Part 6
At last he is ready to start; but just as he leaves the house a bell is rung. "What is that?" says Lewis; "it must be the bell of the steamer. I have no time to go round by the school; I must go straight to the pier," and off he ran. But, alas! by the time he reached the pier the boat was steaming off. He could see the children with their pails and spades waving their handkerchiefs in glee, and there was he left behind!
I was telling this story to a little boy once, and when it came to this part he said: "Oh, auntie! could not they get a little boat and take Lewis to the steamer? It is so hard for him to be left behind."
But you see, boys and girls, we =must= be left behind, if we are slow and lazy.
I am glad to tell you, however, that Lewis was cured of his fault by this disappointment. He really did try to get on more quickly afterwards, and he succeeded. At school he had his sums finished so soon that the teacher began to let him help the other boys who did not get on so well, and Lewis was quite proud and happy. Then he came to school so early that he was made "monitor," and had to put out the slates and books, ready for the others. So, after all, Lewis grew up to be smart and quick, and not like the man you will hear of in another story (Story Lesson 84), who grew worse as he grew older.
(Blackboard.)
Do not be Slow and Lazy, or you will be always "Too Late".
XXVI. ALL WORK HONOURABLE.
62. The Chimney-sweep.
"Mother," said little Frank, "I saw a man walking along the street to-day with a bundle of brushes in his hand, and such a black face. I was careful not to touch him as I passed, he looked so dirty--quite a 'blackamoor'"!
"Ah!" said his mother, "that was a chimney-sweep; he cannot =help= being dirty, and my little boy ought to feel very kindly to him, for we should be badly off without such men."
Not many days afterwards there was a storm. How the wind blew and roared! All through the night it rattled the windows and whistled in the chimney. Frank's mother went downstairs early in the morning to make a fire, but as soon as she lighted it, puff! the smoke came down the chimney, and filled the room, and she was obliged to let the fire go out.
Down came the children for breakfast, and Frank cried: "Is the fire not lighted, mother? I am so cold; and oh! the house =is= smoky."
"I have tried to light a fire," said his mother, "but the smoke blows down the chimney. I think it needs sweeping; I shall have to give you milk for breakfast; there is no nice, hot coffee for you, because the fire will not burn."
After breakfast Frank's brother went to fetch the chimney-sweep, who soon came, and with his long brushes brought down all the soot, which he carried away in a bag. Then the fire burned merrily, making the room look quite bright and cheerful, and Frank said: "Thank you, Mr. Chimney-sweep, for your good work. I will never call you 'blackamoor' again; and when I meet you in the street, I will not think you are too dirty to speak to."
Frank had learnt two lessons:--
(Blackboard)
1. Some Work makes Men Black. 2. We must be kind to these Men, for we Need their Work.
XXVII. BAD COMPANIONS.
63. Playing with Pitch.
You have seen the men at work mending the roads, and you know how sometimes they spread little stones all over the road, and then roll them flat with a steam-roller. But in some places the roads are laid with stones as large as bricks, and when these have all been placed together, the men take a large can with a spout, full of hot pitch, and pour it into the spaces between the stones to fasten them together.
A little boy, named Martin, was watching the men do this one day, and he said to himself, "I should like a piece of that black stuff; it has cooled now, and looks like a black piece of dough; I could make all sorts of shapes with it, and I do not believe it would soil my hands". So he picked up a length that lay near him, rolled it into a ball, and put it in his pocket. Some of the tar stuck to his hands, and when he washed them it did not come off, but it was now school time, and away he went. When he came out of school, he put his hand in his pocket to get the tar, and oh, what a sticky mess it was! His pocket was all over tar, so was his hand, and when he reached home, his mother set to work to get it off, and it took her a long, long time.
Martin was mistaken in thinking he could play with the pitch and not get soiled.
64. Stealing Strawberries.
When Martin grew older he had some playmates who were not very good, and his mother said, "Martin, I wish you would not play with those boys; I fear they will get you into trouble".
"Oh! no, mother," replied Martin, "if they =wanted= me to do anything wrong I would not; I need not learn their bad ways if I =do= play with them." But his mother shook her head, for she knew better.
Some time afterwards the boys had a half-holiday, and Martin went with his friends into the country. Presently they came to a large garden, with a high wall round it, and the boys began to climb the wall.
