St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1882-04-22
The FOrgetful Boy.

Harry Ripley sat by the kitchen Win
dow, with an open book in his hand,
but he was not reading. His mother in
the buttery just beyond was busy with
her milk-pans, and his sister Flora was
outdoors tying up rose-bushes and
transplanting violets. Harry's book
was about heroes, and the boy was lost
in dream of the great things he would
have done, had he lived in the days of
the knights, who went to and fro to
assist people in distress, and who al
ways fought on the side of the weak.
"But now" thought Harry, "there is
nothing for brave man to do. The
same humdrum life every day, and no
adventures or wonderful things happen
ing. | am tired of itn' Harry
called father, from the barn, "the COWS
are in the garden. They are trampling
down the turnips and breaking off the
currant bushes. | am afraid you forgot
to shut the gate. Run, my boy, and
drive Whitefoot and Bess to pasture
Harry made haste to obey. He re-
mcmbered now that in his hurry to get
to Lancelot and Galahad he had left the
gate open, and one glance showed him
that the cows had done some mischief.
He felt vexed at them. g [ meant to
have written splendid composition this
afternoon he said to himself. "Now,
it will take whole hour to put this
garden to rights again. What hateful
things cows aren' -.
Harry went down the lane, through
the bars, across the dewy field, and out
to the clover meadow. with g the Great
ures," and then turned round and came
slowly home. All the way he was plan
ming what noble things he would do if
he were only soldier, Or sailor, or
rich banker, ora Kings son. AS he ap-
preached the house he saw that some
thing unusual had taken place. Flora
was standing in the doorway with tears
in her eyes. Mother was very pale, and
where was father? Surely that was not
father lying on the lounge and looking
so white and deathlike. Yet it could be
nobody else. Harry's heart stood still,
My dear boy,'' said his mother
"Where did you put those drops asked
you to bring from the store yesterday?
Father has had bad turn and | could
not find the medicine anywhere" Poor
Harry! He blushed, and fdgeted a mo-
ment before he answered: "Omother,
am SO very sorry. I forgot to go to
the store. The bottle is still in the
pocket of my best coat upstairs"
Well" said his mother, "vour father
is better, but his life might at some time
depend on having that medicine at hand.
You must give the bottle to Flora and
let her go to the apothecary's with it. l
can always trust my Flora. And. Har-
~, cannot always trust you. Do you
know what made father i'll to-day?''
His hearth said Harry.
Eyes, dear, his poor heart can en-
dure so little over-exertion, and you for
got to split the wood or bring down the |
hay last night; SO while you were gone
with the COWS your father did those
things HIMSELF sit was all that
book" Harry began. "Not the book,
but the boy, Harry" said the gentle
mother. sit is right to read about he
roes, and to wish to be like them, but
the real heroes, after all, are those who
attend to the little duties faithfully just
as they come along. God blesses the
boys who do not forget the business He
has given them to do.'' I am glad to
tell you that Harry resolved, with Gods
help, to be not dreamer, but work
er, and God assisted him in his efforts
to conquer his besetting sin. His moth
er to-day says she depends good deal
on Harry. Christian IntelHgencer.