a
thief; and now, as I had got the nails, I thought I might as well use
them. I was too anxious about the crime, however, to do this at once.
So I hid them away for a week or more, before I ventured to make my box.

Taking such leisure hours as I had,--for I was obliged to work most of
the time on the farm,--I crept away in the loft of an old building, and
finally succeeded in finishing my task. But, now that the box was done,
my troubles were by no means ended. It would be seen. I could not always
keep it out of sight. My brothers, and sisters, and playmates, would
examine it, and possibly my father would get his eye upon it! Suppose he
should, and ask me where those nails came from?

O, how my poor brain was racked to invent some false story by which I
could escape detection! I thought of saying that they were old ones
which I had polished up so as to appear new, and I even filed down the
rust on the head of an old nail to see if they would look sufficiently
alike. But nothing of this kind would answer. The cheat, I thought,
would be detected; and so I was obliged, after all my trouble and
suffering, to keep my box hidden away when it was done. Every time I
went to look at it, those bright new nail-heads were staring out at me,
ready to reveal my crime to any one who saw them.

For a long time, I did not dare to go to my uncles again. True, he knew
nothing of my wrong; but I felt guilty, and did not care to see him.
Finally, after some time had passed away, though I had by no means
forgotten the theft, and still suffered much every time it was thought
of, I ventured to call and see him. I could hardly avoid the impression
that he must know what I had done, and would accuse me of it; and when
he met me in the yard at his door; patted my cheek with a half-laughing,
half-reproving look; asked why I had stayed away from him so long; and
said, that, to punish me, he should go and get me some very nice apples
from the garden;--I could bear it no longer. It seemed as though my
heart would break. What I said, I have now forgotten. I remember that I
cried very heartily, and, as soon as my tears would allow it, told him
the whole story!

I can still see, fresh in my memory, the sad look that came over him as
I confessed my crime; but not a single harsh or unkind word did he
utter. He told me that it was very wrong; that I had acted nobly in
confessing it; and that, if I had only asked him in the first place, he
would gladl