"Where are you going?" asked Martin.
"Oh!" said one of the boys, laughing, "a friend of ours owns this garden, and we are going to help him gather strawberries."
There was a large bed of strawberries on the other side of the wall, and as soon as the boys were over, they began to pick and eat.
What the boy had told Martin was quite untrue--they were =stealing= the strawberries; but before very long the gardener spied them, and with one or two other men came upon them so quietly, that they had no time to get away, and every boy was made prisoner. The gardener locked them up in the tool-house until the owner came, and he took their names and addresses, and said they should be brought before the magistrates, as it was not the first time they had stolen his fruit. Of course Martin had not been with them the other times, but he was caught with them now, and can you imagine how dreadfully ashamed he felt, and how his cheeks burned when he thought of his dear mother, and the trouble it would be to her. When he reached home, he told his mother all that had happened, and begged her forgiveness. His mother was greatly distressed, and said: "You remember playing with the pitch, Martin, when you were a very little boy--you thought you could handle it, and still keep clean, but you could not; so neither can you have bad companions without being mixed up in wrong-doing".
(Blackboard.)
To mix with Bad Company is like Playing with Pitch.
XXVIII. ON FORGETTING.
65. Maggie's Birthday Present.
It was Maggie's birthday, and her father brought her as a present something that she had been wishing for a very long time. It was a beautiful yellow canary, and its little house was the prettiest cage imaginable, for it was made of brass wire, which was so bright that you could almost think it was gold. Of course Maggie was delighted. "It is just what I have been wishing for," said she; "I shall feed the canary myself, and give it fresh water every day; it is the prettiest bird I ever saw."
For some weeks Maggie remembered her little pet each day, and attended to all its wants, but there came a day when there was to be a picnic for all the school children, and Maggie was so excited and glad about the picnic that she forgot all about feeding the bird.
Then next day there was hay-making, and she was in the field all day, and again forgot the poor bird.
This went on for a few days, and when at last she =did= remember, and went to the cage, the bird was dead.
Maggie was full of grief, and cried until her head ached, but she could not undo the results of her forgetting.
Some people think it is a =little= fault to forget, but that cannot be, for we know well that "forgetting" often causes pain and suffering to others.
(Blackboard.)
Forgetting often causes Pain.
66. The Promised Drive.
Daniel was a lame little boy. He could not walk at all, nor play about with the other children, so he was very puny and pale. His mother used to put his little chair near the door of the cottage where they lived, so that he could watch the people pass, and one day, as he sat there, a lady came by with a well-dressed little boy, and when she saw the pale-faced child she stopped and spoke to him, and then Daniel's mother came to the door, and invited her to step inside the cottage.
The lady's little boy was called Emil, and he stood on the doorstep talking to Daniel, while the two mothers spoke together within the cottage. Emil, who was a kind-hearted little fellow, felt very sorry for the lame child, and when he found that Daniel was never able to go any farther than the street where he lived, Emil said: "I will ask my father to bring his carriage round and take you for a drive; I am sure he will, and then you can see the green fields and trees, and hear the birds sing".
Daniel's little face flushed with pleasure, and he said; "Oh that would be lovely!"
By-and-by the lady and her boy said "Good-bye," and went away, and then Daniel told his mother all that Emil had said. "Do you think he will come to-morrow, mother?" asked Daniel.
"Perhaps not to-morrow, dear," replied she, "but some day soon maybe."
So Daniel sat at the door each day, and waited for the carriage, but it never came, and when he grew too ill to sit up he would still lie and listen for the sound of the wheels, and say: "I think it will come to-day, mother," but it never did. And do you know why? Emil had forgotten to ask his father, and so Daniel waited in vain for the drive.
You see how much pain and disappointment can be caused by forgetting, and when you promise to do a thing and forget to =keep= the promise it is just like telling an untruth. You do not =intend= to speak what is not the truth, but you do it all the same. Remember, then, that it is =not= a little fault to forget, and that those who do it are not building on the firm foundation of truth.
(Blackboard.)
When we Promise and Forget, we are not True.
_To the Parent or Teacher._--However culpable it may be to break promises to adults (and it is in reality nothing less than untruth), it is infinitely worse to break faith with children. An unredeemed promise is a sure way of shaking a child's confidence in truth and goodness. Let us keep our word with the little ones at whatever cost.
