Lenny drew tip his head proudly.
"You are very fond of Flop, I suppose?"
"'Deed he is," said the Widow, "and of all poor dumb creatures."
"Very good. Suppose, my lad, that you had a fine apple, and you met a friend who wanted it more than you; what would you do with it?"
"Please you, sir, I would give him half of it."
The Parson's face fell.—"Not the whole, Lenny?"
Lenny considered.—"If he was a friend, sir, he would not like me to give him all!"
"Upon my word, Master Leonard, you speak so well, that I must e'en tell the truth. I brought you an apple, as a prize for good conduct in school. But I met by the way a poor donkey, and some one beat him for eating a thistle; so I thought I would make it up by giving him the apple. Ought I only to have given him the half?"
Lenny's innocent face became all smile; his interest was aroused. "And did the donkey like the apple?"
"Very much," said the Parson, fumbling in his pocket, but thinking of Leonard Fairield's years and understanding; and moreover, observing, in the pride of his heart, that here were many spectators to his deed, he thought the meditated twopence not sufficient, and he generously produced a silver sixpence.