"Well, sir, to-day Aunt Hannah wanted a cup of tea so badly that she cried for it, sir—cried like any little baby, and said she would die if she didn't get it; and so I brought my book to town this afternoon and sold it to get the money to buy what she wanted."
"But you had the pocketbook full of money; why didn't you take some of that?"
"The Lord says 'Thou shalt not steal!'"
"But that would have been only taking in advance what would certainly have been offered to you as a reward."
"I did think of that when aunt was crying for tea; but then I knew John Hancock never would have done so, and I wouldn't, so I sold my book."
"There, uncle! I said so! Now! now! what do you think now?" exclaimed Claudia.
"It must have cost you much to part with your treasure, my boy!" said Mr. Middleton, without heeding the interruption of Claudia.
Ishmael's features quivered, his eyes filled with tears and his voice failed in the attempt to answer.
"There is your book, my lad! It would be a sin to keep it from you," said Mr. Middleton, taking a packet from the bottom of the sleigh and laying it upon Ishmael's knees.
"My book! my book again! Oh, oh, sir! I—" His voice sank; but his pale face beamed with surprise, delight, and gratitude.