Sunbury American. [volume] (Sunbury, Pa.) 1848-1879, 1858-04-17
Mstellaneous.
The Stolen Knife

Many years ago, when boy oil seven o.
eight years, there was one thing which long
ed for more than anything else, and which /
imagined would make me happy. 1t was o
jack. k.knife. Then would not be obliged to
borrow fathers every time wished to cut q
string or a stick, but could whitte whenever
| choose, and as much as pleased. Dreams
of kites, bows and arrows, boats, &c, all
manufactured with the aid Of that shining
blade haunted me day and night.
1t was beautiful morning in June that my
father called me, and gave me leave, If wish
ed, to go with him to the store. l was de-
lighted, and taking his hand, we started
The birds sahg sweetly on every bush, and
everything looked so gay and beautiful, that
my heart fairly leaped for joy. After our ar
rival at the village, and while my father was
occupied in purchasing some articles in re-
mote part Of the store, my attention was
drawn to man wbo.was asking the price Of
various jack.knives which lay on the counter.
AS this was very interesting subject to mo
| approached intending only to look at them.
l picked up one, opened it examined it, tried
the springs, felt the edge of the blades with
my thumb, and thought could never cease
admring their polished surface. Oh if it
were ouly mine, thought l, how happy l
should bo ! Just at this moment, happening
change bill for his customer, aud no one
was observing me. For fear that might be
tempted to do wrong, ] started to replace the
knife on the counter, but an evil spirit whis.
pered, a" Put it into your pocket quick !"
Without stopping to think Of the crime or its
consequences, huiriedly slipped it into my
pocket, and as did SO, felt q blush of shame
burning on my cheek but the store was
rather dark, and no one noticed it, nor did
the merchant miss the knife.
-, We soon started for home, my father CIV
ing me q parcel to carry. AS We walked
along, my thoughts continually rested on the
knife, and kept my hand in my pocket all
the time, from sort of guilty fear that it
would be seen. This, together with carrying
the bundle in my other hand, made it dificnlt
for me to keep pace with my father. He no.
ticed it, and gave me lecture about walking
with my hands in my pockets.
Ah how different were my thoughts then
from what they were when passing the same
scenes few hours before. The song of the
birds seemed joyous no longer, but sad and
sorrowful, as if chiding me for my wicked act.
| could not look my father in the face for /
had been needless of his precepts, broken one
of Gods commandments, and become Htet.
AS these thoughts passed through my mind,
feelings and tried to think of the good times
would have with my knife. ! could hardly
say anything on my way home, and my father
thinking / was either tired or sick, kindly
took my burden, and spoke soothingiy to me,
his guilty son. No sooner did we reach home
than retreated TO safe place, behind the
house, to try the stolen knife. ! had picked
up stick, and was whiting it, perfecly de-
lighted with the sharp blade, which glded
through the wood almost of itself, when sud |
denly heard the deep, subdued voice of my
father calling, me by name, and on looking
up, saw him at the window directly over my
head, gazing down very sorrowtul! at ME-
The stick dropped from my hand, and with |
the knife clasped in the other, proceeded in
to the house | saw by his looks, that my
father had OWNED ALL l found him sitting |
in his arm chair, looking very pale. walked |
directly to his side, and in low, calm voice, !
he asked me where | got the knife. His |
gentle manner and kind tone went to my |
heart, and burst into tears. AS soon as !
my voice would ellow me, | made full con- |
fession. He did not fog me, as some fathers |
would have done, but reprimanded me in such |
a manner, that while felt truly penitent for |
The deed, | loved him more than ever, and |
promised never, never to do the like again
In my fathers company, then returned to |
the store, and on my knees begged the mer-
chants pardon, and promised never again to |
take what was not my own.
My father is long since dead and never do !
think of my first theft, without blessing the |
of him whose kind teachings and gen.
lie corrections have mad it, thus far in my life,
and .Jorever, my last.-MOOres Rural Ne,c
Yorker.