A. L. O. E.'s PICTURE STORY BOOK.
[I. "THE HYMN MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME."]
"GET away with ye, will ye, Ben Madden! I don't want you a-sneaking about my stall to see what you can be laying your fingers on!" exclaimed Betty Wiggins, the cross old dame who sold biscuits and cakes at the corner of High Street.
The poor orphan boy thus rudely addressed slunk back a pace or two from the tempting stall. His young heart was burning with anger, and indignant tears rose into his eyes.
"I never in my life took what did not belong to me," muttered Ben; "my poor mother taught me something better than that."