The Little Gleaner. LET HIM ALONE. WILLIAM and Thomas Smith were sons of a farmer, and were brought up to be useful; at the same time their education was not neglected. They were sent to a neighbouring school together, and both made very satisfactory progress in their studies. The time of their five weeks' Midsummer holidays was always looked forward to with great pleasure, especially as this was the time when the hay was usually about. They loved to go into the old brook close in the bright sunshine, where was an old high hedge all full of wild roses. Then there were the men and boys all busy tossing the hay about, in which employment they would join with great glee. But their father knew very well that a change of employment suits the young, and so on the morning that the following circumstance took place William and Thomas were sent to fetch a bottle of beer for the men. On returning, they agreed to tie the bottle to a stick and carry it between them. They had only just left the house and turned round the corner by the palings of their father's garden, when a rough boy, who lived in a cottage near, shouted out, There goes Old 66 (I will not defile the Gleaner by a nickname.) Thomas's face was directly as red as scarlet, and upon turning round he saw Jack Simpkins running with all his might towards his own door. "I'll pay him back for this-that I will," said Thomas. "Just set down the bottle." I "Let him alone-let him alone," said William. This was uttered in a tone that produced quite a change in Thomas's feelings; his fists, clenched with angry resentment, began to relax, and on the two boys went together. 66 Really, Tom," said William," your soft way of speaking, just as that fellow had so insulted me, was quite too much for me." Thomas said, "I am glad of it. I could see in a moment what a passion you were in. Now I can give you more reasons than one why such a boy as that should be let alone, and I know how our master would talk to us if he were here. Supposing I act him for once. This is how he would talk. He would say, 'William, that boy is to be pitied as well as blamed. You may see by his running to his own house, just as he was likely to be pursued for doing wrong, that he has a mother that does not rebuke his faults, but would foolishly take his part whether he were wrong or right; whereas you know that you have parents who would never indulge you or screen you in a wrong thing. Your parents would have taken any trouble to find out where the wrong lay in such a case.' And if it had lain in us, most likely we should have been shut upstairs to reflect on our wrong, or in some other way corrected. Our father is one who chastens his son while there is hope.' Poor Jack is so ignorant to what we are, therefore I think it would best show we have been better taught than he, to let him alone. Besides, to correct one wrong, we should have committed another. Father told us to make haste. If we had stopped, would this have been according to the command, 'Children, obey your parents?' Besides, if we had left the bottle in the road, just at this corner, some horse might have come round and trodden on it. Again, such saucy boys as Jack Simpkins are soon tired of showing off their impudence if they are let alone." We wish all our young readers would profit by this short sentence, "Let him alone." Does a boy you know swear, let him alone, have no company with him. Do any of your companions lie, leave their company, "evil communications corrupt good manners." Do foolish boys seek to teaze you, let them alone. Aye, let alone everybody and everything that may injure your moral character. But with regard to good books, useful employments, doing as your parents bid you, telling the truth at all times, paying attention to the preached Word, reading your Bible, &c.—these are things that no reader of the Little Gleaner should let alone. THE SIGNAL-ARROW. Down from the sky and up from the river The stars and their shadows were greeting late, Over the nightingale's farewell sweet And he heard the lambs in the sheep-fold bleat And little tides of a faint perfume, From beds of lily and banks of thorn, Came up, and the mist, like a pearl-white plume, Oh, all unmeet such a day as this, For dooming a brother to lonely pain! |