Year: 1869




man in Boston, is true in every particu-
lar, and ought to leave an indelible i'm
preston, upon the mind of every one
who reads it, be they parents or not.


A few weeks before he wrote, he had
buried his eldest son, fine, manly little
fellow of some eight years of age, who
had never, he said, known days illness
until that which finally removed him
hence, to be here no more His death
occurred under circumstances which were
peculiarly painful to his parents.


A younger brother, delicate, sickly
child from his birth, the next in age to
him, had been down for nearly fort
night with an epidemic fever. In con-
sequence Of the nature of the disease,
every precaution had been adopted that
prudence suggested to guard the other
members of the family against it. But
of this one, the fathers eldest, he said he
had little to fear, SO rugged was he, and
so generally hearty. Still, however, he
kept vigilant eye upon him, and espec-
tally forbade his going into the pools and
docks near his school, which it was his
custom sometimes to visit; for he was but
a boy, and boys will be boys, and we
ought more frequently to think that it is
their nature to be.


One evening this unhappy father
came home wearied with long days
hard labor, and vexed at some disap-
pointments, which had soured his natur-
ally kind dispotion, and rendered him
peculiarly susceptible to the smallest
annoyance. While he was sitting by
the fire in this unhappy mood of mind,
his wife entered the apartment and said:


"Henry has just come in and he is
perfect fright! He is covered from head
to foot with dock mud, and is wet as a
drowned rat"


"Where is he asked the father
sternly.


+" He is shivering over the kitchen
fire. He was afraid to come up here
when the girl told him you had come"


"Tell Jane to tell him to come here
this instant" was the brief reply to this
information.


Presently the poor boy entered, half
perished with alright and cold. His
father glanced at his sad plight, reproach-
ed him bitterly with his disobedience,
spoke of the punishment which awaited
him in the morning as the penalty of his
offence, and in harsh voice concluded
with: Now, sir, go to your bed"


"But father" said the little fellow, /
want to tell you


:, Not word sir, go to bed !"


"I only wanted to say, father, that


With peremptory stamp, an impera-
tive wave of his hand toward the door,
and frown upon his brow, did that ia
ther, without other speech, again close
the door against explanation or expostu-
| lation.


When the boy had gone supperless
and sad to his bed, the father sat restless
and uneasy while supper was being pre-
pared, and at the tea table ate but little.
His wife saw the real cause of his emo
ton and remarked


81 think, my dear, you ought at least
to have heard what Henry had to say.
My heart ached for him when he turned
away with his eyes full of tears. Henry
is a good boy after all, if he does some
times do wrong. He is kind-hearted,
affectionate boy. He always was"
And therewithal the water stood in the
eyes Of that tender mother, even as it
stood in the eyes of Mercy, in the house
of the Interpreter, as recorded by Bun
yam.


After tea the evening paper was taken
up: but there was no news for that faith
er that evening. He sat for some time
in an evidently painful reverie, and then
arose and repaired to his bedchamber.
he passed the bedroom where his little
boy slept, he thought he would look in
upon him before retiring to rest. He
went to his low cot and bent over him.
A big tear had stolen down the boys
cheek, and rested upon it but he was
sleeping calmly and sweetly. The faith
er deeply regretted his harshness, as he
gazed upon his son; he felt also the
sense of duty; yet in the night, talking
over the matter with the lads mother,
he resolved and promised, instead of pun
ishing as he had threatened, to make
amends to the boys aggrieved spirit in
the morning, for the manner in which he
had repelled all explanation of his of
fense.