, looking steadily into
the coals. He was sober and thoughtful, wondering what his mother would
say at last. The clock struck nine. It was his bedtime. He went and
stood by her side once more. "You are not angry with me, mother, are
you?"

"No, my son. I do not think that you deserved so severe a punishment. I
am rejoiced to know that you are truthful, and that you despise a mean
act. Be always as you have been to-night in telling the truth, and I
never shall be angry with you."

He threw his arms around her neck, and gave way to tears, such as Cipher
could not extort by his pounding. She gave him a good-night kiss,--so
sweet that it seemed to lie upon his lips all through the night.

"God bless you, Paul," said the Pensioner.

Paul climbed the creaking stairs, and knelt with an overflowing heart
to say his evening prayer. He spoke the words earnestly when he asked
God to take care of his mother and grandfather. He was very happy. He
looked out through the crevices in the walls, and saw the stars and the
moon flooding the landscape with silver light. There was sweet music in
the air,--the merry melody of the water murmuring by the mill, the
cheerful chirping of the crickets, and the lullaby of the winds, near at
hand and far away, putting him in mind of the choirs on earth and the
choirs in heaven. "Don't mind it, Paul!" were the words they sung, so
sweetly and tenderly that for many days they rang in his ears.

CHAPTER II.

HARD TIMES.

How lonesome the days when dear friends leave us to return no more, whom
we never shall see again on earth, who will send us no message or letter
of love from the far distant land whither they have gone! It tries our
hearts and brings tears to our eyes to lay them in the ground. But shall
we never, never see them again? Yes, when we have taken the same
journey, when we have closed our eyes on earth and opened them in
heaven.

As the months rolled by, the Pensioner's eyes grew dim. He became weak
and feeble. "The Pensioner won't stand it long," the people said.

He did not rise one morning when breakfast was ready.

"Come, grandpa," said Paul, opening the bedroom door and calling him;
but there was no reply. He lay as if asleep; but his brow was cold, and
his heart had stopped beating. He had died calmly and peacefully, and
was forever at rest.

It was a sad day to Paul when he followed the body of his dear old
grandfather to the grave; but when he stood by his coff