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TAL PiS TO BOYS,
E L E A N OR A. HUNTER.
Jº
A M E R ICAN TRACT so CTETy,
150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK.

COPYRIGHT, 1890,
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
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22 - 7?
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Trifles ----------------------------------------------------- 7
What to Be------------------------------------------------- 8
A Talk to Business Boys------------------------------------ II
A Talk to Poor Boys---------------------------------------- 14
A Talk to Rich Boys---------------------------------------- I6
A Talk to Schoolboys--------------------------------------- I9
On Telling the Truth --------------------------------------- 23
On Spending and Saving ----------------------------------- 27
On Plain English------------------------------------------- 3 I
On Weak Points ------------------------------------------- 34
The Soul of Honor ----------------------------------------- 37
What to Read and How to do it----------------------------- 4O
What to Read and How to Read ---------------------------- 43
On Self-Control -------------------------------------------- 47
Which Was the Braver ? ------------------------------------ 5.I
A Danger Signal -------------------------------- - - - - - - - - - - - 56
Kate's Brother Jack ----- ------------ ----------------------- 63


4. CONTENTS.
“Mother's own Boy "--------------------------------------- 65
Out-of-door Behavior --------------------------------------- 69
A Talk to Shy Boys ---------------------------------------- 73
A Talk to Awkward Boys----------------------------------- 79
On Teasing ------------------------------------------------ 85
On Being Pleasant ----------------------------------------- 88
On Laughing----------------------------------------------- 90
Missions for Boys------------------------------------------- 94.
On Being a Gentleman ------------------------------------- 99
Wild Oats ---------------------------------------------— — — — IO3
The Thoughtless Boy--------------------------------------- Ioy
A Dandy--------------------------------------------------- I I I
On “Grit.”------------------------------------------------- 117
What to do about it ---------------------------------------- I 20
On Patriotism---------------------------------------------- I24
On Getting Acquainted with Christ-------------------------- I29
On Being a Christian --------------------------------------- I32

TO THE (30YS WHO WIZI, (RE Aſſ) THIS (BOOK
—e—O
My DEAR Boys: —I think you will discover
by the time you have read this book that the
writer of it likes boys, and you will also per-
ceive as you turn its pages that I have a good
many boy friends. It is through them that
these “Talks" have come to be written out, for
they are the direct result of genuine talks which
I have had at various times either with my
Sunday-school boys or my “other boys.” Some
of them have occurred in the half-hour which
my Sunday-school class always takes for general
chat before the school is opened; some are bits
from the 1esson itself; and others have come
about on Saturday evenings or other odd times,
when some of the “other boys" have dropped
in for a half-hour.
Thus there are in it, as you will see, “Sunday
talks” and “every-day talks,” but after all they
each bear upon the same thing in the end, and
that is—how a boy may train himself day by day
into a nobler life. And I have put these talks
into print in the hope that boys whom I may
never see and talk with face to face, yet of
whom I often think, may find within these
pages something which shall be a help to them
upon the upward way. E. A. H.
TALKS TO BOYS.
TRIFLES.
THEY were only some little snowflakes,
So feathery, soft, and light;
Yet a host of them together
Stopped a train of cars one night;
And the shivering, frightened people
Fought with hunger and cold
Long hours ere they were rescued
From the little snowflakes’ hold.
They were only some little raindrops
Who lived afar in the sky;
But they said, “Let’s drop together
Down into that field so dry.”
So they jumped down, laughing and splashing,
With a music fine and sweet,
And saved with their gracious moisture
The field of withering wheat.
Oh! my boys, come near while I tell you—
Let me speak as clear as I can :
'T is little deeds, for wrong or right,
That will make or mar the man.
Let your thoughts, your words, and your actions
Be honest and kind and true, e
And the crown of a noble manhood
Will surely belong to you.

8 - TALKS TO BOYS.
WHAT TO BE.
IF a boy knows what trade, business, or pro.
fession he wishes to have when he is a man.
it is a very good thing. There is no doubt that
he should follow his bent, and his education
should be such as will help him best to develop
those faculties which he will use in his work.
But many a boy of good abilities, honest and
sincere, does not know what he wants to be. It
is for such boys that this article is written.
I feel sure that there is some particular work
given to every one who is born into this world.
And I think that if a boy will patiently and
seriously study his own nature, in time he can
find out what his work is. It is a good plan, in
the first place, to find out what one cannot do.
Many of the arts, for instance, require a ge-
nius—and that means more than a taste, or even
a talent—for their successful pursuit. And
there are at least two professions which should
not be attempted unless one is sure of an unmis-
takable call towards them. A boy should never
dare attempt to be a physician unless he has not
only the strongest taste for the twin sciences of
surgery and medicine, but also a love for hu-
manity so broad and deep and unselfish that he
cannot be satisfied with anything less than
WHAT TO BE. ©
spending his lifetime in alleviating its miseries.
And before he enters the Christian ministry he
should be equally sure that he can be satisfied
with no other life-work, and that he is willing
to make the same self-consecration for the souls
that a doctor does for the bodies of men.
Regarding what are called “the professions:”
never choose one because of the honor or dis.
tinction which it may bring you. No profession
ever distinguished a man; on the contrary, if a
man does not ennoble and dignify his profession
he disgraces it.
Many pursuits are in these days barred out
because they are not considered suitable for a
gentleman. This is a mistake. All labor is
honorable, and any man is a gentleman who
behaves like one; and I know men to-day who
have failed in 1ife because they were put into a
profession or a business, when if they had been
allowed to 1earn their favorite trade or handi-
craft, they would have been successful and
happy. So if you have a strong taste for any-
thing of that sort, be sure it is a bent of your
nature and not a fancy, then make your choice,
stick to it, and be happy.
I know a gentleman, now living in a New
England college town, where plain living and
high thinking are yet the fashion, and he made
Such a choice and became a blacksmith ; and he
1 O TALKS TO BOYS.
is the most wonderful blacksmith I ever heard
of. He has a power of subduing vicious ani-
mals which is phenomenal, and which two hun.
dred years ago would have given him a reputa-
tion for sorcery. He shoes the most untamable
horses entirely unaided; the touch of his hand,
the sound of his voice, and the steady gaze of
his bright dark eyes, in a short time after they
are brought to him, quiet and subdue them
and render them obedient to his will. This
gentleman is a well-educated man, a reader and
a thinker, and he is considered the social equal
of any one in the place; and I did not know
whether to admire him more as he stood before
his anvil, with his leather apron buckled on and
his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, displaying
the magnificent muscles of his arm, while with
his great hammer he smote with mighty blows
the iron he was fashioning, making showers of
sparks fly all about the place, or when, on the
evening of the same day, he came forward to
speak to me at the president's levee with the
same easy and gentle manners with which he
had welcomed me to his shop. And I imagine
that if that man had attempted to be anything
else than a blacksmith he would have disobeyed
a divine call.
And when you have made your choice, re-
member that fitness for your business is not the
A TALK TO BUSINESS BOYS. I ſ
only thing. Long years of steady work may
be necessary before you gain success. Without
industry genius itself is nothing; but patient
continuance in well-doing will surely win its
reward.
A TALK TO BUSINESS BOYS.
THE first year of a boy's business life is a
critical one. He comes, perhaps, from a country
home, certainly from a school-life well hedged
about and protected by careful parents and
teachers. He has lived heretofore under con-
ditions in which it was easier to go right than
wrong, and it is indeed a change when he takes
life into his own hands and plunges into a great
city's business current whose ramifications en-
circle the world, and becomes one little atom
in its vast force. Then it is he gets his first
practical experience of life and gains his first
real knowledge of men and things. Then, too,
he begins to find out what metal he himself is
made of, and to shape his life's course; and as
he gives it an upward or a downward curve, so
it is apt to continue.
A boy's first position in a commercial house
is usually at the foot of the ladder; his duties
are plain, his place is insignificant, and his salary
is small. He is expected to familiarize himself
I 2 º TALKS TO BOYS.
with the business, and as he becomes more in-
telligent in regard to it he is advanced to a
more responsible place. His first duty, then, is
to his work. He must cultivate day by day
habits of fidelity, accuracy, neatness, and des-
patch, and these qualities will tell in his favor as
Surely as the world revolves. Though he may
work unnoticed and uncommended for months,
such conduct always meets its reward.
I Once knew a boy who was a clerk in a
large mercantile house which employed, as en-
try clerks, shipping clerks, buyers, bookkeepers,
and Salesmen, eighty young men, besides a
small army of porters, packers, and truckmen;
and this boy of seventeen felt that amid such a
crowd he was lost to notice, and that any efforts
ine might make would be quite unregarded.
Nevertheless he did his duty; every morning at
eight o'clock he was promptly in his place, and
every power that he possessed was brought to
bear upon his work. After he had been with the
firm a year he had occasion to ask them for the
favor of a week's leave of absence during the
busy season.
“That,” was the response, “is an unusual
request, and one which it is somewhat incon-
venient for us to grant; but to show you
that we appreciate the efforts you have made
since you have been with us, we take pleasure
A TALK TO BUSINESS BOYS. I 3
in giving you the 1eave of absence for which
you ask.”
“I did n’t think,” said the boy, when he came
home that night and related his success, “that
they knew a thing about me, but it seems they
have watched me ever since I have been with
them.”
They had indeed watched him, and had se-
1ected him for advancement; for shortly after he
was promoted to a position of trust with an
appropriate increase of salary.
It must be so, Sooner or 1ater, for there is
always a demand for excellent work. A boy
who means to build up for himself a successful
business will find it a long and difficult task,
even if he brings to bear his best efforts both of
body and of mind; but he who thinks to win
without doing his very best will find himself a
loser in the race.
