"Ralph is not very well to-day," said his sister Nellie, in a low tone.

"His appet.i.te has not been so good lately as it used to be. He never seems to get on with bacon; and there have been very few eggs brought in for some time. Do you think the fowls have left off laying, papa?"

"Hardly, my dear; this is just the time of year they lay most freely. I suspect they are hiding them, and making nests for themselves in some secret place."

"_I_ suspect, John, that the stable-boy takes them. It is not at all likely that fourteen or fifteen fowls would hide their eggs, whatever one might do," said the severe aunt.

"Hens choose curious places to lay their eggs in sometimes," said Mr.

Thorn,[11] laughing. "I remember one fine Spanish bird that invariably laid hers on the top of a wall."

[11] The real names are, of course, suppressed throughout.

"What a queer place, papa! Did not the eggs get broken?"

"They did, my dear, to the great distress of the poor fowl, who no doubt wished to make a nest in that strange, out-of-the-way place. I used to listen for her cackling, in order, if possible, to save the egg; but it always tumbled off the wall before I could get to it. Another, a Cochin-china fowl, laid hers on a heap of stones, and----"

"Those must have been very badly managed fowls, John," interrupted Miss Thorn. "Now, yours, on the contrary, are well cared for, and properly housed."

This was quite true, for Mr. Thorn's fowl-house was large and airy, and well supplied with every necessary convenience. Indeed, so true a fancier was he, that his extensive fowl-house was part.i.tioned off, so that his Brahmas, Cochin-chinas, Houdans, and other breeds should be in no danger of mixing.

It was Mr. Thorn's custom always to collect his eggs himself, the first thing after breakfast; and he never allowed any one to go into the fowl-house on any pretence whatever, unless in his company. Owing to this precaution the fowls were all very tame, while some would testify their pleased sense of his presence by stretching out their necks and uttering a little note of welcome. He was the more surprised, therefore, on the morning on which our story begins, to notice that all the fowls were in a state of intense excitement. To his astonishment, he found some of the doors communicating with the various sections of the house wide open, and the c.o.c.ks, that he had supposed were safely guarded from each other, fighting together fiercely. Evidently his sister was right.

Some other hand had collected the eggs.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MR. THORN'S EGGS?"]

As he was coming out, after having with some difficulty restored order, his little boy came running up to him, with his bag of books on his back, on his way to school, saying eagerly--

"I don't want to be dainty, papa, only it is tiresome to have nothing but bacon, when there are such lots of eggs."

"How do you know there are lots of eggs, my boy?"

"Because I hear the hens cackling every day, papa. This morning there was such a noise before I got up."

"Where did the noise come from, Ralph?"

"From the hen-house, papa."

"Are you quite sure, Ralph?"

"Quite, papa! Oh, I know they don't lay anywhere else, for I have looked so often to see if any of them laid their eggs in the garden. I looked this morning before breakfast."

"Very well, my boy; run off to school now. Perhaps we may find out soon where the hens do lay their eggs; but you had better not say anything about it to your schoolfellows."

"I tell you what it is, Bob--I don't believe you come honestly by that money. You never do any work to speak of, and yet every now and then you bring in a lot of money," said a pale-looking young woman to her husband, one morning, as he slouched in to breakfast, and threw a handful of silver on the table.

"A deal you know about it, Jane! If I get odd jobs that bring me in an odd shilling or two, what business is it of yours, I should like to know? If you and the little 'un have enough to eat, that's all you need trouble about."

"'Taint no concern of mine, Bob, and yet I can't help feeling a bit uncomfortable when I hear folks say that Mr. Thorn gets no eggs now."

"What do you know about Mr. Thorn's eggs?" asked her husband, roughly.

"Well, that gossiping Mrs. Smith told me that Mr. Thorn said as how his hens had taken to hiding their eggs of late. She said he thought they had nests somewhere, but he couldn't find them, and then she looked at them eggs I was frying for dinner so suspicious-like that I got quite red, for fear you had taken 'em."

Bob made no reply, but ate his breakfast in sullen silence. As he went out, his wife called after him--

"You try to get a reg'lar job, Bob, and don't go loafing about."

That evening Bob came in earlier than usual, and going up to his wife, who was rocking the cradle, said in a husky voice--

"Jane, my gal, I'm goin' to turn over a new leaf."

