Stories for the Young | Page 8

but it
was--not, alas, to admire the apples, for apples there were none left, but
to lament the robbery, and console the widow. Meantime the redstreaks
were safely lodged in Giles' hovel, under a few bundles of hay, which
he had contrived to pull from the farmer's mow the night before, for the
use of his jackasses.
Such a stir, however, began to be made about the widow's apple-tree,
that Giles, who knew how much his character laid him open to
suspicion, as soon as he saw the people safe in church again in the
afternoon, ordered his boys to carry each a hatful of the apples, and
thrust them in at a little casement window, which happened to be open
in the house of Samuel Price, a very honest carpenter in that parish,
who was at church with his whole family. Giles' plan, by this
contrivance, was to lay the theft on Price's sons, in case the thing
should come to be further inquired into. Here Dick put in a word, and
begged and prayed his father not to force them to carry the apples to

Price's. But all that he got by his begging was such a knock as had
nearly laid him on the earth.
"What, you cowardly rascal," said Giles, "you will go and _peach_, I
suppose, and get your father sent to jail."
Poor widow Brown, though her trouble had made her still weaker than
she was, went to church again in the afternoon; indeed, she rightly
thought that her being in trouble was a new reason why she ought to go.
During the service she tried with all her might not to think of her
redstreaks; and whenever they would come into her head, she took up
her prayer-book directly, and so she forgot them a little; and, indeed,
she found herself much easier when she came out of the church than
when she went in--an effect so commonly produced by prayer, that
methinks it is a pity people do not try it oftener.
Now it happened oddly enough, that on that Sunday, of all the Sundays
in the year, the widow should call in to rest a little at Samuel Price's, to
tell over again the lamentable story of the apples, and to consult with
him how the thief might be brought to justice. But O, reader, guess, if
you can, for I am sure I cannot tell you, what was her surprise, when,
on going into Samuel Price's kitchen, she saw her own redstreaks lying
in the window! The apples were of a sort too remarkable for color,
shape, and size, to be mistaken. There was not such another tree in the
parish.
Widow Brown immediately screamed out, "'Las-a-day! as sure as can
be, here are my redstreaks; I can swear to them in any court." Samuel
Price, who believed his sons to be as honest as himself, was shocked
and troubled at the sight. He knew he had no redstreaks of his own; he
knew there were no apples in the window when he went to church; he
did verily believe these apples to be the widow's. But how they came
there he could not possibly guess. He called for Tom, the only one of
his sons who now lived at home. Tom was at the Sunday-school, which
he had never once missed since Mr. Wilson the minister had set one up
in the parish. Was such a boy likely to do such a deed?
A crowd had by this time got about Price's door, among which was

Giles and his boys, who had already taken care to spread the news that
Tom Price was the thief. Most people were unwilling to believe it. His
character was very good, but appearances were strongly against him.
Mr. Wilson now came in. He was much concerned that Tom Price, the
best boy in his school, should stand accused of such a crime. He sent
for the boy, examined, and cross-examined him. No marks of guilt
appeared. But still, though he pleaded _not guilty,_ there lay the
redstreaks in his father's window.
All the idle fellows in the place, who were most likely to have
committed such a theft themselves, fell with great vengeance on poor
Tom. The wicked seldom give any quarter. "This is one of your
sanctified ones!" cried they. "This was all the good that Sunday-schools
did! For their parts, they never saw any good come by religion. Sunday
was the only day for a little pastime; and if poor boys must be shut up
with their godly books, when they ought to be out taking a little
pleasure, it was no wonder they made themselves amends by such
tricks."
Another said he should like to see parson Wilson's righteous one well
whipped.