The central Presbyterian. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1856-1908, 1857-12-19
"Too Pleasant to Work. "

''Do you see that fellow, vagabond as he
is?" eyes" "Do you want to know what
made him sol" "Yes-what2"
"He and ! used to go to school together
when we were boys" said a gentleman
"and he W., a good scholar when he did
go. But aen good day came, it was
always 'too pleasant to study he did not
want to be cooped up in school such wea-
Their, he said; so he would dodge school, go
down to the wharyes, or lounge in the
fields, nobody knows where. AT last, |
thought it would be mighty fine to do as
he did; so | told my mother one morning,
when she babe me split my wood and be
off to school, that 1T was too pleasant to
work. | was sure it was. Nor was this
the first time | had thrown out the same
opinion
"'Too pleasant to work. she cried
That is precisely what pleasant weather is
made for. How fast the grass will grow
to-day. How much the cherries will rpen
to-day. What a store the bees will lay up
in their hives. Do you hear the mill grind
ing the corn? The miller, dare say, can't
keep his hopper full. Do you hear the car
penter's hammer2 That house will be clap
boarded before shutdown. Pleasant weather
is the weather to work, and the pleasanter
the better. The good sun seems to say, 4
give you cheerfulness and courage; go on;
work while it is to-day.
he. bo 4 e ,,,,- 10
and our wood-pile did seem to look more
inviting under June sky than north
east storm; and the axe did swing right roy
ally to the tune of the robin on the cherry
tree. Then my arm felt strong, | suppose,
because it had a purpose in it.
CATER that, Ike had his opinion and l
had mine. AS you may suppose, he left
school shamefully ignorant. A printing Of
fee refused him on that account. He was
apprenticed to a shoemaker. Ike and l
often met on our way down to town, he to
his trade and to mine. where now?' |
asked, when he turned off from straight
course to the shop. oh, It's too pleasant
to work, Charley was the old answer; and
in the middle of the forenoon he was likely
to be seen pitching cents on the Common,
or loafing on the shady side of stable.
"When he was a journeyman, and began
to earn wage.,, he appeared anxious to do
better, and make up for lost time; and his
friends hoped he would do something after
all.
81 met him one day dressed in the Sun
day best, driving by, not on his way to
business.
"'Where now Ikel' asked. 'Eh Char
ley do you suppose am going to peg soles
to-day! Not |; too pleasant for that; and
he was off.
"And now what is he? A finished, hope
less, friendless loafer, eating bread he
never earned, wearing clothes he never paid
for, sleeping no one knows where, a burden
to nobody greater than to himself. never
see boy trying to shirk his duty because
'tis too pleasant to work, but think he
is taking his first step in the crooked lane
of good-for-nothingness, by whose side they
are in many open bars, the worst of which
is the bar-room; much of it is down hill, and
at last it enters into the broad road to eter-
nal ruin.
"'Too pleasant to work?' 1t is too plea
SAINT to be an idle, truant, disobedient, pur-
poseless boy. Just as if the mill stream
should lie basking and stagnant in the
swamp, instead of sweeping through the
foaming over the rocks, and pull
ing at the mill wheel with a rush and a flush
that sets every thing astir.
''No, no; don't let the boys ever think it
is too pleasant to work. if they have work
to do, and hope they have."-ChilFs Paper.