pure eyes on the naughty
boys. "Steal! I would not do it for all the world."

"But you _shall_," said a great, strong boy, bigger than Knud.

"You shall?" echoed all the other boys, "or, we will drown you, Knud;
yes, drown you in the river, just as sure as you stand there."

Knud looked at them. He saw that they were in earnest. They were
stronger than he, and Knud knew that they _could_ kill him, for there
was nobody near to help him. His father and mother were not within
call. Knud loved his father and mother; he thought this world a very
fair and pleasant one, with its birds, its sunshine and its flowers;
but, did he tremble and drop on his knees before those wicked boys and
say, "_Don't_ kill me--_don't_--I will do _anything_ if you won't kill
me!"

No, no; dear, noble, courageous little fellow! He stood up and faced
them all, and said, "I cannot steal; no--not even if you kill me!"

You would have thought that they would have put their arms about his
neck and begged his forgiveness, but they were little monsters. I
cannot bear to think there are _children_ with such bad hearts, because
we look to see _them_ innocent, and good, and pure. But you will weep
when I tell you that they seized Knud and dragged him down to the river
and plunged him in, and that the waters closed over the sunny little
head, that is now wearing a martyr's crown.

You pity Knud? _I_ pity his murderers.

Do you think that they can sleep peaceably at night? No; in their
dreams they hear the plashing waves, and see a pallid, upturned face,
with pure and pleading eyes, from which _they turned away_!

Ever at their side, at golden morn, and busy noon, and dewy eve, a
little form, unseen by other eyes, shall follow--follow--follow. Ever
in their startled ears, a little childish voice, that no noise may
drown, no earthly power may hush, shall ring, "Oh, I _cannot_ steal,
not even if you _kill_ me! I _cannot_ steal!"

CHILDREN IN 1853.

I went with a friend, the other day, to look at some "rooms to let."
She liked the rooms, and the man who owned them liked she should have
them; but when she mentioned she had children--he stepped six paces
off--set his teeth together--pulled his waist-coat down with a jerk,
and said--"_Never--take--children,--ma'am!_"

Now, I'd like to know if that man was _born_ grown up?

I'd like to know if children are to have their necks wrung like so many
chickens, if they happen to "_peep_?"

I'd like t