Willy did not stir. "Old iron is worth money, little boy." "Yes; I know that." "And what business have you with it?" "Going to sell it." "What? Without asking mother, you naughty boy?" Willy set the heavy basket on the next lower stair. "So you went up stairs for that iron without leave? What a wicked boy!" Willy set the basket on another stair. "Bellows' nose, old tea-kettle, rusty nails," said Seth, examining the basket. "Willy Parlin, do you know this is stealing." "'Tisn't, neither!" "But I tell you it is! Just as much stealing as if you took money out of father's wallet." "I don't steal," said Willy, setting the basket on another stair. Seth was growing exasperated. "If you don't intend to mind me, Willy Parlin, and carry back that iron, I shall have to go and tell father." "Then you'll be a tell-tale, Mr. Seth." "Do you think I'll have my little brother grow up a thief?" "I wasn't a thief; but you're a tell-tale. You said, yesterday, little boys mustn't tattle, and I guess big boys mustn't tattle, neither," chuckled the aggravating Willy, dragging his basket of iron into the kitchen. "Mother," said Seth, as Mrs. Parlin passed through the shed with a pan of sour milk, "there's got to be something done with Willy; he has taken to stealing." Mrs. Parlin set the pan upon a bench, and sank down on the meat-block, too weak to stand. "I caught him just now, mother, lugging off a great basket full of old iron; and if you don't go right in and stop him, he'll take it up to the store to sell." "Is that all?" exclaimed Mrs. Parlin, drawing a deep breath. "Why, how you frightened me! His father gave him leave to collect what old iron he could find, and sell it to make up for the medal he lost the other day." "Well there, mother, I'm glad to hear it--that's a fact! But why didn't the little rogue tell me? I declare, he deserves a good whipping for imposing upon me so." "He ought to have told you; but perhaps you spoke harshly to him, my son. You know Willy can't bear that." "I don't think I was very harsh, mother. You wouldn't have me see the child doing wrong, and not correct him--would you?" "His father and I are the ones to correct him," replied Mrs. Parlin. "Willy has too many masters and mistresses. Next time you see him doing what you think is wrong, let me know it, but don't scold him!" Mrs. Parlin had said this before, but it was something Seth never could remember. Willy sold the iron, returned a bright new quarter to Miss Judkins, and felt happy again, especially as there were ten cents left, which his father kindly allowed him to keep.