“Alice, Alice!” said Mr. Burton, softly. “Remember that the poor child is not old enough to have learned what stealing means.”
“Then he shall learn now!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, all of her righteous sense upon the alert. “What do you suppose would become of you if you were to die to-night?”
“Won’t die!” sobbed Toddie. “If angel comes to kill me like he did the ’Gyptians, I’ll hide.”
“No one could hide from the angel of the Lord,” said Mrs. Burton, determined that fear should do what reason could not.
“Why, he doesn’t carry no lanternzh wif him in de night-time, does he?” said Toddie.
Mr. Burton laughed but his wife silenced him with a glance and answered:
“He can see well enough to find bad little boys when he wants them.”
“Ain’t bad,” screamed Toddie, “an’ I won’t give you de uvver grapes now, dat we brought home in a flower-pot.”
“Come to uncle, old boy,” said Mr. Burton, taking the doleful child upon his knee again, and caressing him tenderly. “Tell uncle all about it, and he’ll see if you can’t be set all right.”
