nd when the little
boy's naughty heart said, 'I would steal one of my mother's oranges and
eat it,' he said, 'Yes; no one will know it, and if your mother asks
you about it, you can tell her a lie, and say you didn't touch it.'"

"I wouldn't take your olange, mamma," said Frankie, putting his arms
round his mother's neck and kissing her. "I would ask you, 'May I?'"

At this moment a lady called to see mamma, and she said, "You may go and
play now, and I will finish the story about Moses some other time."

CHAPTER III.

FRANKIE'S SICKNESS.

THAT night Frankie was quite sick, and his mother, after being up with
him several times, lay down by him in his trundle-bed. He was very much
pleased at this, and put up his little hot hand on her face. The fever
made him quite wakeful, and he wanted to talk. She began to repeat the
little rhyme,--

"Once there was a little man,
Where a little river ran,"

when he said, "Mamma, please tell me 'bout heaven."

"Do you want to go to heaven?" she asked.

"Yes, mamma, when I die; but I can't go 'lone. I want you to go with me.
Won't you please to ask God to let us take hold of hands and go wight up
to heaven together. That would be a pretty way; wouldn't it?"

Mrs. Gray bent over her darling boy and kissed his cheek. She whispered
a prayer to God to preserve her dear child from death for a long time to
come.

Pretty soon he spoke again: "How can you get up to heaven, mamma?"

"God will send his angels, my dear, and take me there."

"I 'fraid they can't lift you, mamma, you so heavy. But you can go up on
the barn, and then they can get you up there; can't they?" In a minute,
he asked, "Does God have horses in heaven, mamma?"

Toward morning, he sank into a quiet sleep, and did not awake until
Willie and Margie had gone to school. When he opened his eyes, his mamma
was standing over him with a cup of milk and water in her hand.

"Frankie feel better," he said, starting up to receive her kiss.

As he still felt weak, his mamma held him in her lap, where he could
look at Ponto, who was washing his paws on the rug. Presently Nelly came
in, carrying a wax doll nearly as large as herself. She was a little
afraid of Ponto, and when he went and put his nose on her arm, and tried
to lick her hand, she cried, "Get away, you ugly dog! I hate you, I do!"
and she struck him with the doll.

Ponto growled, and turned away to Frankie. The little fellow slip