And Alfred came up the steps very slowly.
“What have you got in your mouth, my dear?” said Alfred’s mamma.
Not one word did Alfred answer; but he looked down, and turned very red. His mother knew, from his looks, that he had been doing something that was not right. He did not have that bright, happy face which he usually wore.
Alfred’s mother said to him,
“My son, open your mouth.”
When Alfred opened his mouth, O, how sorry I am to tell it of him! he showed a large green grape, tucked away in the corner of his mouth, which he put into his hand as quickly as possible. His mamma took the grape out of Alfred’s hand, and led him up stairs into her bed-room. She said to him,
“Alfred, how many of those grapes have you eaten?”
“Just one besides this, mamma,” said he, crying very much.
“Why did you eat them, Alfred?” said his mother. “Did not I tell you that you must not do so?”
“Yes, mamma; but they looked so very good.”