ot rest,
He always is in fear;
Not knowing what may happen next
To make his guilt appear.
So, when he heard his mother speak,
He rose up in his bed,
And did not lose a syllable
Of every word she said:--

"We have not any turnips, John,
I could not spare the pence;
But you can go and get us some
Through Farmer Turner's fence.
"There's nobody to see you now,
The folks are off the road;
The night looks dark and blustering,
And no one is abroad.

"It is not far--you'll soon be back--
I'll stand outside to hear;
The watchman now is off his track,
And won't be coming near."
The father he went softly out,
And down the lane he crept,
And stole some turnips from the field
Whilst honest people slept!

'Tis not the words that parents say,
It is their very deed;
Their children know the difference,
And follow where they lead.
How often, if their lives are good,
Their children's are the same;
Whilst, if they're thievish, drunken,
Their children come to shame!

Now, Willie laid him down in bed,
His conscience found relief;
"I'm not the only one," he said--
"My father is a thief!
"How foolish 'twas to be afraid
About a little plum!"
He pull'd the bed-clothes o'er his head,
And dream'd of feasts to come.

On Christmas-day they had the pies.
The turnips, and the beef;
And Willie's foot was firm upon
The ladder of the thief.
And ere the snow was on the plain,
And Christmas-day came round,
And boys were sliding, once again,
Upon the frozen ground,

He, step by step, had further gone
Upon that dreadful road
That brings a man to misery,
And takes him far from God.
He cheated with his marbles first,
And then at other play;
He pilfered any little thing
That came within his way.

His parents did not punish him;
He went from bad to worse,
Until he grew so confident,
He stole a lady's purse.
Then he was seized, and brought before
The city magistrate;
And the police and lady came
The robbery to state.

And Willie he was proved a thief,
And nothing had to say;
So to the dreadful prison-house
He soon was led away.
In vain he cried, and pleaded hard
They would not take him there;
He would not do such things again
If they would hear his prayer.

It was too late! The prison door,
With bolt, a