ery moment appeared to
her like an hour. Those poor little children constantly haunted her;
whether 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 sam