There is no position in life more honorable
than that of a successful business man, and there
are few more influential. It is the judgment
and advice of business men that guide affairs of
national importance. The most wonderful in-
ventions of the age are but servants to do their
bidding. It is no wonder that they are called
“Railroad Kings” and “Merchant Princes,”
when we see the power they possess. How
necessary, then, that the boys who are growing
I 4 TALKS TO BOYS,
up to take the places of those men who now
direct our commerce and manufactures, should
be noble-hearted, honorable, and intelligent
men, not amassing wealth for its own sake or
for the selfish pleasures which it brings, but to
bestow it in a wise philanthropy for the com-
fort, welfare, and advancement of their fellow-
1I]CI1.
A TALK TO P00R BOYS,
º IF a boy has good health and an intelligent
mind, the best thing that can happen to him
is to have to make his own way in 1ife; for
every struggle increases his strength and every
success gives him fresh courage and confidence,
and whatever he wishes to be he can be. In
this land of cheap books and free schools, if he
desires an education he can get it. If he has
a real thirst for knowledge, he can work his way
through college as many another boy has done
before him, and enter any profession he chooses.
So many of our distinguished men have fought
this fight and have reached their present emi-
nence entirely through their own exertions, that
it seems sometimes as if that was the only path
to fame and honor, and as if all one had to do
was to start at the bottom to end at the top; but
the fact is that all poor boys do not become suc-
A TALK TO POOR BOYS. I 5
cessful men. As Mr. Howells puts it, “I have
known too many men who had all the disadvan-
tage and who never came to anything.” Those
are the men who have neither the industry nor
the pluck to work and fight through long years,
if need be, until the battle is won. The world is
full of discontented and unhappy men, the cow-
ards and deserters in the fight of life, lagging in
the rear, hiding behind every shelter they can
find, and grumbling because they cannot get
somebody to fight and work for them. Envious
of their neighbors who are better off, forgetting
that other men have won their ease and comfort
through their own industry and thrift, they
blame everybody for their misfortunes except
themselves. I do not know of what use such
men are in this world, unless it be as warnings
to the rising generation.
Never say you cannot do a thing because you
have not the chance. If you really wish to do it
and need to do it, the opportunity will come; and
if you are swift to see it and quick to take it,
it is yours.
But perhaps a boy who is reading this may
say, “Ah, but I have more than myself to take
care of. If I had only myself I could manage;
but I have mother and the children, and I am
the only man there is in the family.” That is
the best of all. A boy with such a trust never
16 TALKS TO BOYS.
can nor will desert it; and he is learning daily
such lessons of endurance, industry, and unself-
ishness as will be of priceless value to him dur-
ing his whole life. Courage, my dear brave
fellow, for you are sure to win.
A poor boy learns to “endure hardness like a
good Soldier,” and things which others could not
bear he takes as easily as a trained athlete lifts
a weight which untrained muscles could not stir.
So be thankful if you have been sent to school
to Mistress Poverty, for though she is the stern-
est, yet she is the wisest and most faithful teach-
er, and if you will learn the tasks she sets, you
will surely become a brave and noble man.
A TALK TO RICH BOYS.
THERE is no doubt that to be the son of a
rich father is apt to be a disadvantage to a boy.
He has all the clothes he needs, made of excel-
1ent material, well cut and suitable, his food is
of the best, and the house in which he lives has
every comfort and luxury. He has no anxiety
about his school bills and he has plenty of
money in his pockets. He is sent to the best
of schools in the winter and goes to pleasant
resorts in the summer or takes delightful jour-
neys. His father and mother grant him every
A TALK TO RICH BOYS. 17
indulgence, and when he has finished college,
where he has doubtless been lodged like a
young Sybarite, he is given every help that
money can furnish to establish him in his
chosen business or profession. All this is ex-
tremely hard on a boy. It is hard on him
mentally, morally, and physically, and if he
lives through it and comes out a noble man,
ne is indeed made of excellent metal. He
knows nothing of anxiety or care, and he
knows nothing of physical labor. He has no
need of self-denial, industry, or endurance, and
how can qualities which never are exercised be
developed 2 I have read of a wealthy man who
felt these things so keenly that after having
given his son a 1iberal education, he shoved
him out of the parental nest and made him
shift for himself, and when he died left his for-
tune entirely to charity. I think he would have
done better if he had educated that son as to
the care, use, and value of money, and then left
him the money as a sacred trust to be used both
for himself and for his fellow-men. I feel sure
that money was meant to be a blessing and not
a curse, and that if we estimate it at its right
value and use it as we should, it will prove to
be so.
A rich boy, then, ought to be just as fine a
fellow as a poor boy. Every virtue which a
Talks To Boys. 2
I 8 TAILKS TO BOYS,
poor boy is obliged to cultivate if he makes a
man of himself, a rich boy ought to cultivate
for the same reason. He ought to rise superior
to luxuries and to prove that if need be he
can do without them. He should resist every
temptation to dissipate, and learn to work just
as thoroughly and heartily as a poor boy must.
Try during next vacation, if you are a rich boy,
and see if you have sufficient pluck and knowl-
edge to earn your own living. Insist always
upon doing everything that you can for your-
self. Play hard, work hard, and study hard, so
as to fit yourself for the trust which is coming
to you in your manhood. Remember that it is
not the one who has the best start who wins the
race, but the one who has the best staying
power. You may have every possible advan-
tage and help, but if you do not improve them
they are of no benefit; for after all you are the
One who must make a man of yourself, and if
you do not do it no one else can.
The annals of our country bear many hon-
ored names of men who never knew the sharp
discipline of poverty, and who, being born with
every advantage which wealth and position can
give, realized that these blessings were also
added responsibilities—for from him to whom
much is given much shall be required; and
they nobly fulfilled their trust. They have left
A TALK TO SCHOOLBOYS. I9
their mark upon the literature and art of their
country. They have been in the van of noble
reforms, and their philanthropy has been as
wide as the land which they sought to benefit.
And if a boy who has money will remember
these things and will fit himself for that station .
in life to which it has pleased God to call him,
his wealth will be a blessing to him and to the
community in which he lives.
A TALK TO SCHOOL BOYS.
I SUPPOSE most boys think that the reason
why they are sent to school is to get an educa-
tion, and that if they learn their lessons suffi-
ciently well to pass the examinations and finish
the prescribed course of study and be graduated,
they will have that education and be ready for
the business of life. But the object of the best
schools now-a-days is not simply the book-learn-
ing to be gained, but to give to a boy's spirit,
mind, and body the best moral, mental, and phy-
sical training which he is capable of receiving,
so that when school-days are ended a boy shall
be equipped with a healthy and active body, a
mind with alert perceptions and well-trained
reasoning faculties, and a moral nature whose
will is strong enough to govern both mind and
2O TALKS TO BOYS,
body perfectly. This is a great deal to do, but
it can be done if a boy will help his school to do
it; and the way he can help is by his conduct.
When a boy behaves well he always plays his
fairest and studies his best, so that his mind and
body and spirit are all being trained well to-
gether.
Every boy cannot carry off the first prize in
his school for languages or mathematics, but
every boy can be perfect in conduct if he will.
And for the comfort of those boys who do not
rank first in class I will say that although rank
in class is always worth trying for, and every
boy is bound to do his best, yet it is not always
the most brilliant scholars who make the most
successful men. I was reading not long since
the experience of a gentleman who gained a
part of his education at that historic institu-
tion, the oldest school in America, which is
called the Boston Latin School. Says he:
“I came home from this school at the end of
the first month with a report which showed that
I was ninth in a class of fifteen ; that is about
the average rank which I generally had. I
showed it to my mother because I had to. To
my great surprise and relief she said it was a
very good report. I said I thought she would
be displeased because I was so low in the class.
‘Oh,' said she, “that is no matter, Probably the

A TALK TO SCHOOLBOYS. 2 I
other boys are brighter than you; God made
them so and you cannot help that. But the re-
port says you are among the boys who behave
well. That you can see to, and that is all I care
about.’”
That boy is now one of our wisest philan-
thropists and one of our most brilliant writers
loesides.
Every boy knows that he transacts a good
deal of business during a school-term besides
1earning his lessons and playing his games. He
nas a great many plans and schemes which he
is busy about. Perhaps he takes to taxidermy,
and has various natural history collections of
beast, bird, or fish. Or he plunges into miner-
alogy or botany with enthusiasm. Or he is
Occupied with private experiments in chemis-
try or inventions in mechanics, and all these
things are excellent in their way and are as
much a part of his education as his lessons.
But it is on these points that I would like to
give my boy friends a gentle word of warning.
For one thing, do not spend too much time on
these things. Keep them in their proper place
and they will rarely get you into trouble. Occa-
sionally, however, something may go wrong
through your inexperience or carelessness. It
is surprising what a propensity things have to
explode or to burn up, or at the least to make a
22 TA}_KS TO BOYS.
very bad smell or to leave a dreadful stain,
when they are being managed by a boy. Well,
when you are in your scrape, own up and take
the consequences and never attempt to slide Out
of it. You will have gained a valuable piece of
experience, for I am sure you will never attempt
to do that particular thing again in exactly that
way, besides adding a bit of strength to your
moral character by a temptation successfully
resisted.
School-days are a delightful period of life.
I do n’t say that they are the happiest times
you will ever see, for I don't think that will be
true; but it is true that your happiness and ex-
cellence as men depend greatly upon the use you
make of your time while you are boys, for now
you are building, habit by habit and thought
by thought, the characters which you will have
when you are men. So you should cherish now
every generous aim and noble ambition which
you would like to achieve as men, and scorn
every mean and ignoble act now as cordially as
you expect to do then, and practise every Chris-
tian virtue now as heartily as you mean to do
then ; and if you do these things you will be cer-
tain of a life which will bring happiness to your-
self and a blessing to every one with whom it
comes in contact.