67. The Boy who Remembered.
Little Elsie had a big brother called Jack, of whom she was very fond, and he was fond of Elsie also. Jack was about fifteen years old, and he was learning to be a sailor. When his ship came into port he used to come home for a few days, and then he would tell Elsie all about the places he had seen. One time the voyage had been very long, and Jack told Elsie that when the bread was all finished they had had to eat sea-biscuits instead.
"How funny," said Elsie; "what are sea-biscuits like, Jack?"
"They are very hard and round and thick," replied Jack.
Elsie said she would like to see one, and Jack promised that when he went back to his ship he would send her one.
It was not a great thing to promise, was it? But Elsie felt very important when the postman brought her a little parcel a day or two after Jack had left, and she was very glad when she opened it and found the promised biscuit.
"There is one good thing about Jack," exclaimed Elsie, "he always does what he says." I think Jack would have been pleased to hear Elsie say that; it is one of the nicest things that =could= have been said about him. I hope it is true of all of us.
(Blackboard.)
To Forget is not a Little Thing. Be True, and do what you say.
XXIX. KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.
68. Lulu and the Sparrow.
As Lulu came home from school one afternoon, she noticed three or four boys throwing stones at something--I hardly like to =tell= you what. It was a poor little brown sparrow that had somehow hurt its leg, and could not fly. However, this happened a great many years ago, and perhaps boys are less cruel now.
Lulu could not bear to see the poor bird treated so badly, and she asked the boys to give it to her. At first they laughed, and went on throwing the stones; but she continued to beg for it so earnestly, that at last one of the boys said, "Let her have it". And Lulu was only too glad to pick up the wounded bird and carry it home. She nursed and fed it carefully, and put it in a warm place by the fire; but, in spite of all her care, the sparrow died in a few hours.
Sometimes pain is necessary, as in Story Lesson 29; we should never think of saying the dentist was cruel; rather we should say he was kind, because he saved the monkey from =further= pain. But when we cause pain that is =needless=, as these boys did, it is =cruel=. They were cowardly also. If the bird had been an eagle, with strong claws that could have hurt them in return, would they have stoned it? No; they chose a poor little sparrow that could not defend itself, and this was =cowardly=.
Then it was =unfair=. You do not like to be punished or found fault with if you have done nothing wrong; you feel it is not fair; neither is it fair to hurt a dumb animal that has done nothing wrong.
69. Why we should be Kind to Animals.
Just think how many things animals do for us. Where did the wool come from that makes your nice, warm clothes? (Let children answer.) How do we get the coals to our houses--the coals that make the bright, hot fires? (Ans.) What could we do without the brave, strong horses? I heard the other day of a man who did not give his horse enough to eat. What kind of man was he? (Ans.) I would rather be like the Arab, who loves his horse so much that he brings it into his tent, and shares his food and bed with it. Where do we get our milk, butter and cheese? (Ans.) Then think of all the stories of animals in this book, who have done kind, clever things (and all these stories are true). If boys and girls would =think=, I am quite sure they would never be unkind to animals.
70. The Butterfly.
One day a boy was chasing a butterfly, cap in hand, and just as he had caught it, a bee stung him. He was so angry that he threw the butterfly down and trampled on it. Was not that cruel? The butterfly had done him no harm, and the greatest skill in the world could not paint anything so delicate and beautiful as a butterfly's wing; and yet he destroyed that beauty. Sometimes children will hunt spiders out of the crevices in the wall and torture them, and others will torment the little fly, or steal the bird's pretty eggs that the mother sits on with such care. All this is cruel and unkind. Remember it is =not noble= to hurt. The truest gentleman is he who is full of kindness and gentleness and will not hurt anything.
71. The Kind-hearted Dog.
Have you ever seen children riding donkeys at the seaside? and have you noticed how the boys beat the poor things sometimes to make them go faster? I do not think a =kind= boy or girl would like to have a donkey beaten. I hope =you= would not.
There was once a little dog who could not bear to see any creature beaten. If any one were ill-treating a dog he would rush up and bark quite angrily, and when he was driving in the dog-cart with his master, he always used to hold the sleeve of his master's coat every time he touched the horse with the whip, as if he would have said, "Do not beat him, please". Now, if a =dog= knows that it is not kind to hurt dumb creatures, we are sure boys and girls know.
