Part 6 (1/2)

”What a pity!” f.a.n.n.y said to herself. ”Mamma will be mortified, if she ever hears about it. Well, I must try again, and see what I can do with the little fellow this time.”

So she called Eddy out into the yard in front of the house, and there, where n.o.body else but him could hear her, she said,

”Eddy, I want to tell you a little story.”

”Well,” said Edward, ”I want to hear a little story.”

”Once there was a little boy,” the sister said, commencing her story, ”that had a sister who was kind to him. His sister took good care of her brother. She tried to do so, at any rate. When this little boy was abroad, playing with his cousins, he was rude. He would not mind his sister. He was a good deal younger than she was, and one would suppose that he ought to have listened to her, when she talked to him. But he did not. He was just as rude as ever; and his sister was afraid that, when his mamma heard of his conduct, she would feel ashamed of her son. What do you think of that boy, Eddy?”

”Sister,” said the little fellow, ”I am a very naughty boy. But I am sorry I behaved so. I will try to do better, if you will forgive me.”

And so, you see, the wild, rattle-headed boy, who was so full of fun, that he could hardly hold in, and who was so wild that f.a.n.n.y thought it was best to check him with a curb bit, something as she would a young colt, was completely tamed by this soft, gentle language. My young friend, don't you think there's great power in such words? I do, and I advise you, when you are dealing with such a ”young colt” as Eddy was, to try the plan that f.a.n.n.y tried last, and see if it don't succeed better than anything else?

Use gentle words, for who can tell The blessings they impart!

How oft they fall as manna fell, On some nigh-fainting heart!

”In lonely wilds by light-winged birds Rare seeds have oft been sown; And hope has sprung from gentle words, Where only grief had grown.”

XIV.

THE OLD GOAT AND HIS PUPIL.

A FABLE.

A spruce young goat tried very hard to make himself appear like a sheep. He endeavored to talk and act like a sheep. Half his time was spent in putting on airs. He went so far as to cut off his beard, so that he might bear a more striking resemblance to the sheep family; and he was once heard to say that he would give anything if he could either get rid of his horns altogether, or have them twisted as the horns were worn by some of the old fathers whom he so much admired. The little simpleton, however, lost more than he gained by his singular manners. Instead of his being more respected and beloved, as he expected to be, he was despised by everybody.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GOAT AND HIS PUPIL.]

One day, after being ridiculed and abused by some of his young neighbors, he went to his schoolmaster with a great budget full of troubles. This schoolmaster was an old goat, with a long beard, and a long head, too, as it would seem from the character he had.

”O dear!” said the little simpleton, ”everybody hates me. I wish I were dead. I'm sure I don't know what it means. The more I try to be good, the less they all like me.”

”My dear fellow,” said Mr. Longbeard, ”I am sorry for you. But I can do nothing to help you. It will always be so, until you do better.”

”Why, I do as well as I can now,” replied the young goat.

”You ape the sheep too much.”

”Well, the farmer thinks more of his sheep than he does of his goats--a great deal more.”

”And what of it?”

”Why, if he likes the sheep best, he will like me best when I act as the sheep do.”

”That's your mistake. He will not like you half as well.”