out of the woods. Over the fields he
raced, with Tiger close at his heels, nor rested a moment till he
stood at Major White's door, nearly two miles away.

"Do you still want Tiger, sir?"

"Why yes," said the old man in great surprise, "but do _you_ want to
sell him?"

"Yes, please," gasped Tom, not daring to look at his old companion.
The exchange was quickly made, and the ten dollars in Tom's hand.
Tiger was beguiled into a barn, and the door hastily shut, and Tom was
hurrying off, when he turned and cried in a choking voice--

"You will be kind to him, Major White, won't you? Don't whip him, I
never did, and he's the best dog--"

"No, no, child," said Major White, kindly; "I'll treat him like a
prince, and if you ever want to buy him back, you shall have him." Tom
managed to falter, "Thank you," and almost flew out of hearing of
Tiger's eager scratching on the barn door.

I am making my story too long, and can only tell you in a few words
that Tom's sacrifice was accepted. A friend took little Dick to the
city free of expense, and Tom's money paid for the necessary
operation. The poor crooked fingers were very much improved, and were
soon almost as good as ever. And the whole village loved Tom for his
brave, self-sacrificing spirit, and the noble atonement he had made
for his moment of passion.

A few days after Dick's return came Tom's birthday, but he did not
feel in his usual spirits. In spite of his great delight in Dick's
recovery, he had so mourned over the matter, and had taken Tiger's
loss so much to heart, that he had grown quite pale and thin. So, as
he was permitted to spend the day as he pleased, he took his books and
went to his favorite haunt in the woods.

"How different from my last birthday," thought Tom. "Then Tiger had
just come, and I was so happy, though I didn't like him half so well
as I do now." Tom sighed heavily; then added more cheerfully, "Well, I
hope some things are better than they were last year. I hope I have
begun to conquer myself, and with God's help I will never give up
trying while I live. Now if I could only earn money enough to buy back
dear old Tiger." While Tom was busied with these thoughts he heard a
hasty, familiar trot, a quick bark of joy, and the brave old dog
sprang into Tom's arms.

"Tiger, old fellow," cried Tom, trying to look fierce, though he could
scarcely keep down the tears, "how came you to run away, sir?"

Tiger responded by picking up a letter