en I went out it was quite large, and now look at
it!"

John said, "I do not know of it: how should I?"

She then rang; the bell: "Ann," said she as the maid came in the room,
"do you know what has made the cake in this state? Call the cook, and
ask her."

The cook said the same as Ann had said, that "she did not know of it."

When they were gone, his Aunt said to John, "It can be no one but you
who have done this. I left you in the room with this cake, and told you
not to touch it, and now, when I am come back, I find it in this
state."

John could not speak a word, for he felt that he had done wrong. His
Aunt saw this, and told him to go to bed.

When he was in bed he thought what a bad boy he had been, and how wrong
it was for him to have told his Aunt what was not true. He thought that
when he got up he would go and tell his Aunt how wrong he had been, and
that he would do so no more.

John did as he thought he would do. His Aunt told him that if he was a
good boy for a month, no more should be said of it.

He _was_ a good boy for a month; but for a long time past the month,
when John saw plum cake, a flush of shame came on his face.

WHAT A PRICE FOR A BOX!

Rose Wood was in want of six pence. She had seen a box that she had a
great wish to buy; and she thought that if she had but six pence, which
was the price of that box, she should not have a want for a long time.

Rose would stand close to the shop, near a pane of glass through which
she could see this box, and each time she saw it the more strong was
her wish to have it for her own.

So much did Rose think of it that it might be said she had not a wish
but what was shut up in that box.

"What shall I do for six pence?" said Rose one day; "that box will cost
but six pence, and if I had six pence it would be my own."

"Why," said Mark Wood, "if you will sell your self to me, I will give
you six pence."

"Sell my self! yes, that I will," said Rose. "Give me six pence, and I
will sell my self at once."

"But," said Mark, "do you know that when I have bought you, you will be
my child, and that you must do all that I bid you do?"

"Oh! I _will_ do all: I don't care what you bid me do, if I may but
have the six pence to buy that box."

The six pence were hers, and the box was bought; but, poor Rose! you
had to pay a great price for it.

With what joy she ran home box in hand!

"Look at it, look at it, Mark! This box is mine now; do j