The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-06-26

turn, anu CCnO anu Tc-cCnO through the
heart. She certainly could not have re-
allied that the impression that she was
making on her boys mind would bc as
lasting as his existence; that mothers
her words, which make her in
flucncc over her child, will follow it al
ways. That they will conc back, per-
haps, in adversely, to strengthen and
comfort with their gcntleness and loving
patience, until it will seem almost that
her very presence is with him. Or they
may come to him in the hour of tcmpta-
ton, to sting with their pain and bitter
ness, and, perhaps turn the balance on
the evil side.
Max picked up his hat, and drawing
it closely down over his lead, started
slowly down the street, feeling angry and
ill-naturcd.
That evening rs the Fennimorc family
were gathering round the supper table,
the eldest daughter entered, locking fresh
and excited. "Wherc has Max been this
aftcrnoon?' she asked, "and what has he
been doing?"
"Why do you ask?' inquired Mrs.
Fcnnimore, startled by her daughters
manner
"As was coming home l saw him and
several other boys in the custody Of Il
policeman, going toward the statiOn.'
"Impossiblc exclaimed Mr.. Fenni-
more. "You must be mistaken. 1t
surely could not have been Max"
"No, father, am not mistaken. l saw
him distinctly, and then hurried home to
let you know"
Her words brought CONSERVATION to the
whole family. Mr.. Fcnnimore took up
his hat, and leaving his supper untastcd,
fastened down the street.
After Max had left home in the after
noon, he had fallen in with some boys of
disrcputable character, who had persuaded
him to join them in Il fishing excursion
down to the mill-pond. After fishing
some time with indifferent success, the
boys began to amuse themselves by throw
ing stones through the windows of the
mill-wllich was not running at the
time-when they were arrested by Il po-
lice officer. Two or three Of the boys had
succeeded in making their escape, before
they reached the station. Max was one
of the number. Mr.. Fcnnimorc could cb-
tain no clue to his whereabouts. Neither
Of his parents, however, felt much alarm
over his absence; presuming him to DC
frightened, they expected he would return
under cover Of darkness
''There has something got to he done
with that boy" said Mrs. Fcnnimore, lat
or in the evening, letting her sewing fall
idly in her lap, as she addressed her hus-
band. " He is getting to be so careless
and stubborn, that can do nothing with
him. He needs stcrncr hand than mine
to manage him.
Mr.. Fcnnimorc moved uncasily; his
thoughts had also been occupied over his
sons welfare. II have thought sometimes
that we were too stern with him, now
he replied. Perhaps if you would he
more patient with him, and take an intc-
rest ID his amuscmcnts, he would he less
troublesome, and more contentcd at
home"
81 have cndcavored to DC patient with
him. But you have no idea what trial
that boy is. It does seem as if there is
no peace to be had IN the house while he
is at home. He is continually in mischief
of some kind, or teasing bis sisters. 1t
was only yesterday that he took Cora's
kitten and after gIuing walnut shucks to
its feet, let it go in the room. Such
mcwlng and gathering l never heard! I
opened the door just in time to see her
dash out OF TIC window. Cora, poor child,
was crying us if her little heart would
break, and Max he was almost beside
himself with deli ght, as if the combined
pleasure of teasing his sister and torment
ing the cat was almost to much to be
borne'
MIR. Fcnnimore did not laugh at the
recital OF the boys mischief, as he had
often done. He was too deeply troubled.
;'Onc thing is certain" he said, dec,d-
edly, "thc boy has got to be kept at home
moro closely. 1t will not do to allow
him to be gone without knowing where
he has been, or what he has been doing;
associating with boys who arc left to
roam the streets in idlcncss, and grow up
in an apprenticeship to vice. He has not
yet sufficient strength of principle to re-
sist tcmptation-fcw boys of his age have.
TO give him good moral training is a
duty which VIC owe not only to him, but
to God and society. We cannot al ways
shield him from temptation; but we can
see that his first impressions arc good and
pure; We can educate his moral pcrcep-
tons, and strengthen his convictions of
right, until he will learn to love virtue
and hate vice. Then, when temptation
docs come, he can resist it. But this We
can never do if we permit him to run in
the streets"
Mrs. Fcnnimorc was impressed by her
husbands words, but she was convinced
against her will. 1t seemed a great
trouble to her to have the constant care
Ut Max, when other boys, many of them
the sons Of respectable parents, were left
to amusc themselves in the streets. Mr..
Fennimorc had referred to such as grow
ing up apprentices to vic. Perhaps sle
did not think of that. How often do we
refuse to see our wrong doings until God
has laid His hand heavily upon us, and
we arc made to sec our faults through
binding tears.
TO Mrs. Fcnnimorc, Max was no
mythical creature, but an actual, ycri-
table reality. A trouble, if she could
have it so; but a trouble which she could
not thrust entirely from her. She might
attempt to leave him in il room alone
with his toys, but he would gravitatc to
her presence again, for be was social
being; his boyish heart ycarned tor the
warmth Of human love, and human SYM
pathy; and he would have it-shc might
he sure of that If he could not find it
in her presence, he would seek it where
unballowcd fires were kept burning by
no friendly bands. She might leave him
to run in the streets, and relieve herself
of the trouble of his presence now, but
he would return to her again, when the
light springing step would be changed
to manhood's tread, when the tender lips
would be bearded, and deep bass ring
IN bis tones. But how would he return?
Bringing with him that which he had
gathered in the byways and hedges
With a song on bis lips, and an unstead-
mess in his manner, that would make