ON TEf_LING THE TRUTH. 23
ON TELLING THE TRUTH,
THEY teach two things at West Point which
I wish were taught with equal thoroughness in
every school in the land. One is to 10ve the
flag of our country, and the other is to speak the
truth. The word of a cadet is accepted always
unquestionably, but if he is detected in a false-
hood he is dismissed from the service; and it
would be well for every school if all were gov-
erned upon this point in a manner at Once as
trusting and as rigid.
Sometimes there comes a crisis in a boy's
school or college life when a falsehood seems
so easy and the truth so hard to tell—nobody
knows how hard save the boy who has to tell
it—that the sympathies of his friends would be
very deep if they knew of the struggle; and if
by writing this article I could help any boy who
is in such a strait, I should be very glad.
Some time since I heard a boy who was in
college giving his brother an account of a recent
college scrape from which he had wisely re-
treated in time.
“You see,” said the narrator, whom we will
call Don for the time of this story, “we had
settled on that night for ‘the rush,’ and Prex
got hold of it in some way; SO he said in chapel

24 TALKS TO BOYS.
that morning that no member of the Sophomore
class should be out that evening after eight
o'clock without being able to give a satisfactory
account of himself. If he was out and was recog-
nized, he would be expelled.”
Now Don was at that time a Sophomore, and
he was and is a 1ad with both a heart and a con-
science, but he is so bubbling over with fun and
brimming with life and vitality that his more
valuable qualities are apt to be somewhat ob-
scured.
“Well,” he went on, “as soon as it got dark
we rigged up so that it would n't be quite so
easy for old Savage" (the college proctor) “to
spot us, and we went out on the campus. A11 the
fellows were there shrieking and howling and
in for a good time, and we were just getting
formed into 11ne when I felt some one touch me
on the shoulder, and there was old Savage. ‘Beg
your pardon, Mr. B–,’ says he as polite as you
please, “but I must request you to go at once to
your room and to stay there. If you do not I
shall be obliged to report your name to the pres-
ident, and you know what the consequences will
|be.’ And he warned all of the other fellows,
too, but some he did n’t call by name. You see
Prex had told him to give us one more chance.
Of course we all scattered, and some of us went
in. I did, but oh, how I did hate to But I
ON TELLING THE TRUTH. 25
knew it would be sure death if I did not, for
Savage had my name listed, and I thought of
mother; so I went up to my room and pegged
away at my Greek all the evening. Some of the
fellows came back later, and they were called
before the Faculty and expelled, but there were
a few that there wasn't any proof positive about,
and some of them lied out of it, and they stayed.
Well,” continued Don, sitting up and looking
very earnest, “it was a falsehood they told, and
no mistake. Every fellow in college knows it
and Prex suspects it, but he can't prove it; and I
look at them as they are going about, and I
think they must feel mighty mean. But the
question is, if I had been in their fix would n't I
have done the same 2 I tell you when expulsion
comes so near as that, it looks like a very serious
lousiness. You think of the folks at home and
all the trouble there will be there, and you don't
have to tell on anybody else, you know. It is
just to keep still about yourself, and it is very
easy to do that and very hard to do the other
thing. I'm glad I did n't have to choose; I'm
glad I went in when old Savage told me to.”
I thought then of another boy, whom I had
known years ago, who had once to make that
very choice, and who at the last moment chose
the right and told the truth, though he then
thought that it ruined his prospects for life. He
26 TALKS TO BOYS.
had with a number of others transgressed the
rules of his college, and he was summoned be-
fore the Faculty to answer the charges against
him. A little deceit would have saved him, and
one of the members of the Faculty, knowing it,
suggested that he might not be reliable; but the
boy turned to the old president, a man whom the
greatest madcap among them loved and honored,
and said, “I have never told you a lie yet, Presi-
dent F , and I do n't mean to begin now.”
“That is quite sufficient,” responded the pres-
ident, who knew the nature with which he was
dealing. “I believe you. Proceed with your story.”
The boy told it, was convicted, and expelled
from the college. How he bore the shame and
disgrace of that time he never could tell, but he
was saved as by fire; and he left behind him
with his college life his old foolish self and
strove with all his might to make himself a
noble man, and he succeeded. And I feel sure
he would not have made the man he is to-day,
had he remained in college through his own de-
ception and graduated at the expense of a lie.
But he won his manhood through a bitter strug
gle, which he need not have fought if he had
bravely resisted that sudden, sharp temptation
which wrecked his college life.
I find that there are two morals to my talk
this time. One is that it is never too late to
ON SPENDING AND SAVING. 27
mend. No matter how far you have gone astray,
dare to turn around and do right at whatever
cost, and you may be sure that it will be better
for you both in this present life and in the life
to come. And the second moral is—Do not do
wrong in the first place. Never turn aside from
the right track, for, after all, that is the nobler
and wiser as well as the happier way.
ON SPENDING AND SAVING.
I ONCE knew two brothers who went through
college on exactly the same allowance. It was
not an extravagant allowance, neither was it
scanty, but “’t was enough, 'twould serve,” if
they were reasonably prudent. It was paid to
each lad quarterly, and they were allowed to
spend it just as they thought best. The elder
lad was always well dressed, had sufficient books,
his board-bill was promptly settled, and he al-
ways had a surplus for amusements and inciden-
tals. The other was apt to look rather shabby,
and he always had hard work to make both ends
meet. For about a week after quarter-day he
lived in affluence; at the end of that time he
would thrust his two fists into his empty pock-
ets and inquire in blank despair, “Where does
the money go to ?”
28 TALKS TO BOYS.
“I've paid my paper bill and laundry bill,”
he remarked on one occasion, “I’ve had a pair
of shoes mended; I've bought three neckties—I
had to have them—and 'pon my word I've only
got one dollar and sixty cents to last until next
quarter-day.”
Ben was a very bright and charming fellow
and a great favorite with his class, and when his
check was cashed and the bills stowed away in
his pocket, his first words were, “Come, fellows,”
and he would crack his first ten-dollar note in a
treat. After that the bills would fly away right
and 1eft, some in perhaps a beautifully bound
book or good engraving, or they would go in any
amount of boyish trinkets, such as Russia 1eath-
er card-cases, silver match-safes, elegant pen-
knives, or the like. His father said nothing, for
he had observed that in this case talking did no
good, and he felt that experience must now be
the teacher; and so it came to pass that Ben was
stranded in the middle of a term, and 1eft, as he
expressed it, “gasping high and dry on the
bank.” He wrote to his father asking if he
might draw a part of his next quarter's allow-
ance in advance, but his father said, “No ; what
your brother Robert found to be sufficient you
Imust make do.”
He went to Rob, and Rob lent him ten dol-
1ars, which helped him for the moment; and
ON SPENDING AND SAVING. 29
then Ben went to his room and for the first
time examined his accounts and faced the sit-
uation. He was in debt, and deeply in debt
for the size of his income. His whole coming
quarter's allowance would not cover his liabili-
ties. He recalled more than one warning of his
father's on the subject of indebtedness, and he
began to realize that he had behaved in a very
dishonorable manner, for he knew that his fa-
ther gave him all the money he could afford.
He sat staring at the opposite wall, where hung
a pretty little etching which was his last extrav-
agance, and wondered what he should do. His
father clearly would not help him, and could not
in justice if he would. And Ben was quite at the
end of his rope. But he had good stuff in him.
When he had been made to stop and think, he
thought to some purpose. All at Once he started
as if he had been stung, and springing up, he
began to walk rapidly up and down the room
with his brows knit. “I’11 do it,” he said, and
crushing on his hat he ran down stairs and out
of doors with an air of great resolution.
The fact was that the proprietor of the steam
laundry which he patronized had asked him a
few days before if he knew of any student who
would like to keep his books for him. The
hours of work were from seven to nine in the
evening, and the compensation was fair; and
3O TALKS TO BOYS.
Ben put his pride in his pocket, applied for this
situation, and got it. Great was the astonish-
ment of his mates at this singular move of his,
but he persevered and earned the money, and
with it he succeeded in paying his debts; and by
the end of the year he could look his father in
the eyes without any shame or trouble, for he
stood fair and square with all the world.
But there are many other things in this world
beside money which can be saved or spent.
Many a lad needs to think of how he spends his
time. -
This same Ben—who I may as well admit is
one of my “best boys,” in spite of his faults—
sometimes remarks that “Punctuality is the
thief of time !” “Look at Rob,” he says; “he is
always there. He was never known to be late at
a class or a lecture or a committee meeting in
his life. But think of the things he misses be-
cause he is always in such a tearing hurry,
while I acquire quantities of information sim-
ply by keeping my eyes open and taking things
easy. Depend upon it, the ‘fetlock' is the place
to take Old Time by, instead of snatching the
hair off his head as some folks do.”
Nevertheless Master Ben is finding out that
if he ever makes a mark in the world he cannot
indulge in a wasteful extravagance of time any
more than he can of money, and I am glad to
ON PLAIN ENGLISH. 3 I
see that he is settling down to his working life
quietly, patiently, and perseveringly.
These things will bear thinking about, and
the boy who spends not only his money, but his
time, prudently is really braver as well as better
than those who do not.
ON PLAIN ENGLISH.
