But although Bob and Tom were very much ashamed, and wished all this had not happened, yet they could not leave off quarrelling between themselves. I am sure this was no time for quarrelling when everybody else was so sad; but Bob was saying to Tom, 'Well, it was you did it; it was not I. I was fighting that fellow Harry at the time.'

And Tom answered

'You teased him quite as much as me, and it was you first began to shake the bough. I never should have thought of it else.'

Now, you just shut up!' said Bob. That was his vulgar way of telling his brother to leave off talking. 'Who was it forced the little chap to climb the tree, whether he would or not, by beating his legs?'

'You did; you did as much as I did,' said Tom.

'You're as bad as me, whatever you may say. I didn't mean to make him fall, and you teased him more than I did. I declare you did.'

I think Tom was right for once. Bob was as bad as he was every bit, and worse than Tom for trying to lay all the blame on his brother.

So they amused themselves all the way home, squabbling and abusing each other.

Everybody in the village knew about poor little Toby's fall by the time they reached home; and one of the first questions Mr. Jackson asked of Bob was how it had happened.

Bob, then, still feeling spiteful towards his brother, said it was Tom did it; and Tom told how Bob had bullied little Toby as much as he had. And in the end, Mr. Jackson went to Mr. Lawley and asked to hear the truth.

When he returned home, Master Bob and Master Tom each got an uncommonly good flogging by way of supper.

And the very next day, Mr. Jackson sent them both back to school, sending word to their master what a wicked thing these boys had done, and begging that they might be kept very hard at their lessons, and have no play or half holidays for some time.

But all this, though it was a just punishment for Bob and Tom, could not mend poor little Toby's leg, nor take away all the pain he was bearing.

Children, will you try and remember a thing I am going to tell you? Something to remember, not for a little while only, but for all your life. It is this: We never can do anything without its making us either glad of it or sorry for it later

in life. We shall be glad for the good things, or sorry for the bad things sooner or later. I wonder if Bob or Tom will be sorry some day for what they have done? I am sure they will.

But do you know there are two kinds of sorrow. One is like this: if a boy does wrong, and feels so sorry that he makes up his mind that he will not do the same again, that is a good sorrow, for it makes the boy better. The other sort is when a boy is only frightened at what he has done, because of being punished; but he will go and do the same thing again, if he thinks he will not be found out. That last is a sorrow worth nothing, and is quite false.

We shall see, before this story comes to an end, how much worth Tom's and Bob's sorrow

was.

I ought to tell you that Polly, the parrot, was taken back to Dr. Groves the morning after the pic-nic, and Dr. Groves was very glad to see him again; and I think Polly was cured of flying away from home, for she had not been at all comfortable or happy in Cheveleigh Wood, and had been dreadfully frightened of the thunder and lightning when she was left alone in the waggon, and she could not for some time recover from the teasing of the Jackson boys. At first she was very silent,

and would hardly eat anything, until one day she took it into her head to tell her master all about it when she began to chatter; and she chattered for such a long time, and talked such nonsense, that the cook at Doctor Groves's said she thought the bird must have gone mad, and that she would never let Polly go to another pic-nic, whoever elǝs did.

CHAPTER XVI.

LITTLE TOBY.

T did not take many weeks for Toby's leg to mend that got quite strong after a while; but though his leg was whole again, Toby could not walk. His back was hurt by the fall, and he was a cripple. Everybody was very good to the little boy; they were every day bringing him flowers and fruit, or picture-books to look at; for Toby had always been such a goodtempered and kind little boy that everybody loved him. And Harry never left his little brother; he used to sit by the sofa, where he lay all day long, and read story-books to him, and try to amuse him.

After some time Toby was allowed to go out of doors. He could not walk, not even with crutches; but he was drawn in a wheeled chair.

He looked so small and thin, and so pale, that