"What! My son got a whipping!" his mother exclaimed.

"Yes, mother."

"I am astonished. Come here, and tell me all about it."

Paul stood by her side and told the story,--how Philip Funk tried to
bribe him, how he called him names,--how, having got his lessons, he
made a picture of the master. "Here it is, mother." He took his slate
from his little green bag. The picture had not been effaced. His mother
looked at it and laughed, notwithstanding her efforts to keep sober, for
it was such a perfect likeness. She had an exquisite sense of the
ludicrous, and Paul was like her. She was surprised to find that he
could draw so well.

"We will talk about the matter after supper," she said. She had told
Paul many times, that, if he was justly punished at school, he must
expect a second punishment at home; but she wanted to think awhile
before deciding what to do. She was pleased to know that her boy could
not be bribed to do what his conscience told him he ought not to do, and
that he was manly and truthful. She would rather follow him to the
church-yard and lay him in his grave beneath the bending elms, than to
have him untruthful or wicked.

The evening passed away. Paul sat before the fire, looking steadily into
the coals. He was sober and thoughtful, wondering what his mother would
say at last. The clock struck nine. It was his bedtime. He went and
stood by her side once more. "You are not angry with me, mother, are
you?"

"No, my son. I do not think that you deserved so severe a punishment. I
am rejoiced to know that you are truthful, and that you despise a mean
act. Be always as you have been to-night, and I never shall be angry
with you."

He threw his arms around her neck, and gave way to tears, such as Cipher
could not extort by his pounding. She gave him a good-night kiss,--so
sweet that it seemed to lie upon his lips all through the night.

"God bless you, Paul," said the Pensioner.

Paul climbed the creaking stairs, and knelt with an overflowing heart to
say his evening prayer. He spoke the words earnestly when he asked God
to take care of his mother and grandfather. He was very happy. He looked
out through the crevices in the walls, and saw the stars and the moon
flooding the landscape with silver light. There was sweet music in the
air,--the merry melody of the water murmuring by the mill, the cheerful
chirping of the crickets, and the lullaby of the winds, near at hand and
far away, putting him in mind