NOT very long since one of my boy friends
dropped in, as he is apt to do in vacation, to
spend an hour or so with me. I have known
him ever since he was a little fellow, but since
he has been away at school I have not seen so
much of him. On the afternoon of which I
speak he began to talk to me about his School
life, and I should have been very glad to listen
if I had been able to understand him ; but two
years of school, while it may have improved his
Latin and Greek, seemed to have quite bereft
him of the power of using plain English. His
father and mother are people of cultivation and
refinement, and during his childhood he had
been used to hearing the English language
spoken with great purity; but his conversation
On this occasion was so corrupted with slang
that I was obliged to interrupt him frequently
to ask him what certain expressions meant, and
32 TALKS TO BOYS.
I noticed that he had some difficulty in telling
me. The only synonyms which occurred to his
mind were other slang words or phrases which
were quite as unintelligible to me as the first.
He seemed rather embarrassed by his difficul-
ties and said he “never could talk, anyhow, un-
less he was with a lot of fellows. He did n’t
know how to talk to other people.”
It seemed rather a pity for a bright young
lad of sixteen to have to confess such a thing,
and what made the case peculiar was that he
was one of the best orators of his school, and he
had just written and delivered a prize oration
which was excellent; but the trouble was that
he had allowed himself to talk in such a slip-
shod manner among his mates for so long that
he was unable to express himself properly in
ordinary conversation.
I was talking with a certain liberal professor
of English literature once on this subject, and
he remarked that “slang ought not to be
frowned down altogether, for the 1anguage is
constantly being enriched by new words and
expressions which were once called slang, but
are now by common consent considered correct
English. The words and phrases which are
worthless will be cast aside, and those which
are valuable will in a few years be incorporated
into the language and be in constant use.”
ON PLAIN ENGLISH. 33
I smiled and said, “Perhaps you are right.”
But when a lad “enriches” his mother tongue
to such an extent that middle-aged people can-
not understand him, when he uses slang without
knowing it and makes slang words and phrases
the chief part of his vocabulary, he makes a
mistake, for he defiles the wells of pure English
from which he might draw to suit his needs, and
which are a rich inheritance to him from the
great storehouse of the past; and while I should
be the last to repress those witty and forcible
expressions which boys have a genius for coin-
ing, and which, as the professor remarked, are
of genuine value, I cannot but think that there
is a great deal of slang which is both vulgar and
meaningless and which it is a great pity for any
boy to make use of.
There is another point to which it is well to
pay attention. Very few of us take the trouble
to pronounce correctly even if we know how.
Just watch yourself a little and see whether
you say wy or why; and do you always Say
and, or do you sometimes say an’, and do you
invariably sound your ing's distinctly, or do
you defraud the endings of their rightful g’s 2
Many people, if they should see the words they
use written as they speak them, would be
shocked indeed, and it is only because we are
more used to hearing incorrect English spoken
Talks To Boys. 3
34 TALKS TO BOYS.
than we are to seeing it written, that we do 1:ot
notice our mistakes. It is only after hearing it
spoken by a master that we realize what a noble
and beautiful tongue Our English is. It is gen-
erally conceded that there is no language which
is at once so copious, so flexible, and SO Suited
for the expression of ideas; and yet there are
many people whose mother tongue it is, and
who speak it all their days, who never realize
its worth and who go through life poverty-
stricken for want of words with which to ex-
press their thoughts, their feelings, and their
desires.
ON WEAK POINTS.
LAST holidays, when the Academy term was
ended, I asked Harry how he ranked.
“Well,” said he, “my average is only fair,
for though I am well up in my languages, yet I
do so hate mathematics that I am always at the
very bottom of the class with them, so, of course,
that pulls down my general average; but in
Latin "--and he smiled gayly —“I am leading
the crowd.”
“Then you really enjoy the languages P’’ said
I, “and they come easy to you?”
“Oh, yes,” he answered readily. “I like
them ever so much,”
ON WEAK POINTS. 35
“Which do you give the most time to,” I
asked, “your Latin or your Algebra 2"
“Why, my Latin, of course,” he answered,
surprised. “I wont bother about my Algebra
any more than I must.”
“Ah, but you are making a mistake,” said I.
“It is precisely because you don't like it and
do n't take to it naturally that you ought to cul-
tivate it. You should spend three times as
much time on your Algebra as you do on your
Latin. You have as much sense as the average
boy, and if you would apply yourself you could
comprehend mathematics as well as any one;
your brain needs just that clear and exact
habit of thought which can be cultivated by a
mathematical training and nothing else, and
you will miss it all your life if you do not take
it now while you can get it.”
But Harry hopelessly shook his head. “I
can never do anything at it; it is no use to try.”
“Harry,” said I, “you began to tell me a
little while since of that friend of yours with
the weak chest, and how slender and round-
shouldered he was when he began at the
Academy, and you said he had no muscle what-
ever; and you told me how he took to practising
every day in the gymnasium with the rowing-
machine and with boxing-gloves. Seems to me
that was very silly for a fellow like him.”
36 TALKS TO BOYS.
“Why, no,” answered Harry, alert in a min-
ute, for he admires “muscle " above all things.
“Why, no. You just ought to see him now.
His chest has expanded five inches, and his
biceps—they are as hard as rocks, and he is as
straight in the back as anybody. It was just
the thing for him.”
“Exactly,” I answered, smiling, “and I wish
that you would show as much sense in the train-
ing of your mind as your friend has in the train-
ing of his body. You would find the results
quite as admirable if you would treat your brain
to a course of mathematical athletics. You
would find that portion of your brain-cells which
you would be forced to use improved, strength-
ened, and quickened by use quite as much as
the flaccid muscles of your friend's body were
improved by his exercise.” *
My boys who read this, I don't know what
your weak points may be, but I know that you
have them, for there never was a character in
this world—save One—that was perfectly sym-
metrical and strong at every point. But this I
do know, that it is possible for you to make
your weak point, whatever it may be, the very
strongest point of your character, for there you
know that you are liable to be tempted; so there
you can be perpetually on guard, so that it will
lbe impossible for the enemy to surprise you,
THE SOUL OF HONOR. 37
and there—God helping you—you can always
win the fight.
THE SOUL 0F HONOR.
THERE is a certain quality of the moral na-
ture which is called honor. The dictionary de-
fines it as “true nobleness of mind, springing
from probity, principle, or moral rectitude,” and
calls it “a distinguishing characteristic of good
men.” Such a quality will bear thinking about
a little.
The other day a certain wealthy gentleman,
speaking of a young man in his employ, said, “I
would trust him with every dollar I possess.
He is the Soul Of honor.”
These were not idle words, for I knew he
was in the habit of confiding to that young man
large business interests which involved a great
deal of capital; I knew, too, that he had no
security for his money; he “trusted him.”
Once in a large boys' school a disturbance
occurred which involved nearly a whole class.
The master sent for the principal of the school.
He entered the room and 1jstened to the teach-
er's account of the trouble; then, glancing
around at the pupils, he said, “I should like to
know exactly how this happened, so I will ask
Fred B to tell me.”
38 TALKS TO BOYS.
Fred stood up and related the occurrence
from beginning to end clearly and fairly, na-
ming no names, but taking his share of the
blame, and then sat down.
“Now,” said the principal, “I should like the
other boys who have been implicated in this
trouble to follow Fred's example and acknowl-
edge it as he has done.” And the other lads
arose and owned up also.
Afterwards in speaking of the affair the
principal said, “I knew I could rely upon Fred
to tell me the exact truth without fear or favor,
for though he may be led astray in a moment of
excitement, he is always willing to acknowledge
when he has done wrong. There is nothing
underhanded or mean about him. I have tried
him and tested him often, and he is regarded by
both his classmates and teachers as the soul of
honor.”
It is somewhat rare, and it certainly is a
very beautiful thing, to have a reputation such
as this young man possessed, and it is some-
thing worth striving one's whole life long to
win; and yet such a character is built of very
little things. Many people who would indig-
nantly deny that they ever told a falsehood,
nevertheless seem quite incapable of relating a
thing exactly as it occurred. They will either
enlarge or detract or vary the statement in some
THE SOUL OF HONOR. 39
way, so that their words are not reliable. And
many a lad in business who would not take a
dollar from his firm unlawfully, will yet take
that firm's stamps and letter-paper for his pri-
vate correspondence. The firm will never feel
it, it is true, but that 1ad's character will feel it;
and the boy who habitually does such things
will in the end find his conscience so blunted
that dishonesty will come easy to him, and he
will not be able to withstand some sudden,
sharp temptation, and he will fall. Those who
do not know him well will be surprised; but
those who know his real life will know that for
years his character has been undermined by
trifling deceptions and dishonesties, just as the
Ocean slowly encroaches upon a sandy shore,
and at last, during some terrible storm, when
the wind is raging, it will gather itself in its
might and wash inland, bearing devastation and
death and changing the whole face of the
country.
The lad who cheats a little in his games or
remains silent while others cheat; he who learns
his lessons with a “crib,” or takes his diagrams
or dates into class upon his cuffs, or gets his
answers from his neighbor—yes, and the boy
who gives such unlawful help too—they are dis-
honorable boys, and it would be better for them
if they had never been born than to live on and
4O TALKS TO BOYS.
grow up and carry into life such principles as
these. But no boy means to do that. He means
to do it “just once,” because he is hard pressed
for some reason. Think a minute. Did you
never do it but once 2 The boy who does it
Once is very apt to do it again, and to go on
doing such things until they become the habit
and practice of his life. Therefore a boy should
be very watchful that no petty deceit or dishon-
esty ever stains his life, and to behave in all
things so truly and so nobly that those who
know him best and 10ve him dearest can proudly
and gladly say of him, “He is the soul of
Honor.”
WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO D0 IT.
THE best book of all to read is of course the
Bible. It is the most interesting book in the
world. Almost any one would admit that, and
yet I know that if I should put the question
“honor bright” to some of the boys who read
this article, they would answer honestly that
they do not think so. This is partly because
they have not learned to read the Bible prop-
erly.
