"I'm sure you will never throw another stone at him," said Mrs. Monson, seriously. "The doctor said it was a wonder it had not killed him." She lifted the bandage and showed him the blackened skin.
Oscar's lip quivered; and, with another burst of tears, he sobbed out,—
"I never was sorry before. I wish you'd lick me; I'd feel better;—I would."
"No," said the lady, kindly; "Charley and I want to do something better than that; we wish to forgive you, and try to make you a better boy."
Then Charley took Oscar's hand, and whispered,—
"I love you, Oscar."
To his surprise the boy threw himself on the floor, and sobbed as if his heart would break.
His mother began to scold him; but he paid no attention to her; he kept sobbing out,—
"Oh, dear! I'm sorry. I wish you'd lick me. Oh, oh! I never was sorry before. Oh, dear!"