SHE was four and he was six. She sat on the piano stool, and he stood beside her; and I, behind the curtain, heard their talk.

“I picked out the biggest one there was, and brought it on purpose for you and me.”

“But we mustn’t eat it, because mamma wouldn’t like it; you know she wouldn’t, Freddy.”

“She wouldn’t care if it didn’t hurt us, and it wouldn’t. Who ever heard of an apple hurting anybody? You just take a big bite, and then I will.”

“No, Freddy, I can’t, and you can’t. Mamma said if they were hard, we mustn’t.”

“That ain’t so very hard. Mamma is in a worry. Aunt Mag said it wouldn’t hurt us; she said mamma worried about things. If she doesn’t know, she can’t worry. Let’s go behind the curtain and eat it, then if mamma comes up, she won’t see us.”

“No, Freddy. God can see us behind the curtain, as well as he can in this room, and this apple is as hard as a rock. Now, Freddy, let’s be true.”

“Well,” said Freddy, “we will.”

Pansy.