s
in the year, the widow should call in to rest a little at Samuel
Price's, to tell over again the lamentable story of the apples, and to
consult with him how the thief might be brought to justice. But O,
reader, guess, if you can, for I am sure I cannot tell you, what was
her surprise, when, on going into Samuel Price's kitchen, she saw her
own redstreaks lying in the window! The apples were of a sort too
remarkable for color, shape, and size, to be mistaken. There was not
such another tree in the parish.

Widow Brown immediately screamed out, "'Las-a-day! as sure as can be,
here are my redstreaks; I can swear to them in any court." Samuel
Price, who believed his sons to be as honest as himself, was shocked
and troubled at the sight. He knew he had no redstreaks of his own; he
knew there were no apples in the window when he went to church; he did
verily believe these apples to be the widow's. But how they came there
he could not possibly guess. He called for Tom, the only one of his
sons who now lived at home. Tom was at the Sunday-school, which he had
never once missed since Mr. Wilson the minister had set one up in the
parish. Was such a boy likely to do such a deed?

A crowd had by this time got about Price's door, among which was Giles
and his boys, who had already taken care to spread the news that Tom
Price was the thief. Most people were unwilling to believe it. His
character was very good, but appearances were strongly against him.
Mr. Wilson now came in. He was much concerned that Tom Price, the best
boy in his school, should stand accused of such a crime. He sent for
the boy, examined, and cross-examined him. No marks of guilt appeared.
But still, though he pleaded _not guilty,_ there lay the redstreaks in
his father's window.

All the idle fellows in the place, who were most likely to have
committed such a theft themselves, fell with great vengeance on poor
Tom. The wicked seldom give any quarter. "This is one of your
sanctified ones!" cried they. "This was all the good that
Sunday-schools did! For their parts, they never saw any good come by
religion. Sunday was the only day for a little pastime; and if poor
boys must be shut up with their godly books, when they ought to be out
taking a little pleasure, it was no wonder they made themselves amends
by such tricks."

Another said he should like to see parson Wilson's righteous one well
whipped. A third hoped he would be clapped in the stocks for a young