Many people read the Bible in a piecemeal
sort of way, a chapter every night before they
go to bed, and they bring up their children to
WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO Do IT. 41
do the same. Now a few verses from the Bible
are a very good thing to go to sleep on, but one
will never get a real knowledge of the book by
reading it in that way only. Such reading is
for rest and comfort, but it is not for informa-
tion. And how many of you who read in that
fashion remember from one night to another
what you read? The end of a chapter does not
by any means necessarily conclude the subject
of which it treats, or even indicate a good place
for stopping, for the narrative or argument may
be continued through several chapters, or in-
deed to the end of the book. You should give
the Bible as fair a chance to interest you as you
give any other book, and any other book you
read connectedly from beginning to end. Sup-
pose next Sunday afternoon when you are nei-
ther tired nor sleepy, but when you feel just in
the mood for a good comfortable read, instead of
taking tip your Sunday-school book or a reli-
gious paper, you settle yourself with your Bible
and read the Acts of the Apostles from the first
verse to the last, and when you have finished it
you will have a realizing sense of the courage
and devotion of the men whom Christ chose to
plant his church; and Peter and Paul and
James and John will seem like live men to you,
and real heroes too, and you will want to trace
their lives from beginning to end.
42 TALKS TO BOYS.
By reading a book through you get a clear
idea of the author's design, and you are able to
appreciate the beauty and force of the language
which he uses.
Another good way to read the Bible is to
take it by subjects. The Old Testament biog-
raphies are exceedingly interesting. Take the
life of Moses or Joseph or David and read it
through, and you will be sure to like it. After
you have once begun to enjoy the Bible I am
sure you will never 1eave off. You will read it
more and 1ove it better and better the 1onger
you live, and the better you become acquainted
with it the more you will wonder at its inex-
haustible riches.
After the Bible the next best thing for a boy
to read is a good newspaper. Newspapers are
the publishers of modern history. They bring
the history of our own times to us every morn-
ing, and every great question which affects the
welfare of mankind is reflected in them. It is
not necessary to read about the commitment of
horrible crimes or the execution of criminals, or
topics of that nature, but you do want to know
about the history of the last strike, for instance,
because it concerns the great struggle between
capital and labor which you are to help decide
in a few years. You should keep track of the
doings of Congress and the gist of the Presi.
WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO READ. 43
dent's messages and international legislation,
and foreign topics you should not miss. Think
of the things which have happened abroad this
past year, the centennial jubilees, the death of
kings and eminent statesmen. One cannot pass
these things by. Besides all this, the latest dis-
coveries in every science are reported in the
newspapers, the explorations of unknown coun-
tries are mirrored there, descriptions of the best
and newest works in literature, in music, are in
its columns, and to read the newspapers is in
itself a 1iberal education. Therefore I would
advise every boy who is too busy to give much
attention to general literature, to read carefully
the news of the day, for if he does he cannot
fail of being an intelligent man, and then, when
a time of leisure comes, he will have an excel-
lent foundation to build upon when he is able
to cultivate his mind more thoroughly.
WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO READ.
WHAT books should our boys read? That is
a wide question. There are quantities of charm-
ing books now-a-days which are published on
purpose for young people, many of which are
both delightful and instructive. Dear old “Tom
Brown at Rugby,” for instance, is one of the
44 TALKS TO BOYS.
best of friends and companions for any boy.
But I should not advise a boy to depend upon
this class of literature. I believe in reading
for profit as well as for pleasure, and the best
results will be obtained by cultivating an ac-
quaintance with general English literature.
There are three sorts of boys in this world:
those with a healthy appetite for good whole-
Some reading, which they take to as naturally
as they do to beefsteak and potatoes; and those
who because of various circumstances have not
been thrown much with books and who think
that they do not like to read, though they really
do not know whether they do or not; and lastly,
those whose taste has become vitiated by read-
ing the trashy, exciting, cheap literature which
has inundated the country like a flood, until
other books seem stale and flat to them. Now
this article is chiefly for the two latter sorts of
boys, and for the 1ast mentioned class I am par-
ticularly sorry, because they are not very well in
their minds, and I would like to cure them if I
could. I wish I could make every boy who
reads this understand the unspeakable delight
which comes from reading a good book; then I
should be sure that whatever else might fail
him in the way of earthly joys, he would be
sure of One great happiness and consolation.
Boys who are in business particularly need
WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO READ. 45
to cultivate the habit of reading because they
are apt to leave school early, and if they are
not careful they will become so absorbed in
the fierce competition which now characterizes
all sorts of business that by the time they are
twenty-five they will care for nothing else, and
by the time they are fifty they will be in the
condition of a poor man whom I Once knew,
who, broken in health, but with more money
than he could use, still dragged himself daily
to business and went on making more, because,
as he pitifully remarked, he did not know what
else to do.
“But,” says my business boy, who works
nights during the busy season and who does n't
like reading, “do you suppose that I could
study English literature ?”
Certainly I do. A boy who can spare on
an average an hour a day for reading will
be able to read a good deal in the course of the
year.
“But,” says my boy who does n't like read-
ing, “I can't bear poetry.”
When a boy says that to me I always try
him with “Horatius at the Bridge,” or Tenny-
son's ballad of “The Revenge.” If he does
not like either of those poems I conclude that
ine is right in his own estimate of his taste; but
I never met a boy who did not like such poetry.
46 TALKS TO BOYS.
“Well,” says my boy again, “history is aw
fully dull. I never can remember the dates.”
But, I answer, you can remember the cen-
tury in which the events occurred, and that
will do very well. Try it with Green's “Shorter
History of the English People,” and see if you
cannot. For essays, try Charles Dudley War-
ner's “Being a Boy,” and you will discover
that an essay is not necessarily a dull and unin-
teresting thing, “as dry as a chip,” as many a
boy supposes. For biographies take, perhaps,
James T. Fields’ “Yesterdays With Authors,”
or Noah Brooks’ “Historic Boys,” or “Sea
Kings and Naval Heroes,” by J. G. Edgar, and
for a story of travel and adventure take Lieut.
Greely's “Three Years of Arctic Service.”
You will not understand all of the scientific
allusions, but if your heart does not beat fast
by the time you have finished reading how
Lieut. Lockwood with his two devoted com-
panions won the “Farthest North,” then you
are not the boy I take you for. For novels
there is gallant Sir Walter Scott, one of my
childhood's very best friends. If you do not
know him, you had best read “Ivanhoe” right
away.
The best short story that I know of for boys
is Edward Everett Hale's “Man Without a
Country.”
ON SELF-CONTROL. 47
And now, my boy who “does n’t like to read,”
if you should read one of the articles or books
in each class which I have named, do you real-
ize that you would have had a taste of history,
biography, essays, poetry, and novels? and these
are the component parts of general English lit-
erature. And after having taken a taste you will
discover that the table is spread and you have
only to help yourself wisely and judiciously to
whatever you please; and the habit of reading
good books when once formed, besides giving
a great deal of pleasure, cannot fail to make
you a cultivated man, whether you have had
the advantage of being trained in the Schools
Or not.
ON SELF-0ONTROL.
THERE is no quality which a boy admires
more than that of self-control, and it is right to
admire it, for it is only the man who has con-
trol of himself that can control others and can
be of value and service to the community in
which he lives.
No one can hear untouched such a story, for
instance, as that of the English troopship which
sprung aleak, and the Officers and men, when
they found they could not save her, safely and
quickly transferred their wives and children to
48 TALKS TO BOYS.
the boats, and then, drawn up at quarters, each
man at his post, quietly and calmly went down
with the ship, content with having saved the
lives which were dearer to them than their own.
The heroic endurance of pain, the ready wit
in an emergency, the lightning-like quickness
Of thought which plans and the steady hand
which executes a rescue, such traits command
the respect and admiration of every one, and
every boy wishes that he could possess them.
Boys, and older people too, are apt to think
that these qualities are an especial gift, like a
genius for music or art, and that no one can
behave in this way unless it is, as the phrase
goes, “born in him.” It is true that to some
self-control comes easier than to others, but it
is without doubt a quality which can be culti-
vated. You can have it or not as you choose.
A friend of mine who was a volunteer dur-
ing the late war, though at that time he was
scarcely more than a lad, was relating to a few
friends something of his experience. He is one
of the most quiet, retiring, and gentle of men,
not at all a man whom One would suspect of
having soldier stuff in him.
“Were you never afraid?” Some one asked
him curiously.
“Yes,” he answered frankly, “I was always
afraid. I never went into a fight in my life
ON SELF-CONTROL. 49
that I did not tremble just in the beginning,
and any 1 minute I would have been glad to
run for old Vermont. But,” with a 11ttle smile,
“I did n't do it. I suppose,” he continued, turn-
ing to me, “that you would call me a coward.”
“If you had run away,” I answered, “per-
haps I should ; but my idea of a brave man is,
not one who does not know the meaning of the
word fear, but rather one who knows the feel-
ing, and who conquers it, and does his duty
just the same.”
I could not say to his face what I knew to
be a fact, that he had won promotion three
times for conspicuous gallantry upon the field
of battle, and that he had inspired his men
with such confidence in him that they would
follow anywhere he led.
Therefore if a boy feels that he is lacking in
self-control, the best thing he can do is to prac-
tise it every chance he gets. There are several
young men of my acquaintance who faint at
the sight of blood, and when thero is an ac-
cident in their vicinity they every one of them
get out of the way, because if they are called
upon to help they may drop at just the most
critical minute. They all regard the trait as
constitutional, but it is my belief that if they
would exert their will power sufficiently they
could conquer their infirmity.
Talks To Boys. 4.
5O TALKS TO BOYS.
