did, little man! I'll leave it to father if you didn't!"

Willy stamped and kicked. He had a high temper when it was aroused, and
his sister Love had to come and quiet him.

"You took the money in your sleep," said she. "You didn't mean to do it;
you are not a thief, dear; and we love you just as well as we did
before."

They all thought Willy must have had a dream about Caleb and the
ox-money, or he would never have gone and taken the singing-book out of
the drawer; but from that day to this he has never been able to
remember the dream.

Caleb cried for joy when he received the letter, and fell on his
knees,--so he afterwards told grandpa Cheever,--and thanked his heavenly
Father for bringing him out of the greatest trial he had ever had in his
life. He was very glad to go back to Mr. Parlin's, and everybody there
received him like a prince. King George the Third, coming in his own
ship from England, would not have been treated half so well; for the
Parlins despised him,--poor crazy monarch,--whereas they now thought
Caleb was the very pink of perfection. Even Seth begged pardon for his
hasty judgment. Mrs. Parlin gave him "election cake," for supper, and
some of her very best ginger preserves, and said she did not see how
they could make up for the pain of mind he had suffered.

Caleb confessed that he _had_ felt "kind o' bad; but it wasn't worth
speaking of now."

After this, when Willy told any improbable story, and insisted that it
was true, as children often will, his mother had only to remark,--

"Remember Caleb! You said he wanted your father's money. Is this story
any more reasonable than that?" and Willy would blush, and stammer
out,--

"Well, _perhaps_ it isn't true, mamma. I won't tell it for certain; but
I _think_ so, you know!"

* * * * *

I believe this was the only time that Willy ever did anything in his
sleep that is worth recording. The rest of his adventures occurred when
he was wide awake; so, you see, if he did wrong there was not so much
excuse for him.

CHAPTER V.

THE BOY THAT WORE HOME THE MEDAL.

The school-house was deep red, and shamed the Boston pinks, which could
not blush to the least advantage near it. It stood on a sand-bank, with
a rich crop of thistles on three sides, and an oak tree in one corner.
There were plenty of beautiful places in town; but the people of
Perseverance, District Number Three, had chosen this spot for their