e kissed his parent's hand and bathed it
in tears of gratitude, he felt the first moment of pleasure he had known
for three long weeks.

Though all were glad to see Laurence forgiven, no one could be merry;
and it was the first grave birthday that had ever been known in the
family. The globes were covered up and sent into Mr. Clayton's library:
for though he could forgive, it would not have been right to have
rewarded Laurence, as if he had not done wrong. But that day twelvemonth
came, and then Laurence deserved the globes and the love and praise of
every one for his diligence and goodness throughout the year. Whenever
he was tempted to do wrong, he remembered that one error often becomes
the source of many others, and carefully avoided committing the first
fault. His journal was kept faithfully, and all the days in it were
happy days; and on his eleventh birthday Laurence could play and dance
with a light heart and a clear conscience.

The Basket of Plumbs[1]

A poor girl, whose face was pale and sickly, and who led a little ragged
child by the hand, came up one day to the door of a large house, and,
seeing a boy standing there, said to him, 'Do, pray, sir, ask your mamma
to buy these plumbs. There are four dozen in my basket.' George Loft
took the basket to his mother, who counted the plumbs, and finding them
right in number and that they were sound, good fruit, sent out to know
the price. The girl asking more than Mrs. Loft thought they were worth,
she put the plumbs again into the basket, and told George to carry them
back, and say it did not suit her to buy them.

Now these plumbs were fresh picked from the tree; they had a fine bloom
on them, and were very tempting to the eye. George loved plumbs above
all other fruit, and he walked very slowly from the parlour with his
eyes fixed on the basket. The longer he looked, the more he wished to
taste them. One plumb, he thought, would not be missed; and as he put
his hand in to take that one, two others lay close under his fingers. It
was as easy to take three as one, and the three plumbs were taken and
put into his pocket. When he reached the hall door and gave the basket
back to the girl, his face was as red as a flame of fire, but she did
not notice it, nor thought of counting her plumbs; for how could she
suppose any one in _that_ house would be so mean as to take from _her_
little store!

It chanced that as the girl turned from the door, Mrs. Loft cam