if he dies, maybe you'll be hung."

Tom grew as white as Dick, whom he had followed into the store, and he
heard all that passed as if in a dream.

"Is he badly hurt?" cried some one.

"Only his hands," was the answer. "The rope saved him, he caught hold of
the rope and slipped down; but his hands are dreadfully torn--he has
fainted from pain."

Just then Tom's father came in, and soon understood the case. The look
he gave his unhappy son, so full of sorrow, not unmingled with pity, was
too much for Tom, and he stole out followed by the faithful Tiger.

He wandered to the woods, and threw himself upon the ground. One hour
ago he was a happy boy, and now what a terrible change! What had made
the difference?--Nothing but the indulgence of this wicked, violent
temper.

His mother had often warned him of the fearful consequences. She had
told him that little boys who would not learn to govern themselves, grew
up to be very wicked men, and often became murderers in some moment of
passion.

And now, Tom shuddered to think he was almost a murderer! Nothing but
God's great mercy in putting that rope in Dick's way, had saved him
from carrying that load of sorrow and guilt all the rest of his life.

But poor Dick might die yet--how pale he looked--how strange! Tom fell
upon his knees, and prayed God to spare Dick's life, and from that time
forth, with God's help, he promised that he would strive to conquer his
wicked temper.

Then, as he could no longer bear his terrible suspense, he started for
Widow Casey's cottage. As he appeared at the humble door, Mrs. Casey
angrily ordered him away, saying, "You have made a poor woman trouble
enough for one day." But Dick's feeble voice entreated, "O mother, let
him come in; I was just as bad as he."

Tom gave a cry of joy at hearing these welcome tones, and sprang hastily
in. There sat poor Dick, with his hands bound up, looking very pale, but
Tom thanked God that he was alive.

"I should like to know how I am to live now," sighed Mrs. Casey. "Who
will weed the garden, and carry my vegetables to market? I am afraid we
shall suffer for bread before the summer is over," and she put her apron
to her eyes.

"Mrs. Casey," cried Tom, eagerly, "I will do everything that Dick did. I
will sell the cabbages, potatoes, and beans, and will drive Mr. Brown's
cows to pasture."

Mrs. Casey shook her head incredulously; but Tom bravely kept his word.
For the next few weeks Tom was at his