There is nothing more desirable than the
ability to keep cool in case of an accident, and
it is well to have some idea of what to do until
the doctor comes. There are several excellent
1ittle books which are printed for this purpose.
After he comes, do exactly what he tells you.
He will never ask you to do anything which
you cannot do if you pay strict attention, con-
trol yourself, and try.
The best way to maintain self-control in an
emergency is to always keep control of your-
self when there is no emergency; that is, to
practise it all the time, for one has plenty of
opportunity in every-day life. Keep your tem-
per through every game, no matter how ex-
citing. When some one else wins the prize
which you have been striving for during the
whole term, shake hands with the victor and
say, “I’m glad you have won it.” If a sudden
insult comes, which seems to make every drop
of blood in your body boil indignantly to the
surface, clinch your teeth until you can answer
calmly, or do not speak at all. Never allow
yourself to become so excited that you do not
know what you are about. Train the hands
and feet and eyes and brain to constantly
serve you well, and then they will not fail you
in time of trouble; and you will find that in
sudden need, instead of being paralyzed with
WHICH WAS THE BRAVER P 5 I
fright and helpless, you can think and act with
a quickness and capacity which, when it is all
over, will seem surprising even to yourself; or
if it should be your lot to bear instead of to do,
you can endure with a composure which will be
a comfort to yourself and to all of your friends.
WHICH WAS THE BRAVER 2
THEY were looking at the ice on the river
one day early in the winter. The ponds were
frozen and the Branch was frozen, but no one
yet had had a skate on the deep and rapid
river, and all the boys were aching to try it.
It lay before them frozen from shore to shore,
a smooth expanse of dark and glassy ice, most
tempting to the sight of any boy, and to the
little group of lads who stood eying it it was
almost irresistible. They had been skating on
the Branch, so they had their skates in their
hands, and every now and then one of them
would venture out upon the ice and stamp
about to try it. At last one lad came back from
one of these short excursions.
“Pooh " said he stamping, “it’s safe, safe
enough for an elephant, and I am going to try
it. I dare any one of you fellows to skate across
with me. Dare, dare, double dare you, Fritz
52 TALKS TO BOYS.
Ward, to do it,” and down he sat to put on his
skates. “What!” said Jack, “nobody coming?
Not you, Fritz Ward? The champion skater
of the town refuses. Well, well !”
“No, I'm not going,” answered Fritz.
But his refusal was not because he was
afraid or because he did not want to go, for
he was all eagerness to be off; but he had
promised his mother that he would not go on
the river until it had been pronounced perfectly
safe, and he never yet had broken his word to
her, and that was all that held him.
Jack was cutting airy circles near the shore
and watching them, smiling.
“Well, good-by, 'fraid cats,” said he, and
giving his hand a little mocking flourish, off
be flew straight towards the middle of the river,
and his light, boyish figure seemed to skim the
ice like a bird; but light as he was, it bent be-
neath him as he sped. The lads on the bank
saw it and cried, “Come back,” but he never
heeded, in fact he was afraid to turn, and in
another instant down he went. His comrades
stared as if they were dreaming at that little
black hole in the ice where Jack went down;
and though those boys now are middle-aged
men, yet they can shut their eyes, any one
of them to-day, and see again that snow-clad
shining landscape, and the gleaming river with
WHICH WAS THE BRAVER.? 53
that little black hole in it well out towards
the middle. It was but an instant when they
saw Jack's head once more, and his face was
turned towards them. He threw his arms out
on to the ice and it broke beneath his weight,
but before he sank he grasped it again with his
other arm and it bore him for a moment, only
to break again, but it brought him a little
nearer to his friends. Instantly he compre-
hended what he had to do. He had to break
his way bit by bit through the ice across that
dreadful river. His friends could not help him,
so like the gallant lad he was, he fought on inch
by inch for his life, while his friends on shore
cheered him all they could.
“ Fellows,” said Fritz Ward, watching him
keenly, “he will never reach us without help;
take off your comforters”—they all wore gay
worsted scarfs knotted around their necks, and
each of them was fully two yards long. “Knot
them together tightly,” Fritz continued. “I
know the bottom here, and I am going out as
far as I can to meet him. I shall throw him
these and you must help me. I am going in
up to my waist, and you must all throw your-
selves on your faces and work yourselves out
one after the other. Each fellow hang on to
the other, and you, Joe Anderson, come next
to me and steady me.”
54 TALKS TO BOYS.
It was planned and done in a minute. Fritz,
with the coil of comforters ten yards long, went
out until the ice cracked beneath him, and then
he 1et himself down into the water. Joe An-
derson, who was the lightest boy there, had cau-
tiously worked himself out and lay near enough
to give a steadying hand to Fritz, who was in
up to his arm-pits, but his arms were free.
“Just a little nearer, old boy,” shouted Fritz
to Jack, “and I'll throw it,” and poor Jack
struggled a moment more. “Now,” cried Fritz,
and threw the rope, and the end lay well within
Jack's reach. He grasped it and Fritz drew
nim inch by inch through the splintering ice
until he had him by the collar; then the ice
broke under Joe and 1et him down, but he
landed on his feet, and together he and Fritz
tied one end of the comforters under Jack's
arms and tossed the other end to the other
boys. Then somehow they got him on to the
ice, and the other boys pulled him cautiously
ashore. After that Fritz and Joe were helped
Out, and the dry boys piled their overcoats on
to the wet boys, and they took Jack, who was
by that time quite unconscious, safe home.
When Jack was convalescing from his at-
tack of pneumonia the first boy he wanted to
see was Fritz. He held out his hand to him
with a smile.
which WAS THE BRAVERP 55
“Old boy,” said he, “if it had n't been for
you I would n't be here.”
“Pshaw'” answered Fritz, “it was the com-
forters did the business.”
“Ah!” said Jack, “the comforters were a
very good thing, but I would never have got
Hold of them if it had n't been for you. You
need not try to get out of it. If you had n't
been as quick as thought and chock full of
pluck beside, I would n't be in this world now.
And the sense you've got too, Fritz,” Jack went
on reflectively; “first time I ever knew you not
to take a dare. How did it happen?”
“Oh,” answered Fritz, laughing, “that was
not any sense of mine. I would have been
after you fast enough if I had n't promised my
mother that I would n’t go on the river that
day.” wº
“Well,” said Jack, “my old doctor says there
is a difference between courage and foolhardi-
ness, and it is pretty plain which quality he
thinks I have shown the most of recently; but
in the future I am going to keep what little
courage I have left to use when it is needed,
instead of fooling it away in such a scrape as
this.”
All this happened years ago, but the lesson
Jack then learned has never been forgotten.
He has had plenty of battles to fight since
56 TALKS TO BOYS.
then, and he has fought them bravely; but his
old foolhardy, daring ways, which so threatened
to injure his character, he left behind him for-
ever on that terrible day when he fell through
the ice into Green River.
A DANGER SIGNAL.
ONCE, when I was a little girl, I took a drive
that I shall never forget. A party of us were
going to attend the commencement exercises of
a college which was situated about three miles
from the town in which we lived. Our own car-
riage was filled with guests and driven away,
and my mother and I accepted seats in the car-
riage of a neighbor. This neighbor's horses
were a pair of frisky young colts—beautiful,
spirited creatures—not long since broken to the
harness, and the gentleman who undertook to
drive us was a friend from a distance who was
little accustomed to the management of horses;
but no trouble was apprehended, as the horses
were not at all vicious and the roads were excel-
lent. We had proceeded only a short distance,
However, when we noticed that the horses did
not go with their usual fine, steady gait. They
began to prance and fret and to act decidedly
nervous. Our driver only irritated them by his
A DANGER SIGNAL. 57
efforts to control them, and at last they broke
away and dashed into a run. My mother
clasped me close as we whirled along, the light
buggy swaying and rocking dangerously over
every inequality of the road, when suddenly,
just as we were giving ourselves up for lost, a
young fellow with the figure of an athlete
sprang out from the roadside, seized the horses
by their heads, and with one powerful move-
ment turned them toward the fence and stopped
them. They were quivering in every nerve,
and with the touch and tone of a born horseman
he began to soothe them, meanwhile examining
the harness with a knowing eye.
“Why,” said he, “these horses are hitched
up wrong. It is no wonder they ran away.”
And he began altering straps and buckles to
rectify the mistake.
By this time the horses were much quieted
and my mother had recovered herself, and she
called the young gentleman to her side. I shall
never forget his bright, gallant face and his
noble bearing as he came forward to receive
the thanks with which she overwhelmed him.
My mother then took me on her lap, and our
preserver, seating himself beside us, drove us
safely to the college.
This was the beginning of Our acquaintance
with this young man, and it will not harm him
58 TALKS TO BOYS.
now if I give the history of that acquaintance
until its close. It may perhaps serve as a sort of
danger signal to some other young man who
is possessed of a similar temperament and who
is beginning to travel in the way he went. Let
us call him for the time of this story Harry Bel-
den.
After the college exercises were concluded
my mother spoke to the president, who was an
old and much valued friend of our family, and
related our adventure, and spoke in warm terms
of our preserver.
“Ah,” responded he, “it was Harry Belden,
was it? I wish, Mrs. H , that you would in-
vite him to your house.”
“I have already done so,” said my mother,
somewhat surprised. “He is coming to tea to-
morrow evening.”
“He is the son of my old friend Horace
Belden, of L-,” explained the president,
speaking somewhat gravely. “He is to spend
his vacation with me at my house, and next fall
he enters college. The fact is, he is somewhat
dissipated, and I have promised my friend Bel-
den to do what I can for him, so he is to be
under my own eye, and we hope a good deal
from a quiet country life. He 's a charming
fellow, charming,” he added emphatically, “and
he is too young to be lost. I shall be glad for
A DANGER SIGNAL. 59
him to have your house to go to, for it is a
cheerful place, and he will enjoy it.”
