rd.

Both parents listened intently to this statement. The mother at first
sobbed bitterly, on hearing from the lips of her own child--on whom her
hopes and pride were centered--that he had been in such company and in
such a condition.

The father doubtless felt the disgrace quite as keenly, for he was a
sensitive, intelligent man and naturally feared that this was but the
beginning of a dissipated life. Still, he could hardly look for that
from a boy whom he had tried so hard to instruct in what is manly and
right, and who had always seemed to profit by his teaching.

But as Fred progressed in his narration, and showed how the lamentable
result had been brought about, and that he had been made a victim of De
Vere's revenge in consequence of the latter's jealousy, both parents
looked upon the whole matter in a very different light. Mr. Worthington
was extremely indignant, and expressed his determination to see De
Vere's father and demand redress for the despicable course Matthew had
taken. He also vowed that he would wage war against that bartender, and
drive him out of town.

Fred, however, urged his father not to do either, since he believed it
would only make a bad matter worse; adding that he had decided that it
would be better for him to say and do nothing about the affair, further
than to mention that Matthew was with him. He requested his father to
adopt the same course. Mrs. Worthington, too, thought this the better
plan, so after some persuasion her husband agreed to accept the
situation and wait for time to bring the truth to light.

The wisdom of such a course must be apparent to my readers when they
stop to think upon the matter, as did Fred. For, had he charged De Vere
with being the cause of his misfortune, and alleged that the bartender
had drugged him, both villains would instantly have denied it, and
would, doubtless, have thrown the lie upon young Worthington, thus
making him appear more at disadvantage than before. Besides, the
villagers would be disposed to believe them, as it is well known that
every one guilty of a misdemeanor is sure to give some excuse for his
action, though excuses usually have but little weight.

On the other hand, a secret becomes burdensome to one after a time. If
it is of a trivial nature, and the author finds he is not suspected, he
will finally tell it as a joke, contrasting his cunning with the
stupidity of his victim; while if it be of a graver sort, it will
final