"Bless the man!" exclaimed Jane in alarm, as she saw unwonted tears in her husband's eyes. "Are you took bad, Bob?"

"No, Jane," he replied gently; "but I've been bad. Listen, old gal, and I'll tell you all about it. You were right when you said the money I brought you lately weren't all honestly come by."

"Oh, Bob!"

"Hush, my gal; don't interrupt me. It's hard on a fellow to have such a tale to tell. You know, Jennie, how long I've been out of reg'lar work, and how hard I tried to get some of the farmers round to take me on; but they all said they had nothing for me to do. Well, when you was took bad, I got desperate like; and one mornin', when I was doin' an odd job o' digging in Mr. Thorn's garden, I heard his hens a-cackling; and as I knowed when he collected the eggs, I got up early next day, and managed to slip in afore he was about; and as I wasn't found out, I did it again and again; and as I had nothing to do after the diggin', I walked to Market Littleton and sold 'em; and so I did many a time. Well, this morning I met Mr. Thorn in the village. I tried to skulk out of his way, but he walked up quite friendly-like, and says he, 'I wish I had known you were so fond of eggs. I'd have given you some,' says he, 'and welcome.' Well, I tried to brave it out, and swore I knew nought of his eggs, but he went on quite friendly in his funny way. 'Bob,' says he, 'you shall have as many as you like, only let me have the pleasure of getting them for you. It's a pity for you to get up so early, and have all the trouble of getting over the fence, and opening the door with a bit of wire, when I could send them to you without any fuss.' Well, Jane, I went down on my knees then, and I said, 'If you'll forgive me this time, sir, I'll never do it again; only don't send me to jail.

'Twould break my gal's heart, it would'; and then he puts half-a-crown into my hand, and he goes with me to a friend of his, and gets me taken on with the horses."

"Oh, Bob, how could you?" said Jane, crying; "and Mr. Thorn such a nice, kind-spoken gentleman! And oh, if anybody else knows, you'll get the name of a thief!"

"No one else does know, my gal, and I am sure that Mr. Thorn will keep it close. He said he 'spected me the day afore yesterday, when he seed me at Market Littleton sellin' some eggs, and says he, 'I didn't like to 'spect you, Bob; but after my 'spicions was roused, I watched yesterday mornin' and this mornin';' and as I was a-coming out of the hen-house this mornin', he seed me, and says he, "Tis an ill deed that has to be done in the dark, Bob.'"

A night or two afterwards, as Bob was pa.s.sing a building where services were being held, he fancied that he heard Mr. Thorn's voice, and he went into the porch to listen. Yes, it was John Thorn's voice. He was praying, and it seemed to Bob that he was praying for him. He prayed for those who were sorely tempted, and who had no strength to resist--who had never savingly heard the voice of the Lord, and who never used His name but in oaths. "That's me," said poor Bob, with a groan. After the prayer, the hymn, "Just as I am," was sung, and then a short address was given by the preacher.

"Needy sinners, come just as you are," said the preacher. "Jesus died for sinners. Come with all your sins upon you. Don't try to wash off some of the biggest ones; you will only make the dirty stains worse.

Come just as you are. You perhaps think of others--your old companions who will laugh at you, and so you are ashamed. Were you ashamed of that mean act you did in the dark the other morning?"

"He knows all about it," thought Bob, and he covered his face with his hands. At that moment of supreme misery, some one touched him on the shoulder, and looking up in terror, Bob saw the man whom he had robbed gazing down upon him, with his kind eyes full of pity and compa.s.sion for the poor sorrow-stricken man.

"You've bin and told him," hissed Bob.

"My poor fellow, I have told him nothing. G.o.d forbid that I should tell any one of the sin which you have confessed to me. Come in, Bob."

"I am so bad and so dirty."

"Your clothes are dirty, Bob," replied Mr. Thorn, glancing at Bob's soiled and shabby garments. "I wonder that you go on wearing them. They are too dirty to be washed."

"Too dirty to be washed, sir!" exclaimed Bob in amazement. "I have no others to change with, or my gal would very soon have them in the wash-tub."

"Very true, Bob. You have no clothes to change with, but if I gave you a clean coat, you would soon put it on, aye?"

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Thorn."