her her eyes were open or shut, still she saw them
crying, and heard them moaning, and begging their sick mother to
give them some supper.

O, Kate! how severely was she punished for the sin she had
committed! Her mother and her father had praised her, but still she
was unhappy.

Slowly, very slowly, the time passed away and she heard the clock
strike ten. She could endure her sufferings no longer; and she
burst into tears, sobbing and moaning as if her heart would break.

For some time she cried; but as her distress increased, she sobbed
and moaned so loud that her father and mother, who were in the
adjoining room, heard her, and hastened into the room to find out
what ailed her.

"What is the matter, my child?" anxiously asked her mother.
"Haven't you been asleep since you went to bed?"

"No mother," sobbed Kate.

"What ails you? Are you sick?"

"No, mother."

"What are you crying for, then?"

"O mother!"

"Why, what ails you, child? Have you been frightened?"

"No, mother."

"Tell us what ails you, Kate," added her father.

Both of her parents were greatly alarmed about her, for they loved
their little girl very much; and they knew that something must ail
her, or she would not have lain awake so long, or have cried so
bitterly.

"Can't you tell us what ails you, Kate?" inquired her mother, very
tenderly.

"I have been very naughty, mother," replied Kate, almost choking
with emotion.

"Naughty, child?"

"Yes, mother."

"I thought you had been very good," added Mr. Lamb.

"No, I have not; I have been very wicked, and you will never
forgive me."

"Why, what have you done, Kate? How strange you act, my child!"

"I can't help it, mother. If you will forgive me this time, I will
never be so wicked again while I live."

"Tell us all about it, Kate, and we will forgive you," said her
father, very kindly.

The poor girl sobbed so that she could not speak for some time, for
the tenderness of her parents made her feel a great deal worse
than if they had scolded her severely.

"What have you done, Kate?" repeated Mrs. Lamb.

"I didn't carry the milk to Mrs. O'Brien, mother," gasped the poor
penitent, as she uncovered her eyes, and looked up in the face of
her parents to notice the effect of her confession upon them.

"Didn't carry it to her?" was the exclamation of her father and
mother at the same time.

"No; I spilled it on the ground."

"Why, Kate! what did you do that for?"

"I cou