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“The truth!” replied John, “ I don’t wish to deny it; but it is time enough when one is asked; mamma will see the milk when she comes here.”
Charles waited no longer, hut set off himself in search of his mother, whom he expected to find in the next room ironing; hut as she was not there he ran off to the garden, under the notion that ho should find her there.
John being now left alone, began to cast about how he should get himself out of the scrape. “If we were both,” thought he, “to say that we were not concerned in spilling the milk, mother would be sure to believe us, and there would be no more of the matter.”
While he was contriving these excuses, he heard his mother coming up the stair—“Oh, oh!” said he, “so mamma has not been in the garden after all, and Charles has not seen her; now I may say what I please.”
So this eowardly sneaking boy resolved to tell his mamma a downright falsehood.
Of eource, when she entered the room, her eye immediately caught the broken dish and the spilled milk.
“Pray, John,” said she, “what has been the eause of this?”
“I don't know, ma’am,” said John.
“You don’t know ?—I think you do know; and if such is the case, you had better at onco tell the truth—you know how often I have SIC you against telling fibs. The worst is, should you have spilled the milk, that you will lose a part of your supper; but rather than tell a lie I would sooner you had broken fifty basins; so I ask you again,—John, did you spill the milk?”
“No, ma’am,” again repeated John, in a low tone of voice, while he coloured up to the ears.
“Then where’s Charles? did he do it?”
“No,” said John, “he did not;” for he had some thoughts that when Charles appeared, he would be persuaded to baek him in his naughty falsehood.
“And how do you know,” rojoined his mother, “that Charles did not do it?”
“Why, mamma—because—because,” and here John
