"O, we hid him behind a stone, down at the foot of the mountain, where our horses are tied."

"But how can you find him again?" said Jim.

"O," said Rollo, "we know; it was behind the corner of a stone, just in the bushes, where we tied the horse."

Jim winked at the other boys when Rollo said this, though Rollo did not see it. He was vexed with Rollo, because he reproved him for stoning the bird.

"I would set him up for a mark, if I had him," said Jim. "I wish I had been there when you found him; I would have taken him away from you."

"No, you would not have taken him away. Jonas would not let you."

"Jonas! who is Jonas? and what do you think I care for Jonas?" said he.

He then came up to Rollo, and looked into his basket, and saw it nearly full of large ripe blueberries.

"And I believe," said he, "that you have stolen some of my berries out of my basket, while I have been sitting here."

"No, I have not," said Rollo. "I have not touched your basket."

"You have," said Jim, fiercely, "and I will have them back again.

Besides, I put some into yours, while you went to your father. So half the berries in your basket are mine."

This was a lie; but bad boys, like Jim, will always lie, when they have any thing to gain by it. He came up to Rollo, and began to pull his basket away from him. Rollo struggled against him, and began to cry. But Jim was too strong for him: he tipped his basket over, poured a great many of the berries into his own basket, and the rest were spilled over on to the ground. Then, angry at Rollo's screams and cries, he trampled on all the berries that were on the ground, and was beginning to run away. Rollo caught hold of the skirt of his coat, screaming all the time for his father. Jim turned round, and struck Rollo with his fist, knocked him down, and then he and the other boys set off, as fast as they could run, through the bushes; and they disappeared just as Rollo's father and Jonas came hastening to his aid.

They raised Rollo up, and his father took him in his arms to carry him away. He saw that there had been some serious difficulty with the bad boys, but he did not ask Rollo any thing about it, then; for he knew that he could not talk intelligibly till he had done crying. Rollo laid his head down on his father's shoulder, as he walked along, and sobbed bitterly.

A TEST OF PENITENCE.

His father carried him back to where his mother and uncle were, who were coming towards him looking anxiously.

They presently got pretty near them, Rollo still continuing to cry. His father then said to him,

"Rollo, be still a moment. I want to speak to you."

When he first took Rollo up, he did not command him to be still, for he knew that it would do no good. He was then so overwhelmed with pain and terror, that he could not help crying; and his father never commanded impossibilities. By this time, however, the pain, and the immediate terror, had so far subsided, that his father knew he could now control himself, and Rollo knew that he must obey. He accordingly stopped crying aloud, and tried to listen to his father.

"Rollo," said his father, "I pity you very much. I warned you against this bad company, and now I perceive you have got into some difficulty with them; but I cannot hear your story about it till we get home. It is your own fault that has brought you into trouble; and now you must not extend your trouble over all our party, and spoil our happiness, as you have your own. I must go and put you by yourself, until you get entirely composed and pleasant, and then you may join us again."

"But, father," said Rollo, beginning to cry afresh at the thoughts of the boys' treatment of him, "they came up to me, and--and--"

"Stop, Rollo," said his father. "Be still. You cannot tell the story intelligibly now, and if you could, I should not be willing to listen to it. You must not say any thing about it, unless you are questioned, until we get home."

By this time they came up pretty near the place where the rest of the party were; but his father did not take him there. He turned aside, and, putting Rollo down, he led him along to a smooth log, which lay among some old trees, close by, and told him to sit there, until he was entirely composed and pleasant again, and then to come to him, or to go to picking berries again, just as he pleased.

Rollo sat on the log, for some time, with his empty basket by his side, mourning over his sorrows. Lucy came to him, and endeavored to console him. She begged him not to cry; and she poured out half of her own berries into his basket, and told him that they could soon fill it full again, if he would come with her to a good thick place she had found.

Rollo became gradually quiet and composed, and walked along with Lucy.

Lucy had indeed found a place where the berries were very thick and large, and Rollo determined to be as industrious as possible. They worked away very busily for half an hour, and Rollo gradually recovered his spirits.

His mother watched him from time to time, and when she saw that he was good-humored again, she said to his father,

"Rollo seems to be picking his berries very pleasantly. I rather think he is sorry for his conduct."

"Yes, I see he is getting _good-humored_ again, but I am afraid he is not truly penitent. It is easier _forget_ a sin, than to be sorry for it. It is very easy, however, for us to ascertain."

"How can we ascertain?" asked his mother.

"Why, if you should go and ask him about it, if he is really penitent, he will be troubled most to think of his disobedience in going; into the bad company; but if he is not penitent, he will not think of that, but only go to scolding about the bad boys."

"That is true," said she. "I have a great mind to go and try him."

Rollo's father thought it would be a good plan, and she, accordingly, walked along towards Rollo slowly, gathering berries as she went.

Rollo saw her coming, and said, "Here is mother, Lucy; let us go and give her our berries."

So saying, he carried his basket up to her very pleasantly, and said, "Here, mother; see, here are all these berries I have been picking for you."

"Ah," said she, "did you pick all these for me?"

"E--h--no," said he; "not all; Lucy gave me some."

"Well, Lucy, I am very much obliged to you, and I am glad to see that you, Rollo, are pleasant again; I am sorry you went and got into difficulty with those boys."

"They came and took away my berries," said he, "and struck me--that great ugly Jim."

The feelings of vexation and anger against the bad boys began to rise again in Rollo's mind, the moment he began to talk about them, and he was just going to cry. His mother stopped him, saying,

"You need not tell me about him any more. I see how it is."

"How what is?" said Rollo.

"How it is about your being sorry. Your father told me that, if you were truly penitent for what happened about those boys, I should find you, when I came to talk with you about it, grieved for _your own_ fault, and if you were not penitent, you would only be angry at _theirs_. I see which it is."

Rollo was silent a moment. He felt the truth and justice of the distinction; but, like all boys who are not sorry for the wrong they have done, he could not resist the temptation to try to justify himself by throwing the blame on others. So he began to tell her something more about "that cross old Jim," but she interrupted him, and told him she did not wish to hear any thing about that "cross old Jim." He was not her boy, she said, and she had nothing to do with him or his faults.

She then went to talking about other things, and helped Rollo begin to fill his basket again. He showed her where the berries were thickest, and led her round behind a rock to show her a beautiful wild flower that he had found; he said he did not bring it to her, for his father had told him not to touch any flowers or berries that they did not know, for fear they might be poisonous.

After a little while, Rollo's mother left him and Lucy together, and went back lo where his father and uncle were.

"Well," said they, "how did you find Rollo?"

"Pleasant, but not _penitent_," said she Lucy and Rollo went on gathering berries some time after Rollo's mother left him, in silence.

Rollo felt rather unhappy, but he was not subdued. His heart was still proud and unhumbled, and after a time, he said to Lucy,

"It seems to me very strange that my mother does not think those boys were to blame any for doing so."