MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 u Oh, Aunt Jane t what ! ride on horseback 
 with a girl, over to Pike's farm ! I 
 
MORAL COURAGE. 8 
 
 wouldn't do it for five pounds ! the boys 
 would laugh at me for a month/' and the 
 face of Robert Stanton flushed avay *tt 
 the thought of his companions' ridicule. 
 
 " Well, Robert, quite likely they 
 would," said Aunt Jane, in her quiet, 
 earnest way ; " but Mary Pratt is a poor 
 little girl, younger by four years than 
 you, and she's been sick for three weeks 
 with the scarlet fever, and shut up in that 
 little dark bed-room from the light and 
 beauty of the summer ; and her mother 
 can't afford to keep a horse, and so I 
 thought, as you were going to ride down 
 to Pike's farm, it would do the delicate 
 little girl good to carry her over to her 
 grandma's, who lives only a half-a-mile 
 beyond. But I leave you to decide which 
 would be more manly, to do a good act to 
 a sickly little child, or to deny her the 
 pleasure and benefit of a ride, because 
 you fear the laughter of your school- 
 mates." 
 
 Here Aunt Jane returned to her sewing, 
 and there fell a long silence betwixt her 
 um4 her nephew, Robert Stanton ; but 
 
4 MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 the lady knew what thoughts were at 
 work in the boy's soul. 
 
 Robert Stanton was not quite thirteen ; 
 he was a bright, eager outspoken boy, a 
 great favourite with his schoolmates, and 
 indeed with everybody ; but brave and 
 fearless as he seemed, he was very sensi- 
 tive to ridicule, and had a dread of being 
 laughed at by the beys, and this feeling 
 sometimes made Robert Stanton that piti- 
 ful thing — a moral coward ! 
 
 But there were springs of warm, 
 generous feeling in the boy's soul, and his 
 aunt had reached one of these when she 
 told him the story of the sick little girl, 
 Mary Pratt; so there went on a sharp 
 conflict between his cowardice and his 
 kind- heartedness ; but at last his brow 
 suddenly brightened, he sprang up, and 
 went out into the garden, and his aunt 
 bent with dim eyes over her sewing, and 
 thanked Gad. 
 
 A young sunburnt child, she was 
 pale, came shyly into the sitting-room, but 
 her eyes sparkled joyfully as she went up 
 
MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 to Robert's aunt, and said, in her glad, 
 lisping voice : 
 
 " Robert came over to our house this 
 morning, and said I was to go on horse- 
 
 / 
 
 ft 
 
 l- ,r%r:r it 
 
 21 1 ei to 
 
 
 back to grandma's if I'd be here by two 
 o'clock ;" and she brushed the strings of 
 her straw bonnet, and smoothed the "folds 
 of the snowy white apron, in which her 
 mother had dressed her for the occasion. 
 
6 MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 " That will be very nice, indeed, won't 
 it, dear ?" 
 
 This was all Mrs. Ingham said, for just 
 then her nephew entered the room, and 
 she knew that Robert would not wish any 
 notice taken of his generosity. 
 
 But she watched from her window, 
 when the boy lifted the little girl, and set 
 her carefully on the gray horse, and then 
 sprang on behind her. 
 
 As the animal started, the child gave a 
 shriek ; " Oh, I'm afraid ?" she said ; " it 
 makes me so dizzy ;'' and the little pale 
 face was turned appealingly to the boy. 
 
 His heart warmed towards her, " Oh, 
 don't be afraid now ; 1 won't hurt you. 
 Lean right against me, and take tight 
 hold of my arm." 
 
 And she seized his arm in her small 
 hands, and soon grew fearless. 
 
 Robert was greatly amused. " You 
 like to ride, don't you?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I do, and I don't feel a bit 
 afraid now — I like you, too ;" and she 
 flashed up her bright smile in his face. 
 
 " Do you? what makes you like me?" 
 
MORAL COURAGE. 7 
 
 "Oh, because you're so good. I told 
 mamma I knew you was, when you said 
 you'd take me to ride this afternoon." 
 
 So they rode through the green woods, 
 chatting together for more than two miles, 
 and at last Robert heard voices in the 
 distance, and he braced himself up proudly, 
 for he knew that the ordeal had come. 
 
 What a shout that was, echoing away 
 off among the hills, from the throats of 
 the half-dozen boys on the bank where the 
 waters of the little river gathered them- 
 selves up into a creek. 
 
 " Oh, Robert, before you'd catch me 
 there!' exclaimed Harry Weston as, amid 
 their shouts and laughter the riders paused 
 in the midst of the boys. 
 
 " Now, boys, just hear me a minute ; 
 this little girl's been sick with the scarlet 
 fever ever so long, and she wanted to 
 come over to her grandma's, and there 
 wasn't anybody else to bring her, and so 
 I did, and so I would again, if all the boys 
 in the world stood here to make fun of me, 
 and so would they too, unless they are all 
 cowards/' 
 
8 MORAL COURAGE. 
 
 He said these words out bold and fear- 
 less, and then rode on, and somehow the 
 boys did not raise another shout; but all 
 in their hearts respected Robert Stanton for 
 his courage. 
 
 o 
 
 In a little while he returned to his 
 companions. They had fine sport that 
 afternoon, and it was sometime after sun- 
 set when Robert and Mary drew up before 
 the front gate. 
 
 " Oh, I've had such a nice time," said 
 the little girl, as the lady went out and 
 lifted her from the horse. " And Robert's 
 promised to take me over to the mill next 
 week." " Has he? Well, Robert, I think 
 you must have enjoyed it too." 
 
 " I have, aunty, indeed, I have." 
 
 Robert Stanton became, in after years, 
 a brave and honourable man, bold and 
 fearless in the right, and he always 
 declared that that horseback ride over to 
 Pike's farm was the dawn of a new life of 
 moral courage in his soul.