Imatges de pÓgina

and water to him in the study, and to tell him that his papa expected the lesson to be ready by the time breakfast and family prayers were over. John deli

vered his message, and then said,

"Master Henry, why won't you learn your lesson? Is it so hard that you cannot ?"

"Oh no! John," answered Henry; "I could learn this first lesson, if that were all, because papa has taught me how to pronounce the words; but if I learn this, I shall be made to try to learn the next, and so on through the book; and I am sure I cannot learn all the hard words in this book, and so I won't begin."

"Oh fie! Master Henry," said John; "you would not have been able to learn this first lesson without your papa's help, you say; and with his help you could do it, if you would. Have you no trust in your papa? Don't you think that he who has brought you so far could help you on farther in your learning?"

"I don't want anybody's help," said Henry, sulkily.

John made no answer, but shook his head, and came back into the parlour, to tell Mr. Fairchild that he had delivered his message.

"And what did Henry say?" asked Mr. Fairchild.

John then told Mr. Fairchild all that Henry had said. John did not do it out of ill-will to Henry, but because he thought it proper that his papa should know how naughty he was, that he might correct him properly.

As soon as breakfast and prayers were over, Mr. Fairchild went into the study, and calling Henry to him, asked him to repeat his lesson; but Henry would not even say one word. Mr. Fairchild shut the grammar, and, laying it down, said, "Henry, I know that you could have learned this lesson with

ease yesterday morning before eleven o'clock. Tell me now wherefore you would not?"

"I don't want to learn Latin," said Henry.

"But it is my pleasure that you should,” said Mr. Fairchild, "and I expect to be obeyed. Tell me now at once, will you learn this lesson or not?"

Henry made no answer.



Mr. Fairchild got up, and walked up and down the room in great trouble; then turning to Henry, he said, Henry, listen to me: When wicked men obstinately defy and oppose the power of God, he gives them up to their own bad hearts: he suffers them to live, perhaps, and partake of the light of the sun and of the fruits of the earth, but he shows them no marks of his fatherly love and favour; they have no sweet thoughts, no cheerful hours, no delightful hopes. stand in the place of God to you, whilst you are a child; and as long as I do not ask you to do anything wrong, you must obey me: therefore, if you cast aside my authority, and will not obey my commands, I shall not treat you as I do my other children. From this time forward, Henry, I have nothing to do with you I will speak to you no more, neither will your mamma, or sisters, or John, or Betty. Betty will be allowed to give you bread to eat, and water to drink : and I shall not hinder you from going to your own bed to sleep at night; but I will have nothing more to do with you: so go out of my study immediately."

Henry looked surprised and frightened; but he had no time to answer, for Mr. Fairchild walked away with a terrible look, and went out of the house. Henry stood at the study door, to which he had followed his father, for some minutes, not knowing what to do, and wishing he had not been so obstinate. Whilst he was thinking what he should do, Lucy came out of the parlour, and passed to go up stairs. "Lucy, Lucy," said Henry; but, instead of answering him, she ran away as fast as possible. In a few minutes

Emily came out of the garden with the hare's parsley, and was bringing it into the study; but, seeing Henry, she turned back in haste. He caught hold of her frock, and said, "Emily! dear Emily! will you too run away from me?" She pulled her frock out of his hands, and made him no answer, because her father had forbidden her to speak to him; but he saw the tears running down her cheeks, although her curling hair, as she stooped down, almost hid her face.

Henry was grieved to the heart when he saw that Emily was crying for him. He let go her frock; and going to his place in the study, he learnt the lesson; and found it so easy, that in less than half an hour he could say it quite perfectly. He then took it to his mamma, who was sitting in the parlour; she was reading, and did not see him come in. He walked softly up to her, and in a humble voice said, "Mamma, I can say my lesson; please to hear me.'


"No, Henry," she answered, in a grave and sorrowful voice, "you have rebelled against your father, and I can have nothing to say to you till you have obtained his pardon; go away!" Henry was going to speak again, but his mamma got up, and went into a closet where she kept her books and work, shutting the door after her. Henry looked after her till she shut the door; then, throwing his grammar on the table, he ran out into the garden; and, running into an arbour, out of sight of the house, he broke out into a violent burst of tears, crying, "What shall I do? what shall I do? Oh, papa! Oh, mamma! Oh, Lucy! Oh, Emily!" Though he cried so loud, nobody came to comfort him; and though John passed not far distant, he took no notice of his cries.

Henry stayed in this arbour, sobbing and crying, about half an hour; then, going out at a back gate, he went out into the lane, and turned to go up the little round hill, because from the top of that hill he

could see every one who came in and went out of his papa's house. There he sat down on the bench under the trees, with his eyes fixed on his dear home. All about him was quite silent; there was no sound except the buzzing of flies and the distant lowing of cattle. As he sat, he began to think of his behaviour to his papa; and the more he thought of it, the more he became sensible of his ill-behaviour. "And suppose,' ," said he, "my papa should never take me into favour again, and should never let me play with Lucy and Emily any more, or my dear mamma should never love me again!" and then he broke out afresh in crying, and cried a long time. At last his attention was drawn by seeing some one walking among the trees in his papa's garden: it was his papa himself, who had been walking in the coppice, and had now returned. Mr. Fairchild went into the house, and soon returned again with Mrs. Fairchild, and Lucy and Emily, all prepared for walking. Henry watched to see which way they would go; they turned towards the coppice, and he lost sight of them. Henry again began to think, and he tried to consider what he first remembered of himself, and of his papa and mamma and sisters. The first thing he remembered of his mamma, was being fed by her with bread and milk, and afterwards being laid in a little bed by her, and kissed; and the first thing he remembered of his papa was riding upon his foot, in turns with Lucy and Emily; he remembered also his mamma singing him to sleep with a hymn, and his papa reading him a little prayer, all which seemed to him very long ago. "And have I offended this dear papa and mamma!" cried Henry, bursting afresh into tears; "have I offended them by my wicked obstinacy? Oh! I will go and kneel before my papa, and beg him to forgive me. And yet I dare not go! he is so very angry, and I have been so very wicked!"

Whilst Henry thought of these things, he saw his

papa and mamma and sisters going up the hill where the hut stood, and where he had read to them the Story in Lucy's book. The distance made them appear very small. Lucy and Emily did not run gaily before their papa and mamma, as they used to do when he was with them, but walked slowly after them. Henry thought of the many happy times when he had gone out a walking with his papa and mamma and dear sisters; "and perhaps," said he, "I shall never walk with them again! Oh, I have been very wicked!" He sat still, till he saw them go up to the hut and come down again; and when he had lost sight of them again, he got up from the bench to come down the hill, but by some accident he fell, and cut his knee and his lip against some loose stones. got up; and his first thought was, that he would go to his mamma for some nice plaster, which she always used on these occasions; but he immediately recollected that his mamma would do nothing for him now, and he sat down again and cried very pitifully.



Whilst Henry was crying, he saw John coming that way. John passed under the hill, and looked at Henry. Henry called out, "O, John! O, John! I have fallen down and hurt myself." John turned, and stood at the bottom of the hill till Henry came down to him. "I have hurt my knee, John, and my lip.


"And do you not deserve all that has happened to you, you naughty boy?" said John. "Go home, go home, and beg your papa's pardon on your knees: perhaps he may forgive you.'


Henry intended to do as John desired him-he went home; but when he got to the house, he found that Mr. Somers was come, and was with his papa, and he felt ashamed to beg pardon before Mr. Somers; so he went up stairs to his little room, and there sat down at the foot of his bed, crying. Several times he heard somebody running up stairs, and hoped

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