xcitement, her sensitive lips parted in breathless interest--when,
suddenly, a stinging blow of "the strap" on her shoulders brought from
her a cry of pain and fright.

"What you mean, doin' somepin like, this yet!" sternly demanded her
father. "What fur book's that there?"

He took the book from her hands and Tillie cowered beneath the covers,
the wish flashing through her mind that the book could change into a
Bible as he looked at it!--which miracle would surely temper the
punishment that in a moment she knew would be meted out to her.

"'Iwanhoe'--a novel! A NOVEL!" he said in genuine horror. "Tillie,
where d'you get this here!"

Tillie knew that if she told lies she would go to hell, but she
preferred to burn in torment forever rather than betray Miss Margaret;
for her father, like Absalom's, was a school director, and if he knew
Miss Margaret read novels and lent them to the children, he would
surely force her out of "William Penn."

"I lent it off of Elviny Dinkleberger!" she sobbed.

"You know I tole you a'ready you darsen't bring books home! And you
know I don't uphold to novel-readin'! I 'll have to learn you to mind
better 'n this! Where d' you get that there candle?"

"I--bought it, pop."

"Bought? Where d'you get the money!"

Tillie did not like the lies she had to tell, but she knew she had
already perjured her soul beyond redemption and one lie more or less
could not make matters worse.

"I found it in the road."

"How much did you find?"

"Fi' cents."

"You hadn't ought to spent it without astin' me dare you. Now I'm goin'
to learn you once! Set up."

Tillie obeyed, and the strap fell across her shoulders. Her outcries
awakened the household and started the youngest little sister, in her
fright and sympathy with Tillie, to a high-pitched wailing. The rest of
them took the incident phlegmatically, the only novelty about it being
the strange hour of its happening.

But the hardest part of her punishment was to follow.

"Now this here book goes in the fire!" her father announced when at
last his hand was stayed. "And any more that comes home goes after it
in the stove, I'll see if you 'll mind your pop or not!"

Left alone in her bed, her body quivering, her little soul hot with
shame and hatred, the child stifled her sobs in her pillow, her whole
heart one bleeding wound.

How could she ever tell Miss Margaret? Surely she would never like her
any more!--never again lay her hand on h