his hoop," he added, as he resumed his march.

"Did your Sunday-school teacher tell you to do that?"

"No; but I just fought I would. He couldn't give me half of it, you see,
for it wouldn't be good for anyfing if it was busted."

"No?" The stranger felt that the child's logic was better than his
moral tone.

"I'm going to be good now, all ve time," the boy went on, looking up with
an angelic smile. "When my mamma says 'No, Mac,' I shall say 'All right,'
and when my papa smites me, I shall turn ve uvver also. Vat's ve way."

"Does he smite you?"

The smile vanished, as the child slowly nodded three times.

"Yes, awful."

"What did you do to make him smite you?"

Silence.

"What was it?"

The stranger's voice was not so stern as it might have been, and the
smile came back and dimpled the child's cheeks, as he answered,--"Pepper
in ve dining-room fireplace."