(Blackboard.)
To Hurt Animals is Cruel, for the pain is needless. It is Unfair, for they do not deserve it. It is Cowardly, for often they cannot hurt you in return.
XXX. BAD TEMPER.
72. How Paul was Cured.
Paul was a little boy who was very fond of having his own way, and when he could not get it he used to throw himself into the most dreadful tempers. He would take his pocket-handkerchief and tear it all to pieces in his rage, not to mention lying on the floor and kicking with his heels. One day his governess said to him, "Paul, I will tell you a true story". Paul sat down ready to listen, for he loved stories, so the governess began:--
"There was once a little boy, bright, honest and truthful, always ready to run messages for his mother, or to help a schoolmate with his lessons, he was so good-natured. But Henry (for that was his name) had one great fault--he would get into violent passions when any one vexed him, and as he grew older his passion became stronger, and had the mastery of him more and more. He was a sailor, and as time went on he had a ship of his own, and was captain of it. Henry could manage the ship well; he knew just how to turn the wheel to make her go East or West, and he knew also how to trim the sails to make the ship move swiftly along. If he could have controlled his temper as he did his ship, all might have been well. But he used to be very angry with the sailors when they did not please him, and one day when the cabin-boy had done something that vexed him, the captain in a fit of passion beat the poor boy so cruelly that he died. When the ship came home the captain was taken to prison, and in the end he lost =his= life for having taken the boy's life."
The governess paused, and Paul gazed up into her face with wide-open, anxious eyes. "Is =that= what happens to boys who get into a passion?" he asked.
"It happened to the captain," said she.
"Then I will never give way to passion again if it has such a dreadful ending," said Paul, and the governess told me that he kept his word.
(Blackboard.)
If Bad Temper gets the Mastery, it leads to sad Results.
73. The Young Horse.
Edgar was riding in the train with his mother one day. He sat next the window, as children like to do, so that he could see all that was going on. How the train speeds along! now passing through a tunnel, then out again into the sunshine; next it goes over a long row of arches built across a valley, and called a viaduct. "How high up we seem to be," said Edgar; "see, mother, the river is down there ever so far below!" Now they are passing through fields again, and there, looking over the hedge, is a beautiful young horse. But as the train whirls by, the horse runs off and scampers round and round the field. Edgar watched him as long as he could see, and then he said: "What a lovely horse, mother! how I should like to ride him!"
"The horse is of no use for riding yet, Edgar," said his mother.
"Why?" asked Edgar.
"Because he has not yet learnt to obey a rider," replied she; "the horse has to wear bit and bridle before he can be of use, and to learn by them to be controlled. A horse that could not be managed would run away with you, just as poor Henry's temper ran away with him (Story Lesson 72)."
Bad tempers and bad habits are like wild horses: they take us where they will, and get us into sad trouble if we do not bridle them, so we must take care =not= to let the temper be master, but bridle it just as the horse-trainer bridles the horse.
"I should think the horse does not like the bit and bridle at first," said Edgar.
"Very likely not," replied his mother; "but he would not be the useful, patient animal that he is if he did not submit."
(Blackboard.)
Horse has to be Held in by Bit and Bridle. We Must Bridle Temper and Bad Habit.
XXXI. SELFISHNESS.
74. The Child on the Coach.
It was summer, and we were riding on the top of the coach through one of the loveliest parts of Scotland. The coach had five seats with four persons on each, so you may easily find out how many people there were. On the next seat to ours sat a lady with a little spoilt boy, about four years of age, who was very hard to please, and very discontented and unhappy. You will not be much surprised to hear that presently he began to cry, for spoilt children often do that, but I do not think you could ever guess the =reason=. His mother was speaking to a lady on the seat behind, and when the child was asked, "What is the matter?" he said, "Mamma is not attending to me when I speak to her," and =that= was why he cried. He wanted his mother to attend to =him=, to speak to him all the time, and that was selfish. He was only a very little child, but he thought too much of that ugly word--=self=, and that was why he was so discontented and unhappy.
I knew another little child who was always wanting some one to play with her; she never tried to amuse herself, but was continually teasing her mother to join in her games. It is better to be like little Elsie (Story Lesson 21) who when only a year old thought of the comfort of others.
75. Edna and the Cherries.