Bo—Well, you know that night I came home late? I did not actually tell a lie, but I twisted the truth. Ma, dear, if I tell you all about that day, promise you won't get angry—Father Clement says anger is a mortal sin.
Ma—Never mind that, I take care of my own conscience, just tell me about that day.
Bo—Well, then, I went up to St. Thomas' as you know, after luncheon, while waiting for the train to come home, a freight car passed and slowed up. I heard a fellow say, "Hello," I said "Hello," too, and when I looked up at him, I saw he was a friend of mine.
Ma—A friend of yours!
Bo—Yes, Ma, dear, I often see that fellow when I am waiting at the station; his name is Warner. He let me on his train several times.
Ma—Oh, my son! how could you be so disobedient! Getting on trains when you know I have strictly forbidden it.
Bo—I know it was an awful mortal sin, and I came near being made to repent of it all my life. One of the college boys had made me mad, that was the reason I started for home. When I got to the station, Warner was standing on his train, he said: "Hello! are you the little kid that helped me stoke the fire last fall?" I said I wasn't a kid now; I was ten years old. "That's so," said he, "come to look at you, you're round as a barrel, but you ain't growed taller." Then I told him to shut up, and he said: "Oh, don't get mad, just step inside the caboose, I'll give you a ride to Dorton, and you can walk back home." I got into the caboose, and Warner laughed and talked, and I never felt the time going until we came to a standstill and I found myself at Lockfaren.
Ma—Great goodness, Bolax, it is a wonder you were not killed! Oh, how could you be so wicked, and who helped you home?