That fellow was sitting on
the step digging his teeth into one of the apples. I thought: "Well,
that's polite, starting on his own before he gives the other to his
guest!" It rather disgusted me. Directly Bob came round the corner,
kind of sheepish like, and what do you suppose he did? Well, fellows,
he offered me _the bitten apple_!
That was enough for me. Take it? I guess not. I turned on my heel
without a word and went straight home. I don't think anything ever
inspired more contempt in me as a boy than that piece of petty
thievery.
Of course, fellows, that was not a Christian way to treat an erring
playmate, and I fear I had very little charity in my heart; I am just
telling you frankly how that act of Bob's impressed me. And it was
only in the beginning of Bob's eventful career. Twenty-five years
later, Bob's name was in the daily papers all over the country. He
had gotten away with a big sum of money that belonged to others who
had trusted him, and now he is a poor hunted fugitive from his native
land, if indeed he is alive.
The boy who begins taking just a bite of somebody else's apple is
likely going to pull off _something big_ some day!
Suppose Bob's mother had handed him seven apples and asked him to save
one of them for her, and he had made away with the whole lot, don't
you think that would have been pretty mean and low down?
Listen, fellows, something mighty close to that--only a lot worse--is
happening with boys to-day who look upon themselves as the souls of
honour.
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