The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. I completed it according to the directions, you see, and it was a beautiful machine, a triangle sort of, with a steering column I built out of an old wheelbarrow and a hubcap. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. I wanted John to be proud to be seen with me. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. .
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