hod by which the rider learns to fly off the machine head foremost
into a ditch with impunity, appeared to be the most desirable. Her
patience in this respect was rewarded by that most precious possession
to a mother, a son's confidence.

Tom liked to tell her of various things that happened during the day;
to compare notes, and get her opinions of matters in general; at the
same time giving his own, which were often quaint and entertaining.

"Really, mother, Missis Barry knows a lot!" he now exclaimed, abruptly,
clasping his knee and staring at the fire in a meditative manner.

Mrs. Norris looked amused, but she did not venture to question the
apple-vender's wisdom. One or two kindly inquiries about the old
woman, however, prompted him to speak of her further,--of his meeting
her as she struggled along with her burden, his drawing it on the sled,
and last of her refusal of the drink he offered.

"You would not have minded, would you, mother?" he asked.

"No, not for the sake of the milk, certainly," responded Mrs. Norris,
laughing; "but--" then she hesitated. How could she hamper the mind of
this ingenuous little lad of hers with false and finical ideas of
refinement and delicacy! Why should she suggest to him that it is at
least not customary to go about giving the poor to drink out of our own
especial milk cans? There came to her mind the noble lines which but
frame as with jewels the simple Christian precept,--the words spoken to
Sir Launfal when, weary, poverty-stricken, and disheartened, the knight
returns from his fruitless search for the Holy Grail; when humbly he
shares his cup and crust with the leper at the gate,--the leper who
straightway stands before him glorified, a vision of Our Lord, and
tells him that true love of our neighbor consists in,

"Not what we give, but what we share;
For the gift without the giver is bare."

And then the mother's hands rested lovingly a moment upon Tom's head,
as again she repeated more softly: "No, certainly."

* * * * *

As Widow Barry had surmised, the keynote of Tom's nature was that he
was easily led, and therein rested the possibilities of great good or
evil. The little confidential chats with his mother were a strong
safeguard to him, and laid the foundation of the true principles by
which he should be guided; but, as he mingled more with other boys, he
was not always steadfast in acting up to his knowledge of what was
rig