A woman to the holy father went, Confe89Íon of sin was her intent; And so her misdemeanors, great and small, Sae faithfally rehearsed them all; And, chiefest in her catalogue of sin, She owned that she a tale-bearer had been, And born a bit of scandal up and down To all the long tongued gossips in the town. The hoiy father for her other sin (ïranted the absolutiou asked of him; Bat while for all the rest he pardon gave, He told her this offence was very grave, And that to do fit penace she must go Out by the wayside where the thistles grow, And gathering the largest, ripeBt one, Scatter its seeds, and that wlien this waa done, 8he must come back again another day To teil him his commands she did obey. The woman thinking thia a penance light, Hastened to do his will that very night, Feeling right glad she had escaped so well. Next day but one she went the priest to teil; The priest sat still and heard her story through, Thea said. "There's something still for you to do; Those little thistle seedn whioh you have BOWIl, I bid you go regather, every one?' [he woman said, "But, father, 'twould be vain To try to gather up those seeds again; The winds have scattered them both far and wide Oyer the meadow, vale and mountain-side." The father answered. "Now, I hope that from this The lesson I have taught you will not miss: You cannot gather back the scattered seeds, Which far and wide will grow to noxious weeds, Nor can the mischief once by scandal sown By any penance be again undone." - Montreal Witnesn.