Bob Turner, as usual, seated himself beside Tip; but then Bob only came to school about two forenoons in a week, so perhaps they might get along. When the Bible reading commenced, Tip hesitated, and his face flushed; he had never owned a Bible to read from before, but this morning his new one lay in his pocket. The question was, Had he courage to take it out? What would the boys think? What would they say? How should he answer them? He began to think he would wait until tomorrow morning; then he grew hot and ashamed as he saw that he was already trying to hide his colours. Suddenly he drew out his Bible, and began very hurriedly to turn the leaves. Bob heard the rustling, and, glancing around, puckered his lips as if he were going to whistle, and, snatching the book, read the name which Mr. Holbrook had written therein; then he whispered, "You don't say so! When did we steal a Bible, and turn saint?" The blood growing hotter and redder in Tip's cheeks was his only answer; but he felt that his temptation had begun. The next thing was to read; when he had finally found the place, even though there were more than fifty voices reading those same words, yet poor Tip imagined that his would be louder than all the rest, and he choked and coughed, and made more than one trial before he forced his voice to join, even in a whisper, at the words, "And they clothed Him with purple, and plaited a crown of thorns and put it about His head." It did not help him in his reading that Bob made his lips move with the rest, but said, loud enough for him to hear,-- "The man in the moon Came down too soon," and continued to repeat some senseless or wicked rhymes, through the reading of the beautiful chapter. How thankfully Tip bowed his head that morning; his heart had taken in some of the sweet words. That sacred head had been crowned with thorns, indeed, but he knew it was crowned with glory now,--and he knew that Christ had suffered and died for him! He joined with his whole heart in Mr. Burrows's prayer; and, though Bob pulled his hair and tickled his foot and stepped on his toes, the bowed head was not lifted, and his spirit gathered strength. But Tip never forgot the trials of that day, nor the hard work which he had to endure them. Bob was, as usual, overflowing with mischief, and, failing in finding the willing helper which he had expected in his old companion, took revenge in aiming a great many of his pranks at him. Such senseless, silly things as he did to annoy! Tip spread his slate over with a long row of figures which he earnestly tried to add, and, having toiled slowly up the first two columns, Bob's wet finger was slyly drawn across it, and no trace of the answer so hardly earned appeared.