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Page 13
Mrs Murray took her son's hand, and pressing it hard, said, with much
feeling,
"How rejoiced I am that you were able to resist his persuasions to do
wrong. Even if you had not been hurt yourself, the injury received by Archy
would have discovered to us that you were with him, and then how unhappy
your father and I would have been I cannot tell. And you would have been
unhappy, too. Ah! my son, there is only one true course for all of us, and
that is, to do right. Every deviation from this path brings trouble. An act
of a moment may make us wretched for days, weeks, months, or perhaps years.
It will be a long, long time before Archy is free from pain of body or
mind--it may be that he will never recover. Think how miserable his parents
must feel; and all because of this single act of disobedience."
We cannot say how often Charles said to himself, that evening and the next
day, when he thought of Archy, "Oh, how glad I am that I did not go with
him!"
When Saturday came, the father and mother of Charles Murray gave him
permission to go into the woods for chestnuts. Two or three other boys, who
were his school companions, likewise received liberty to go; and they
joined Charles, and altogether made a pleasant party. It did not rain, nor
had the hogs eaten up all the nuts, for the lads found plenty under the
tall old trees, and in a few hours filled their bags and baskets. Charles
said, when he came home, that he had never enjoyed himself better, and was
so glad that he had not been tempted to go with Archy Benton.
It was a lesson he never afterward forgot. If he was tempted to do what he
knew was wrong, he thought of Archy's day in the woods, and the tempter
instantly left him. The boy who had been so badly hurt, did not die, as the
doctor feared; but he suffered great pain, and was ill for a long time.
EVENING PRAYER.
Heavenly Father! Through the day,
Have we wandered from thy way?
Have our thoughts to error turned?
Has within us evil burned?
Heavenly Father! Oh, remove
Evil thoughts and evil love!
Give us truth our minds to fill;
Give us strength to do thy will.
Often we are led astray
From the true and righteous way;
But, we humbly pray to thee,
From the tempter keep us free.
Heavenly Father! While we sleep,
Angel watchers round us keep.
When the morning breaks, may we,
Better, wiser children be.
STRETCHING THE TRUTH.
It is a very bad habit, this stretching the truth, as one does a piece of
India rubber; and the worst of it is, that when any body forms the habit,
there is no telling how much it will grow upon him.
There is Jack Weaver, for instance. He is a sailor all over, to be sure--an
"old salt," as he would call himself. But that does not confer upon him any
license to spin such yarns as he does, to his young shipmates on the
forward deck. He has cruised half a dozen years after whales, in the
Pacific ocean, and, of course, has seen some sights that are worth speaking
of. But that is no reason why he should fill the head of that young fellow
sitting on a coil of rope with a hundred cock-and-bull stories, that have
scarcely a word of truth in them, from beginning to end. Why, he don't
pretend to tell stories without stretching the truth.
I know some boys, too, who seem to find it very difficult to relate any
incident as it took place. They are so much in the habit of stretching the
truth, in fact, that those who are acquainted with them seldom believe more
than half of one of their stories. These boys, however, have not the
slightest intention, when they are pulling out a foot into a yard, of doing
any thing wrong. Very possibly they think they are telling a pretty
straight story. Habits are strong, you know--especially bad habits. Just
look at Selden Mason, one of the best-natured boys I ever saw, and who has
not got an enemy among all his school-mates; it is wonderful what a
truth-stretcher he has got to be. Every boy shakes his head, when he hears
a great story, and says it sounds like one of Selden's yarns. And yet be is
so particular and minute in relating any thing, sometimes, that one who did
not know him would not suspect him of treating the truth so badly. His
apparent sincerity reminds me of an anecdote related of another boy, who
had this habit worse than Selden has, I should think. The boy remarked that
his father once killed ninety-nine crows at a single shot! He was asked why
he did not say a hundred, and have done with it. The fellow was indignant.
"Do you think I would tell a lie for one crow?" said he!
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