CHAPTER IX.

CONCLUSION.

THE next day Henry commenced life anew. What do you suppose was the first thing he did? I will tell you. He went to the school, knocked timidly at the door, and told the teacher he wanted to speak to her a minute. There was something in his face which convinced her that he was a penitent boy. So she said kindly,—

"Wait till I dismiss the class in spelling; and I will come to you."

Henry waited nearly ten minutes. I will not deny that he trembled a good deal as he thought of telling her all he had done; and once he said to himself,—

"I can't do it! She'll tell the scholars, and they'll all despise me."

But the remembrance of her kind voice, as she said, "Wait a minute," decided him to remain and bravely confess his guilt.

"I did steal your knife," he exclaimed, as she appeared; "I broke it, too; and then, when it was of no use, I put it back. I didn't feel happy, and that made me cross to Ernest; and I told ever so many lies, and I'm just as sorry as I can be."

The teacher gazed at his eyes, blinded with the big tears he was trying to keep back. She saw that his lip quivered. She heard his broken voice, and she knew that he was really sorry for his sins.

"My dear Henry," she began, "I forgive you heartily, and I feel more encouraged about you now than I ever did before."

Do you think Henry was happy now?

Do you think he refused when she asked him to come in to his seat while she told the school? No, indeed.

And if ever after, he was tempted to lie, he called to mind the dreadful days he had passed away from home, and prayed his heavenly Father to help him always to be an obedient, truthful child.