"Joe is such a darling child," said his grandmother as she placed his little shoes and socks over near the hearth, and then reached over to stir the pot of tomatoes she was cooking to can for the winter.

"Yes," responded his grandfather, "he's quite a bit like Mary was when she was small. She never murmured nor complained, but always seemed happy and cheerful. Many times we could not give her the things she really needed, but we did the best we could, and she understood."

It had been over a year now since Mary and Earl were killed in an accident, and their little eight-year-old son had escaped uninjured.

His mother's last words to him were: "Joe, son, I want you to be a good little boy and always tell the truth." He had promised her that he would, and he meant to keep his promise.

And now, ever since her death, Joe had been doing the best he could, and Jesus was helping him. Sometimes he felt lonesome after he went to live with his grandparents. He missed his playmates, Billy and Bobby White, and he missed his mother and father most of all.

Poor boy! He hardly knew what to do with himself. He wished he had a puppy like Teddy Anderson, but unfortunately Grandmother wasn't fond of dogs. Tina, her cat, and a strange dog might not get along together too well, she thought.

Then one day when Joe was coming home from school, he saw a puppy making its way toward him through the field. At first the youth kept on singing and bouncing his ball, and pretending that he didn't see the little mongrel. The boy's face had a bewildered look as he watched the pup come dashing after him. "You!" he called. "Go back! Go home!"

The pup kept right on running toward him. He didn't seem to be very obedient for some reason. Then our young friend stopped and took the persisting creature in his arms and petted it. "That's a good doggy," he whispered, as he softly stroked its head, this time calling it "Rover." The pup didn't recognize the name Rover, but it liked the tone of the boy's voice. It tried to lick his face and seemed to be happy. How our little friend wished he could have it. "Probably," he thought, "the puppy belongs to Mr. Johnson." Mr. Johnson only lived up the road a piece, and he would find out.

"Yes," Mr. Johnson said, after looking into the boy's clear blue eyes, "that is one of Shep's pups. I wish I could find a good home for it. Would you like to have it, son?"

"Why, thank you, Mr. Johnson," the boy suddenly heard himself saying, "I'd love to have it, if Grandmother is willing."

"All right," Mr. Johnson agreed readily.

Joe walked more slowly as he neared the bend in the road, beyond which his grandparents lived. The boy knew that he ought not to have taken the pup, but having yielded, he was trying to figure out how he could introduce it favorably so as to insure a welcome for it. As the youth drew near the house, an idea came to him. Yes, he thought of something that would solve the problem. And he wouldn't have to tell a lie either-he hoped.

The lad waited until he was where he could not be seen from the house; then he put the puppy down, let it go a little way, and when in sight of the house, he picked it up. As he did so, he had an uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching him, perhaps someone not too far away. The smoke house door was open.

Joe went on to the house, his heart pounding under his little blue and white sweater, and after playing with the puppy a few minutes, he then picked up his books and ball, and reluctantly followed the young dog on into the living room. His grandmother soon came in through the kitchen.

"Look," said Joe, pointing to the pup, "what I found outside. It's awfully mean, I think, for people to drop puppies out. If they don't want them, they should give them away. It may be hungry. May I give it a saucer of milk, Grandmother?"

"Yes," Grandmother answered briefly. Somehow or other, our young friend felt that his grandmother was eyeing him with keen disapproval.

That night when Grandfather came back from town, he asked, "Oh, where did you get the pup, son?" And Joe told about picking it up near the house.

"How do it and Tina get along?" Grandfather inquired, as he bent over and patted the little animal on the head.

"They haven't had any trouble so far," the grandson assured him eagerly.

"That is true," Grandmother agreed, "because I kept Tina shut up in the barn all afternoon."

"Well," Grandfather remarked, after a moment's silence, "they may get a-long all right when they get acquainted."

Now, Joe and his grandparents were sitting at table and ready to eat supper.

"What are you going to name the pup?" questioned Grandfather.

Joe said nothing. The pup stood near the table twitching its ears, as if it knew that it was under discussion. The boy would much rather his grandmother speak her mind than to be so quiet. And presently she looked up at her husband and said, "I guess we'll call the pup 'Joe.' We'll let it be our grandson's namesake."

Joe drew a long breath, for now he was certain that his grandmother had been in the smoke house and had seen him coming up the road with the puppy - had seen him drop it - pick it up - had known perfectly well that he had deliberately intended to deceive her and his grandfather.

With the puppy looking up in his face, the boy now was doing some hard, sober thinking. He desired the respect of his grandparents. At last, with his little body trembling, he said to himself over and over, "I promised Mother that I would always tell the truth, and I must keep that promise."

So, in a voice choking with sobs, he told his grandparents the whole wretched story, and then asked them to forgive him. He even offered to take the puppy back home.

"May I give it a new name, too? 'Rover' perhaps," he added with a shine in his bright blue eyes.

"We'll rename it 'Rover' right here," his grandfather said, and, through his tears, smiled, "for you are a dear brave boy!"

Grandmother nodded, and then patted the puppy affectionately. It jumped up at her, its little paws making dirty marks on her clean white apron. Presently a low whine from under the table reminded her of the pup's hunger, and a momentary pang of pity, mixed with irritation, shot through her. She hurriedly put some scraps down near the pup, which scrambled out and ate them up noisily, and then looked up at her apologetically and whined a little under its breath; then catching her glance, wagged its tail hopefully, while Tina made a deep threatening sound and gave a low muttered complaint from the other side of the table. Her tense crouch and glaring eyes were telling her rival, "That's close enough, pup!"

"Here, Rover! Here, Rover!" Joe called pleadingly. At that moment the boy tripped right over the pup and they both landed in a heap near the table.

The cat sprang behind the wood box, and, for a moment, stood paralyzed, too frightened to move. Then she leaped up in the window and peered out. Quickly she took to a near-by chair and blinked, hardly able to believe her eyes, as she stared down at her new neighbor, who was licking out a dish that she usually ate from. Tina craned her neck, but before she could catch another glimpse of the young dog, Grandmother let her out through the side door.

Now that the cat was out, everything seemed very quiet again. Joe just sat back with a smile on his face. And then the phone rang. It was Mr. Johnson calling about the pup and its new home. "Yes, I guess we're going to let him keep it, Mr. Johnson . . ."

Joe, who was listening very carefully, looked at his grandfather and, after smiling delightedly, said, "Oh, I'm so glad! Aren't you, Grandpa?"

That night, as Joe sat in the living room getting up his lessons, the young dog trotted over and lay down at his feet - just as it did when the Johnson boy was getting up his lessons.

"Well, it certainly seems to feel at home," said Grandmother. "I don't know whether to put it out or to leave it in tonight."

Rover was perfectly contented to stay where he was. And when Grandmother came over to pet him. he rolled over on his side and lazily stretcher out his big feet toward Joe, his new, but happy master.

"That settles it," said the grandmother. "I'm going to let you stay in where you'll be safe till you get older."

She then folded an old blanket across the lounge and stroked Rover on the head, showing him that he could sleep there.

At last, Joe was really happy. He didn't think he would be much afraid in telling the truth any more. And besides that, he was going to keep the pup-and name it Rover. Then, with a smile, he wiped the tears from his little eyes while Grandmother held him close. Everything was all right now for the little fellow, who could not cover his sin and be happy.

Remember my reader, "there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known."

It was Eliphaz the Temanite one of Job's three friends, who said. "Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth; therefore despise not thou the chastening of the Almighty" (Job 5:17).