remedies mamma gave him as soon as he confessed what he had done, and began to feel ill, would undo the mischief, but they did not. Earl had to bear the full consequences of his broken promise.

"Dear Earl, I am so sorry you are sick," cried Lilian, when she came in to see him the next morning.

Kneeling by the bed she put one arm under his aching head and threw the other over his shoulder, while Earl put one arm lovingly about his sister.

"I'm sorry, too," he said, "but really, Lilian, I'm sorrier that I did wrong. Mamma is so sorry she trusted me, and she says maybe she ought not to have let me go into temptation. She said that when we both promised she felt sure, and so let us go. Isn't it mean not to keep a promise when you're trusted?"

"I was mean not to help you keep yours, when I promised to," Lilian said, not wishing to scold Earl when he was ill in bed. "Mamma says," she went on, "that when I went security for you it meant that I must help you to keep your word as well as to say that I felt sure you would, so I didn't do my part as I should, you see."

"You told me to remember," said Earl.

"But not at the right time," said wise Lilian. "I ought to have looked to see if you remembered, when the time came. If I go your security after this, and promise that you'll not forget, I'll watch and tell you at the time."

"Do," said Earl. "You can think of things easier," which was true, Lilian being older and more thoughtful.

So the sister promised to make it as sure as she could that her brother would keep his promises after this. True, she sometimes forgot, herself, and Earl was not always willing to do right, even when reminded, but both were in earnest, and Lilian grew to be more and more of a help, feeling the responsibility of being her brother's security. Who will follow her example?

REAL FUN.

When Roy saw that Uncle Henry was in the shop getting the troughs and pails ready for the spring sap running, he made up his mind to ask if he couldn't go to the maple orchard with the men. He had heard them tell so much about the happy days among the big maples that he had wanted to go for a long while, and it seemed to Roy that he must be large enough this year to take his turn at the sap gathering. He asked Uncle Henry about it first.

"Can't I go to the sugar camp this year?"

Uncle Henry looked up from the buckets he was counting.

"Maybe you can! I'm ready enough to take you along for a week. But I want to tell you right here how it isn't all fun up there in the sugar camp. You hear us talking about the best side of those days, and we don't say anything about the backaches and such as that!"

Roy was a little surprised to hear Uncle Henry speak like that, but he was too brave to change his mind about going.

"There must be a lot of fun," he said, "and it's manly to do hard things."

Uncle Henry nodded.

"So 'tis! That's more real fun than playing at easy ones! If your folks are willing, get ready to start for the sugaring with me to-morrow morning. The yoke your father used when he was a boy is hanging up in the shop, and I guess your shoulders have grown broad enough to hold it on!" laughed Uncle Henry.

The very next morning they started for the sugar camp far up on the side of the mountain, and long before noontime they had built a fire in the log shack, and Roy was out in the woods helping Uncle Henry tap the maple trees.

Every minute after that was a busy one. The nights were crisp with frost, and the days were full of spring sunshine. For hours and hours each day Roy trudged through the snow wearing on his shoulders the yoke which had a pail hanging from either end, and after each trip into the woods he would turn two brimming pails of sap into the big kettle boiling over the fire.

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