that horse."

"I fell off," blubbered Sam.

"You incorrigible, lying rascal!" ejaculated Chester. "Why didn't you
say so last night?"

"I couldn't help it," and Sam wiped his face with his sleeve. "I didn't
run him--and--and he got frightened."

"That has nothing to do with the question. Why didn't you tell the
truth, the first thing?"

"Cause--I wasn't looking out-and he was going o