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spoke out the oldest boy, with a sudden air of a conqueror, and at the same time taking the smallest and worst apple for himself.
“Oh, yes, let Annie have the orange," echoed the second boy, nine years old.
“Yes, Annie may have the orange, because she is a lady and her brothers are gentlemen,” said the mother quietly.
There was a merry contest as to who should feed the mother with the largest and most frequent mouthfuls. Then Annie pretended to want apple, and exchanged thin golden strips of orange for bites out of the cheeks of Baldwins.
At noon we had to wait for two hours on a narrow, hot platform. The oldest boy held the youngest child and talked to her, while the tired mother closed her eyes and rested. Now and then he looked over at her and then at the baby; and at last he said confidentially to me, “Is n't it funny to think I was ever so small as this baby! And papa says that then mamma was almost a little girl herself.”
The two other children were toiling up the banks of the railroad, picking daisies, buttercups, and sorrel. Soon the bunches were almost too big for their little hands. “Oh, dear," I thought, "that poor tired woman can never take those great bunches in addition to all her bundles and bags.” I was mistaken.
“Oh, thank you, my darlings. Poor, tired little flowers, how thirsty they look. If they will only keep alive till we get home, we will make them very happy in some water, won't we? And you shall put one bunch by papa's plate and one by mine."
Sweet and happy, the children stood thrilling with compassion for the drooping flowers and with delight in their gift. Then the train came; soon it grew dark and little Annie's head nodded. Then I heard the mother say
to the oldest boy, “Dear, are you too tired to let little Annie put her head on your shoulder and take a nap? We shall get her home in much better case to see papa if we can manage to give her a little sleep."
Soon came the city, the final station with its bustle and noise. I lingered to watch my happy family. In the hurry of picking up the parcels the poor daisies and buttercups were forgotten. I wondered if the mother had not intended this, but, a few minutes after, I passed the group, just outside the station, and heard the mother say, “Oh, my darlings, I have forgotten your pretty bouquets. I am so sorry; I wonder if I could find them. Will you stand still here if I go?"
"Oh, mamma, don't go. We will get you some more," cried all the children.
“Here are your flowers, madam,” said I. “I took them as mementos of you and your sweet children.”
She blushed and thanked me sweetly, saying, “I was very sorry about them. And I think they will revive in water. They cannot be quite dead.”
“They will never die,” said I with an emphasis that went from my heart to hers, and we shook hands and smiled as we parted.
For the Teacher:
Who is the honest man?
Whom neither force nor fawning can
Whose honesty is not
Who rides his sure and even trot,
Suggestions for morning talks In the widest sense, honesty is the same as truthfulness.
In a narrower sense, honesty is “that sense of right which makes it impossible to take or to use that which
does not rightly belong to us.” Read “Barbara S- " by Charles Lamb, R.L.S. No.
79 (Houghton Mifflin Co.), and “The Honest Farmer," from Ethics for Children, by Ella Lyman Cabot (Houghton Mifflin Co.). Let the class recall illustrations of Lincoln's honesty. In material things: the story of the pound of tea, of the wrong change, of the damaged Life of Washington, of the post-office money. In intellectual matters: giving up cases in court when convinced that his client was guilty, asking Douglas “the question” that lost the senator
ship. To be honest you must: do all your home tasks thor
oughly; prepare your lessons faithfully without copying or cribbing from another's exercise; play fairly, without cheating or taking unfair advantage in games or sports (here explain the “true sporting spirit”); show respect for property not your own; (a) by treating borrowed articles as carefully as if they were your own (city textbooks, desks, chairs; Public Library books); (b) by returning borrowed articles
promptly. What is the right course of procedure upon finding a
lost article — on the school premises, in the street, on
an electric car? If you have injured property, own up frankly to the broken window, the broken fence, the trampled flower-bed. To run away is cowardly; to face the owner and offer what amend you can is manly and honest. So small a sum as a nickel may test a person's honesty. He who tries to escape paying the carfare and so get something for nothing, proves himself dishonest.
MR. LEE'S PLUMBER 1
GERALD STANLEY LEE
If everybody in the world could know my plumber or pay a bill to him, the world would soon begin, slowly but surely, to be a different place.
The first time I saw B - I had asked him to arrange with regard to putting new water-pipes from the street to my house. The old ones had been put in years before, and the pressure of water in the house, apparently from rust in the pipes, had become very weak. After a minute's conversation I at once engaged B- to put in the new and larger pipes, and he agreed to dig open the trench (about two hundred feet long and three feet deep) and put the pipes in the next day for thirty-five dollars. The next morning he appeared as promised, but instead of going to work he came into my study, stood there a moment before my eyes, and quietly but firmly threw himself out of his job.
There was no use in spending thirty-five dollars, he said. He had gone to the City Water Works Office, and told them to look into the matter and see if the connection they had put in at the junction of my pipe with the 1 Brom “Advertising Goodness," in Everybody's Magazine. The Ridgeway Co.
main in the street did not need attention. They had found that a new connection was necessary. They would see that a new one was put in at once — they were obliged to do it for nothing, he said; and then, slipping (figuratively speaking) thirty-five dollars into my pocket, he bowed gravely and was gone.
Now B- knew absolutely and conclusively (as any one would with a look) that I was not the sort of person who would ever have heard of that blessed little joint out in the street, or who ever would hear of it — or who would know what to do with it if he did.
Sometimes I sit and think of B- in church, or at least I used to, especially when his bill had just come in. It was always a pleasure to think of paying one of B- 's bills — even if it was sometimes a postponed one. You always know, with B- that he had made that bill out to you as if he had been making out a bill to himself.
Not such a bad thing to think about during a sermon.
NOVEMBER: COURAGE TO OVER
For the Teacher:
Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong
would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are bafiled to fight better,
Sleep to wake.