The comet. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1877-1882, 1880-11-13
LESSON LXXXIN

JAMES AND THE IlATCIET.
Once there was boy named Jane
Garfield who lived under the roof O
his uncle Sam. Never perhaps did a
parent or guardian take less pains than
did the uncle of James Garfield to fix
in the mind of his nephew an early
love of truth. "Truth, James," said
he, is in some instances quite Il love
ly trait Of youth; but I would ride
fifty miles to see the boy whose heart
is so brave, and whose upper lip so stiff,
that we may depend on every word he
says as being placed " here he thinks
it will do the most good and as tend
ing to cXculpate himself and the
crowd he runs with from all insinua-
tions Of dishonesty that may be
brought against him. How lovely
does such Il child appear in the eyes of
the majority of people! Parents will
praise him before their children, and
wish them to follow his example.
They will often invite him to visit
them, and when he comes will receive
him with joy and treat him with the
greatest favor.
"But, 0 james, how far from this is
the case with the boy who is given to
going square back on himself by
always acknowledging the corn
whenever an accusation is brought
against him, by covering like sneak
and tie ling the plain truth about it.
Such Il boy lacks ingenuity. Good
people avoid him wherever hc goes,
and parents dread to see him in COM
pany with their children.
go, James, rather than see you
come to this, dear as you are TO me,
gladly would assist to nail you up in
your little coffin, and follow you to
your grave.
"Hard indeed it would be to me TO
give up my nephew, whose feet are
always 50 ready to run after me;
whose hands are so prone to dive art
essjy and innocently down into my
,recches pockets for the filthy lucre,
md whose handsome face and eloquent |
,rattle make me 50 happy. But still !
you'd give him up rather than see
i'm voluntarily give himself away
Ike his little cousin, George Washing
on, once did, in the times Of old fogy-
sm, but who now blessed bc the
ame of the Lord is out of the way,
nd who, together with his foolish en-
mpIc, is buried and forgotten"
"Unclc Sam, said James, with tears
a his eyes, edo | ever tell the truth"'
No, james, | thank the influence of
he times, YOU do not, my boy; and |
.joicr in the hope you never will.
Whenever you do anything wrong,
,hich may often be the ease, as you
re yet young in the business, you
lust never he intimidatcd to tell the
hing just as it really happened,
trough fear of bringing reprOach up
a your fair name, but come bravely up
" boy, like little man, and deny it
the best of your ability"
When James was something over six
ears old, and under sixty, he was
iade the owner of little hatchel call
| pubiic obicc, with which he was
Iuch pleased, and went about chop
g everything that came i'm his way.
ne day, when in his Uncle Sans
lrden, he saw some other boys with
Ieir hatchets, hacking on a fine
Dung American cherry tree Of the
Union Pacific" variety, and the sport
as 50 pleasing 10 the heart Of James
lat he paid one of the boys a small .
und sum-a nickle, probably, more ;
less-for the privilege Of joining in
e fun; 50, wheting the edge of his
yn little hatchet with a Credit Mo-
licr whet-stone, which all the other
vs. were using, lac waied in and out
the tree soon chopped S29 chips.
Imes was 50 proud Of his chips that /
, put them in his pocket and carried
em straightway to his room.
The next morning, the old gentle
an, finding out what had happened
his favorite tree, came into the