his homeward journey. He was making preparations to start, at
the same time boasting how far his horse could trot.

While the man was in the act of mounting, Leslie stood close to one of
the wheels of the cart; he noticed the linchpin was nearly half out;
"What a lark," he thought, "if I were to take the pin wholly out, the
farmer's horse would not trot so very far to-day."

Without another moment's consideration Leslie extracted the pin; but
no sooner was it safe in his hand than he repented the action. Was
this following out his morning's resolution? Was this turning over a
new leaf? He attempted to replace the pin again in its proper
position; the farmer, however, had now gathered the reins into his
hand, and shouted to him to stand clear.

"You young monkey," he cried, "do you wish to be run over," and with
that the horse started. Leslie set off in chase, shouting for the man
to stop; but the farmer, paying no heed to his cries, soon left him
far behind with the abstracted linchpin in his hand. He sat down on a
bank by the road side and burst into tears. What should he do? How
could he remedy what he had done? What would the consequences be? The
wheel might come off, the farmer be thrown out and seriously hurt, or
perhaps killed, and he, Leslie, would then be a murderer.

It was some time before Leslie could make up his mind to return back
to school, he thought it would be best to run away and hide himself
somewhere, in some secret place where no one could find him, or would
ever dream of searching for him. Then he thought he had better go
directly to the doctor and confess what he had done; but this, his
wisest plan, was overruled by the lingering hope in his heart that
perhaps after all the farmer might reach home in safety.

When any one does wrong, it is always best to confess it at once;
concealing the wrong makes it more, adds to the offence, and to the
restless unhappiness of him who committed it. If Leslie had done
this,--fully and frankly confessed his fault--perhaps the result of
his mischief might not have fallen so heavily upon himself.

Two days of wretched anxiety passed. Leslie heard that a farmer
returning home from market had been thrown from his cart and severely
injured, but he could gain no particulars of the accident, how it had
occurred, or who had been the victim. He most fervently trusted that
it was not the consequences of his thoughtlessness; but it was almost
like hoping against hop