Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1888-12-08

g0Od chance to teach them some
thing more than science, so he con-
tinu' It in somewhat gravel tone:
"If, then, all the words that you
and | have spoken, all the speeches
we have made, kind or unkind, re-
Specttul or inpertinent, true or false,
cross or good-natured, are still in the
air about us, even though we cannot
hear them, how would we like it If
they all could be heard? Wouldn't
some of us be made to feel a good
deal ashamed? What do you think?
You often sing, Kind words never
die;' but suppose unkind words never
die either?"
Nobody in the class was brave
enough to answer, so Mr.. Maynard
wisely dismissed it, and, soon after,
school broke up for the day.
Fred Newton and Will Monroe
walked home together, las they almost
always did, being great friends; and
they had both been unusually quiet
for time, when Fred suddenly ex-
claimed:
"Say, Will, that was queer thing
Mr.. Maynard told us this afternoon
about never-dying words. l don't
half believe it myself"
at does seem a funny idea, Fred,
and don't quite like it, either" re-
piled Will. "a fellow isalways say
ing things be cughtn't to, and it isn't
pleasant to think of them being up
there in the air still, even if people
can't hear him."
"Why, of COURSE" rejoined Fred,
who, as all his friends knew, and
some of them at the expense of the
feelings, had at very ready tongue,
and sharp one at that. "You can't
always stop to think just what you're
going to say, especially when your
mad, is up about something"
"That'sso, "concurred Will prompt
ly. "When l get mad, l just rip out
the first thing that comes handy; and
it isn't always what I'd like Mr..
Maynard to hear, 1 tell yeu. Pm just
precious glad he can't make out what
is up there in there in the air."
"Well, it's no use crying over
split milk, buy way" returned Fred,
who seemed anxious to drop the sub
iect. "Let's hurry up and pitch into
the football"
And the two boys made haste tc
the ball-feld, where they played Wig
orously until dark.
When Fred Newton went home
that evening he found the parlol
empty, and a fine big fire blazing
cheerily in the crate, before which he
stretched himself at full length upor
the soft rug. He had not been there
very long before such babel ofvoice'
filled the room that at first he was
fairly bewildered; but after a little
it seemed to him he could distinguish
what some of the voices were saying
and not only that, but they all sound
ed strangely like his own. So HI
raised his head, and listened eagerly
to see if he could find out what it al
meant. Presently he heard what 1T
felt perfectly sure was his own voice
answering somebody in the most dis
agreeable of tones, thus: "No, l won
do anything of the kind! Who wa
your servant last year, miss?" AuC
it gave him a very uncomfortable
twinge of conscience to remembe
that he had said those very words t.
his sweet little sister Eide only las
week, when she asked him to carry
small parcel to one of her friends
OF course, to do so he would hav
taken him q great out of his way jus
then, but he need not have givel
her such a cross answer, at all events
Next he heard the words of slams
verse, which brought up in his mine
the poor, harmless, crippled, old col
ored man, who sometimes came beg
cling to his fathers door, and who's
life the boys made miserable by thei
cruel teasing. Somehow or other tn
words did not seem quite so tunn.
as Fred heard them now; and if hi
cheeks did not redden a bit, it wa
only because they were already glow
ing with the heat of the fire.
Then this sentence, muttered in
} very sulky, wilful tone, fell on hi
ear; "Mean old thing! Won't let
fellow have any fun" and it recalle,
to him what he had said under hi
breath when his father had firml,
forbidden him to be out at night wit
} Frank Rudolph, Ed Jones, and tn
other boys whose fathers were not 8