on his
way home from school that day.

He did not go home in company with the rest of the boys and girls who
went in the same direction. He was in the habit of doing so. But he
felt so much ashamed on account of what he had done, that he could not
bear to see the faces of any of the children.

Instead of taking the public road that led directly to his father's
house, he went through the gate that led into Deacon Stark's pasture,
and followed the cart-path through the woods. It was a great deal
farther that way. But he went through the woods so as to get clear of
his playmates. One of the deacon's hired men saw the boy, leaning
against the fence, just at the edge of the woods. Poor fellow! he was
crying, as if his heart would break. So the man said. Jake got the
worst of it, in that affair. Don't you think he did?

But I have not got through with the story yet, and I must go on with
it.

[Illustration: A CRYING SPELL.]

Time passed on--days, weeks, and even months, came and went--but
Mike did not "pay off" the boy who had so unjustly abused him. His
companions urged him to do it, until they got out of patience, and
concluded to give the matter up.

As for Jake, it was as much as he could do to look Mike in the face.
He avoided him, as much as possible, and seemed to be unhappy whenever
he came near him. But Mike, on his part, treated the boy who had
injured him just as if nothing had happened.

I have often noticed, that where there has been any difficulty
between two persons, the one who was at fault is more apt to cherish
unkind feelings than the one who was innocent. It was so in this case.
Jacob treated Michael as if it were Michael rather than himself, who
had been in the wrong. He never spoke to him, when he could help it;
and when he did say any thing to him, he spoke peevishly, and pressed
the words between his teeth, as if he had the lockjaw.

One day, during that interesting season of the year when the farmers
are busy making hay, Jake had occasion to pass through Mr. Marble's
meadow, with his fishing rod, on his way to the "deep hole," where, as
every body in the neighborhood knew, multitudes of sun fish and perch
were always to be found, ready for a nice bit of an angle-worm.

Jake, being a little thirsty--for it was a very warm day--went up to
the tree under which Mr. Marble kept the refreshments for his hired
men, and took up the wooden bottle to drink. There was nothing wrong,
perhaps, in t