y not, you silly jackanapes?" asked his ungodly comrade, in a
tone of derision.

"Because my parents taught me it was sinful, and God has forbidden
it," said William. "My mother always told me that lying was the first
step in the road to ruin; and I read in my Bible that no one 'that
loveth and maketh a lie' can enter into that Holy City of which God
himself is the glory and the light."

Dear young reader, how glorious is the majesty of truth! The
dissipated and sin-loving journeyman, long since made familiar with
vice, could not listen unmoved as the boy uttered the scriptural
denunciation in the solemn and reverential manner he had been taught
was proper, it was long since Jem Taylor had heard any word from that
holy book, and now, awed by the dignity of the truth, that great
principle of Christian life and conduct, he made no answer, but
continued to work in silence. Perhaps he might have resumed the
subject; but Mr. Walters came in and commenced the usual
fault-finding, and Jem answering reproach with reproach, there was
nothing more said.

One day soon after, William was directed to go to the upper shop for a
pair of white satin shoes, which he was to carry to a wealthy lady who
lived during the summer months in a handsome cottage in the suburbs.
How happy he was at thought of seeing something like the country once
more! and he started off at full speed, his elastic spirit happy and
hopeful as if it had never known a sorrow. The sunshine was so
cheering, and rested so brightly on the spires as it bathed them in
its golden radiance, that his whole mood partook of the genial glow.
He had reached the upper part of the city, and was quite in the
neighbourhood of the house where the shoes were to be left, when a
large dog coming round the corner at a speed as rapid as his own, ran
directly in his way, and threw him over. There had been a heavy shower
in the early part of the afternoon, the gutters were still full of
water, and although he was not hurt by his fall, yet in the shock the
shoes were dashed from his hand, and fell into the muddy bath.

With feelings of terror not to be described, our poor hero saw the
black fluid streaming over the beautiful shoes; and after having stood
for a moment as if paralyzed, he plunged his hand into the filthy pool
and drew them out.

He might have served as a study for a painter as he stood surveying
the consequences of the mishap; his countenance expressed almost every
emot