ad locked the door fast,
he began to examine me carefully. "It _is_ a beautiful pen," said
he, and then he tried to see how I would write. I should think he was a
pretty good penman. He made a great many flourishes with me, and wrote
his name several times. His name was John Smith, by the way, or at any
rate, that was the signature he made. "What a fine pen this is," said
he; "I never wrote with a better pen in my life. But it won't do for me
to keep it. I shall be found out, if I do. Oh, dear! I wish I had got it
without stealing it. I wonder where I can sell the troublesome thing."

Just then somebody knocked at the door. It was a long time before he let
the person in. He had to think what he would do with me first, and it
took him a good while to put away the paper he had been scribbling on.
"Why, John!" said the man, when he came in, "what makes you look so
frightened? I should think you took me for a tiger, or some such
animal." "I've got the toothache," said the thief, "and I have sent for
the doctor to pull it out. I thought he had come when you knocked. Dear
me! how I dread it! Did you ever have a tooth drawn?"

So you see the fellow told a lie. Those who break one of God's
commandments, are pretty likely to break more before they get through.
My new owner seemed to find it difficult to get to sleep that night, and
after he did get to sleep, he muttered a good deal in his dreams. Once I
heard him say, "No; I bought it of Mr Bagley, in Broadway." I could not
help thinking that he ought to be content with telling lies when he was
awake.

One day he left me on the table when he went out. It was unfortunate for
him. That night I overheard the chambermaid talking with him about it,
and I saw him turn very red in the face. It was evident she did not
believe his story about buying the pen of Mr Bagley, though he told it
over and over again, and made use of a terrible oath, which I dare not
repeat. Poor man! I pitied him. He was certainly very unhappy. He wanted
to sell me very much indeed; but some how or other, no one would give
the price he asked. Perhaps they remembered the saying, "The buyer is as
bad as the thief." He offered me to one man in Pearl street, who seemed
a little disposed to buy. "Wait a minute," said he; and he went into a
back room to speak to somebody. But John Smith thought it would be safer
for him not to wait. I guess he had his mind on the subject of police
officers at that time.

He never