Every tender feeling in my mother's heart
was roused for this young fellow who had saved
her life and that of her child, and yet was so
near to making shipwreck of his own. She and
my father made him thoroughly welcome at our
home, and as the president had prophesied, he
did enjoy it. My two young lady aunts who
resided with us filled the house with life and
gayety, and Harry Belden's frequent visits made
the bright summer days seem brighter still. He
was indeed a “charming fellow,” bubbling over
with wit and mirth, generous, kind-hearted, and
obliging, and gifted with a handsome face and
manners of a thorough gentleman. I do not
think that in all his life he had known, or that
he ever did know in after years, the sensation of
physical fear. A thing to be really enjoyable to
him must have a spice of danger; a situation
that would justly alarm another but produced a
sense of exhilaration in him. It was but a pleas-
urable excitement. It brought his “blood up,”
as he himself expressed it, and then whose foot
SO fleet, whose hand so firm, whose nerve so
steady as his? Of course, possessing such a dis-
position, he excelled in all manly exercises. A
good shot, a fine rider, an excellent swimmer,
and devoted to athletic games, in all these
6O TALKS TO BOYS.
things he was more than fine, he was recklessly
daring. But, alas ! this craving for excitement
was his ruin; it made all simple, normal pleas-
ures seem dull and tame, and he turned to
intoxicating drink for satisfaction. He under-
stood the danger he was in and appreciated
President F-'s efforts in his behalf. June
and July had gone by, and the last days of Au-
gust were come, and still Harry Belden had
made no slip from the right path, and his friends
were hoping that a reform had really begun.
But, alas! one August evening he did not return
home as usual; nine, ten o'clock passed, and
still he did not come. Then President F-
drove down to the town and instituted a search
through its liquor saloons, and in one of them
Harry Belden was discovered almost dead drunk.
He was assisted into the buggy and taken home
and cared for by his kind friend. When he
came to himself he was very penitent, and the
grief and disappointment of the dear old “Prex,”
as the boys all called him, affected him greatly.
“I’m not worth it, sir,” he said to him.
“You would much better let me go.”
But President F-- would not let him go;
he called upon him by every sense of duty and
honor that he possessed to fight the demon
which had conquered him, and he promised to
try again. Perhaps the most discouraging thing
A DANGER SIGNAL. 6 I
about him was the ready way in which he would
promise to coöperate with any efforts which were
made for his reform ; for with the first sharp
temptation he would break every promise, and
yield apparently without an effort. Autumn
came and the students returned to college, and
Harry joined the Sophomore class. He proved to
have a quick and retentive mind, and the presi-
dent hoped that the necessity of steady and regu,
lar work would be of benefit to him ; but far from
it. As soon as the novelty of his position had
faded he began to associate with the worst char-
acters of the class, and one night under his lead-
ership they indulged in a wine supper, which
ended in such a scene of debauchery as was a
disgrace to the whole college. This could not
be overlooked ; it was a case for expulsion, and
Harry knew it.
“It’s no use, sir,” said he to the president.
“I told you so months ago; but do n’t think that
I do not remember your kindness to me. I do,
though I have abused it so shamefully.”
Harry Belden went home to his parents, and
we never saw him again; but the rest of his sad
story can be told in a few words. He made two
or three futile efforts to reform after this, and
during one of them he married a lovely young
girl of his native city. She had but a few
months of happiness; he fell again, and de-
62 TALKS TO BOYS.
serted her, going to a distant city. There, under
an assumed name, he married another young
lady. But his fraud was soon discovered, and
he is now serving out a sentence for bigamy
in the prison of his native State.
This is a sad story to read. It has been a sad
story to write. And if it were not for the hope
of arresting some careless footsteps which are
beginning to tread the downward path that
Harry Belden trod, it would never have been
written.
People used to say in a kind of sad excuse
for Harry's doings that “he was his own worst
enemy.” This was pitifully, shamefully true;
for, with all his courage and his daring, there
was one person whom he never dared to face,
and in whose presence he was a miserable cow-
ard, and that person was himself. If he had
sought the aid of our best and ever-present
Friend, resolved to conquer his evil impulses
and desires at whatever cost, he would have
been to-day a noble man, honored, respected,
and beloved by all who knew him, instead of
what he is, a poor miserable felon.
KATE'S BROTHER JACK. 63
ROATE'S BROTHER JACK.
“YOU seem to think a great deal of your
sister,” said one of Jack's chums to him the
other day, as if the fact was rather sur-
prising. -
“Why, yes, I do,” responded Jack heartily.
“Kit and I are great friends.”
“You always,” continued the other, “seem
to have such a good time when you are out to-
gether.”
“Well,” laughed Jack, “the fact is that when
I have Kit out I keep all the while forgetting
that she is n’t some other fellow's sister.”
I pondered somewhat over this conversation,
wishing that all the brothers and sisters in the
world were as good friends as Jack and Kate
Hazell, and wondering why they were not. It
struck me that the answer to my query was con-
tained in Jack's last sentence. Boys don't
usually treat their sisters as they would if they
were “some other fellow's sisters.” Jack is a
shining exception. He kneels to put on Kate's
Overshoes as gallantly as if she were Bessie
Dare, and Bessie Dare is at present Jack's ideal
of all that is loveliest in girlhood. If at a party
at a neighbor's, he takes Kate in to supper him-
self, and cares for her in all ways as an escort
should; and Kate knows what to expect of him
64 TALKS TO BOYS.
and what to do herself, and is not in dread of
desertion or of being left to the tender mercies
of any one who notices her forlorn condition.
And I don't wonder, when I see how nicely he
treats her, that Kate declares that she would
rather have her brother Jack for an escort than
almost any one else in the world.
At home, too, Jack is a pattern. Though
there is a constant merry war between brother
and sister, and jokes and repartees fly thick and
fast, yet it is always fair cut and thrust between
them, all for sport and naught for malice; the
wit never degenerates into rudeness. Then,
too, if Kate does anything for him her kindness
is always acknowledged. Does she take the
trouble to make for him his favorite rice grid-
dle-cakes, and then stay in the kitchen to bake
them herself, that they may acquire that delicate
golden brown which is so dear to the taste of all
who love them truly, Jack never fails to assure
her that her efforts are appreciated.
Does she paint him a teacup and saucer or
embroider him a hat-band, he is as delighted as
possible. He does not take all these things as a
matter of course. On Saturday nights he is apt
to remember her by a box of candy, a bunch of
flowers, or a bottle of her favorite violet per-
fume. Best of all he talks to her. He tells her
his thoughts, his hopes and fears, his disap-
“MOTHER'S OWN BOY.” 65
pointments, and his plans for the future. In
short, they are, as he said, “great friends.”
Some of Jack's comrades rather envy him his
good fortune in possessing so devoted a sister as
Kate, and they have been heard to say frankly
that they wish their sisters were as nice as Kate
Hazell. If those boys would pursue the same
course of action towards their sisters that Jack
does towards his, they might, perhaps, be re-
warded with as delightful a result; for it is by
little acts of kindness and courtesy and consid-
eration that Jack has made of his sister a friend
whose love will never grow cold, whose devo-
tion will never falter, and whose loyalty will
never fail while life shall last.
“MOTHER'S OWN BOY.”
WE hear a good deal in these days about
boys being neglected, unappreciated individ-
uals. It is said that every one is so absorbed in
the girls that the boys are treated rather care-
lessly. Some people even go so far as to Say
that the boys' own mothers prefer their sisters
to them. If this were true it would be very
dreadful. I have looked into the subject some-
what, and have come to the conclusion that
where such is the case it is the boys' own fault.
When the sons are as attentive and helpful and
5
66 TALKS TO BOYS. *-
loving as the daughters, their mothers usually
value them about alike.
Some boys have the idea that they can't and
wont do “girls' work.” If those same boys
would practise that sort of employment a little
when mother is laid up with a sick headache, or
sister Maggie is off for a well-earned week's holi-
day, it would be a very nice thing for the fam-
ily. I know boys who have tried it and have
not found it so distressing.
I have the honor to know one boy seventeen
years old who does all the family washing every
Saturday morning. His mother's only assistant
in her housework is his little sister, aged ten,
and the son has decided that during his school-
1ife there is one burden that he can take from
his mother's weary shoulders, and that is the
great bugbear of washing day; and so every
Saturday morning he rolls his shirt sleeves up
to his shoulders, ties a good stout apron in front
of him, and plunges into the suds; and it is one
of the most beautiful sights I know of to see
him.
“Cheerily rub and rinse and wring
And hang up the clothes to dry.”
I know another boy who did all of his fam-
ily's ironing during one summer, except the
shirts; those, he was forced to confess, were too
much for his skill. I know boys who can run
“MOTHER'S OWN BOY.” 67
the sewing-machine, and who can sweep, wash
dishes, and trim lamps on Occasion. I even
know boys who can cook. One boy in particu-
1ar I call to mind whose corn-muffins are the
pride of the family, and if there is company Jim
is always called upon to contribute some of his
inimitable hot corn-cakes for breakfast. These
boys, I assure you, are appreciated in the home
circle; and when their mothers talk them over,
if their right ears don't burn, why, there's no
truth in signs, that's all!
