are very apt to nibble off the edge of the crust. This time, I see, they
have not meddled with it."

The pie was cut; but alas! for the hollowness of human triumphs; the
knife met a wilderness of crust and vacancy, but no cherries. The
bed-room pantry had a window opening on a shed, and into that window
Fred, the scape-grace, had adroitly climbed, carefully lifted the upper
crust from the cherished pie, and abstracted all the cherries. My mother
locked him up, for punishment, but having unfortunately selected a sort
of store-room pantry, he made himself sick with sweetmeats, broke all
the jars he could lay hands on, and, finally, discovering a pair of
scissors, he worked at the lock, spoiled it, and let himself out.

At one time, being rather short of cash, he helped himself to a
five-dollar bill from my mother's drawer; but even _his_ conscience
scarcely resting under so heavy an embezzlement, he got it changed, took
half a dollar, and then put the rest back in the drawer. This
considerateness led to a discovery; they all knew that no one but Fred
would have been guilty of so foolish, and at the same time so dishonest
a thing.

My favorite brother was Henry; just three years older than myself,
manly, amiable, and intellectual in his tastes, he appeared to me
infinitely superior to any one I had ever seen; and we two were almost
inseparable. In winter he always carried me to school on his sled, saw
that Fred did not rob me of my dinner, and was always ready to explain a
difficult lesson. He was an extremely enterprising boy, with an
inexhaustible fund of ingenuity and invention; but, like most geniuses,
received more blame than praise. When quite small he constructed a sort
of gun made of wood, which would discharge a small ball of paper,