r the disobedience, but she wouldn't call it
stealing." He blushed as he uttered the ugly word.

"Yes, but to take money is different, ye know," continued his
relentless mentor, whose heart, however, was sorrowing over him with
the tenderness of a mother for her child.

Tom was silent; he did know, had really known from the first, though
now his fault stood before him in its unsightliness; all the pretexts
by which he had attempted to palliate it fell from it like a veil, and
showed the hateful thing it was. He could not bring himself to
acknowledge it, however. Sullenly he set down the apples and peanuts,
murmuring, "I never did it before, anyhow!"

"No, nor never will again, I'm sure, avick! This'll be a lifelong
lesson to ye," returned the old woman, with agitation, as she put the
dimes back into his hand. "Go right home with them now, an' tell yer
father all about it."

"My father!" faltered Tom, doubtful of the consequences of such a
confession.

"Well, yer mother, then. She'll be gentle with ye, never fear, if ye
are really sorry."

"Indeed I am, Missis Barry," declared Tom, quite breaking down at last.

"I'm certain ye are, asthore!" continued the good creature, heartily.
"An', whisper, when ye get home go to yer own little room, an' there on
yer bended knees ask God to forgive ye. Make up yer mind to shun bad
company for the future; an' never, from this hour, will we speak
another word about this--either ye to me or I to ye,--save an' except
ye may come an' say: 'I've done as ye bid me, Missis Barry. It's all
hunkey dory!'"

The old woman smiled with grim humor as she found herself quoting the
boy's favorite slang expression.

Tom laughed in spite of himself, so droll did it sound from her lips;
but at the same time he drew his jacket sleeve across his eyes, which
had grown strangely dim, and said:

"I will, Missis Barry. You may trust me: I will."

And Tom did. From that day he and the honest old apple-woman were
better friends than ever. Meanwhile her trade improved so much that
before long she was able to set up a more pretentious establishment,--a
genuine stand, with an awning to replace the faithful umbrella, which
was forthwith honorably retired from service. Here she carried on a
thriving business for several years, Tom, though now a student at St.
Jerome's College, often bought apples and peanuts of her.

"You see that old woman?" said he to a comrade one day. "Don't look
muc