If there is no need for a boy to do housework,
then let him do whatever is his appointed work
with cheerful promptness. Every boy ought to
have, and most boys do have, some daily tasks
to do, the non-performance of which makes a jar
in the family machine. If you have the furnace
fire in charge, see to it regularly night and
morning. I know a boy whose work it is to
take care of the furnace in his home, and he
could hardly seem more unwilling to go down
the cellar stairs if that cellar was a dungeon cell
in which he was about to be incarcerated for
life. His father, his mother, and his sisters all
have to “be after" him twice a day in order to
get him to perform that simple duty. If you
have the kindling-wood to cut, keep the wood-
box full. If you have an errand to do, do it
pleasantly. I heard a mother request her son
68 TALKS TO BOYS.
to go of an errand the other day, and this was
the response she received: “Well, there's one
thing Job did n't have to do anyhow ; he did n't
have to go to the store to get a quart of mo-
lasses!" There is a way of doing even an errand
“heartily, as unto the Lord,” and a beautiful
way it is, but that boy did n't practise it that
time. - -
Perhaps some boy who has read thus far in
this article feels like reminding the writer of the
old proverb, “All work and no play makes Jack
a dull boy.” Should that be the case, I will say
that I heartily agree with the proverb, and I
suggest that sometimes when “Jack” goes out
to play he should take his mother with him.
Astonish her by an invitation to a concert or a
1ecture or some other entertainment which you
think she would enjoy. Devote yourself to her
in your very best style for the evening and see
if she does not seem pleased. If there is likely
to be a good match for your base ball nine or a
race for your rowing club, invite your mother to
witness the contest, and if your side wins she
will be a proud mother.
There is a phrase which happy mothers
sometimes use — it is the one which I have
placed at the head of this article—that has al-
ways seemed a beautiful one to me, because
when I hear it I know that the one of whom it
OUT-OF-DOOR BEHAVIOR. 69
is spoken is strong and gentle, thoughtful, help-
ful, and cheery; in short, much that a son Ought
to be. And I hope that the mother of every boy
who reads these lines can say of him fondly and
proudly, “He is a good son; he is his ‘mother's
own boy.’”
OUT-OF-D00R BEHA VIOR.
THE other evening Rob was lying on the
sofa in the library and telling me about what
Ine called a “1ittle adventure '’ which he had
bad a day or two before. He had met a young
girl on the ferry-boat whom he had never seen
thefore, and, as he expressed it, “had had some
fun with her.”
“Why, Rob,” said I, “you do n’t mean to
say that you have been flirting, and with a
young lady who was a total stranger to you
loeside '''
“Well,” he answered, laughing a little, “she
wasn't exactly a young lady, you know. But
that is just what I did.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” said I.
“Where is the harm P” he answered. “She
1iked it. I would not have done it if she
1had n't.”
“That is just it,” I responded, “and if you
had not done it, certainly she could not, for it
70 TALKS TO BOYS.
always takes two to make a flirtation as well as
a bargain.”
“Seems to me,” said Rob, sitting up and
looking at me, “seems to me you are taking a
little bit of nonsense very seriously.”
“Yes,” I answered, “I am serious, but it is
Decause I do not think it is nonsense. See here,
Rob, how would you like to have some one flirt
with your sisters?”
“I'd like to see any fellow try it!” was the
instant response. “I'd punch his head for him.
But then no fellow ever would, you know, for
my sisters are ladies.” *
“But you should treat other fellows' sisters
with the same respect which you wish them to
show to your sisters,” said I, applying the Gol-
den Rule with a little twist to suit the Occasion.
“You ought to treat every woman, young or
old, rich or poor, plain or pretty, and of what-
ever condition, with as much respect as if she
were a lady; and you ought to do it for your
own sake as well as for theirs, because it is a
fact that the man or boy who habitually thinks
of women disrespectfully or lightly greatly in-
jures the tone of his moral character and opens
the door to temptations which, if he yields to
them, will ruin his life.”
It is very pleasant for a lady to feel when-
ever she goes out that, as the Old Song says,
5 y
ÖUT-OF-DOOR BEHAVIOR. 71
“Friends in all the old she'll find,
And brothers in the young.”
And I am glad to say that such is the treatment
which a lady usually receives in this country.
She can rely upon a ready courtesy and a gen-
erous help, when needed, from any man wher-
ever she may go; and such attentions it is
pleasant to give and equally pleasant to take.
For ever to be remembered is a certain gen-
tleman in rather a shabby coat and a shocking
load hat who one rainy day was riding up town
in a Fourth Avenue car, and who, when a
young girl with her arms full of parcels was
about to get out at Denning's, stopped the car
for her, seized her umbrella, opened it, and
escorted her to the shop-door safe and dry, and
then responding to her grateful “Thank you,
sir,” with a touch of the hat and a smile, ran
after his car, caught it, and disappeared therein.
Equally unforgotten is another gentleman who,
when a Broadway stage stopped in a mud-pud-
dle which the same young girl was about to step
despairingly into, said frankly, “Wait a minute.
Step on my foot and I’ll swing you across,” and
suiting the action to the word, he planted his
foot in what was apparently the worst spot of
all, and as she stepped upon it with one deft
swing she was landed safely on the opposite
pavement; and she went on her way with a
72 TALKS TO BOYS.
thankful heart and visions of Sir Walter Ral-
eigh flitting through her brain.
My paper has been occupied so far with sug.
gestions as to how you should behave to other
boys' sisters; but now how shall you behave
when you meet their maiden aunts, their mo-
thers, and their grandmothers? I asked my
particular Sir Philip Sydney a question once
which I think throws some light on this point.
I will explain that Sir Philip is a clerk in a
wholesale hardware store where they have very
long hours and very hard work. Said I, “Phil,
do you always give up your seat to a lady if she
is standing?”
“Well,” he answered, “some nights when I
am awfully tired I don't give up my seat to a
young lady; but I can't bear to see an old
woman, no matter whether she is a lady or not,
stand while I sit.”
Those whose behavior is regulated by such a
spirit will always be truly courteous to their
elders. It is a shame to see half a dozen young
fellows spring eagerly up to give a seat to a
beautiful girl, when they will not stir for a
worn, faded woman, with perhaps a bundle of
cheap sewing in her arms, and who is not in
any case one-tenth part as able to stand as
the bright, healthy young lady. They agitated
the question a while ago in dear old Boston
A TALK TO SHY BOYS. . 73
whether, if every seat in the street-car was
taken and a young man should see his mother's
cook enter, he was in courtesy bound—remem-
bering that she was a woman as well as a
cook—to rise and give her his seat. I for one
do not see why he should not.
After all, the truest guide to a courteous
behavior is the promptings of a kindly and
thoughtful spirit, and the best rule for the gov-
ernment of manners is the golden one. And if
our boys will cultivate the one and be guided by
the other, they cannot go far astray.
A TALK TO SHY BOYS.
ONE of my boy friends came to see me a
while ago; a very little boy he is, only six years
old, but he said something which set me think-
ing. He is such a shy little fellow that he re-
minds me of nothing so much as a little turtle
shut up in his shell. When he is alone with
me, however, he sometimes opens his shell and
gives me a glimpse of what is going on inside.
He did so on this occasion. He was seated on
the edge of the big rocking-chair with his small
hands thrust into the pockets of his first knick-
erbockers. His brow was wrinkled and he
looked very unhappy. Being such a little fel-
74 TALKS TO BOYS.
low, he could not express himself with much
fluency, but to me his very blunders were elo-
Quent.
“I’ve got to go a-visiting,” he remarked
gloomily. “I’ve got to go with mamma to see
my grandma. Do you know I have a grandma P
I have, and I’ve got aunties—I’ve got uncles—
and I’ve got—folks.”
He enumerated his relations as if each par-
ticular class were an especial affliction. He con-
tinued:
“There's an awful lot of people at my grand-
ma's house.” Here he left his chair and nes-
tled close to me. “I’ll tell you something,” he
said mysteriously; “I'm afraid of them. Last
time I went there I shivered—I did n't say any-
thing, but I shivered.”
And I thought of dozens of boys whom I
1<now, who are a good deal older than my little
turtle, to whom the hours which they are forced
to spend in society are so many hours of silent
agony. Like little Jack, they do n’t say any-
thing, but they shiver.
A while ago, too, I was present at an exami-
nation in one of the most thorough private
schools in the city. When the class in French
conversation was examined two brothers whom
I knew were in it. The elder was the more
thorough French scholar of the two, but the
A TALK TO SHY BOYS. 75
younger carried off the honors solely on ac-
count of his superior coolness and composure.
He was quite ready to chat with his teacher,
and even made a bright little joke in French
which delighted his audience. But when it was
His brother's turn, every idea forsook him ; he
started, flushed, and could only stammer out,
“ſ 'oub/ie, Monsieur,” and sat covered with con-
fusion as with a garment.
“I knew how it would be,” he said hope-
1essly afterwards. “I always go to pieces on
oral examinations.”
I felt so sorry for Hal that when I went
home I told Mrs. Experience about it. Mrs.
Experience is a wise woman who lives in our
family and whom I often consult on my own
and other people's difficulties.
“I wish,” said I to her, “that I could do
something to help shy boys.”
“I will tell you a little story that perhaps
may assist you," she said, Smiling.
“When I taught school twenty years ago in
Wisconsin, I had a scholar named Sam B. .
He was eighteen years old and was exceedingly
tall and awkward. He was backward in his
studies, for his educational advantages had
been limited; but he was very conscious of his
defects and feared ridicule. I think he was the
most bashful fellow I have ever known. Not-
76 TALKS TO BOYS.
withstanding all this he was bent on gaining
an education and was determined, as he ex-
pressed it, to “make a man of himself.'
“Of course I was ready to help him, and as
he had a fine mind, he went forward rapidly in
his studies.
“Now it was a rule of mine that my pupils
should each prepare either a declamation or a
composition for every Friday. This rule Sam
had hitherto been excused from. When I
thought him sufficiently advanced, however, I
told him to be prepared with a declamation on
the following Friday.
“‘Oh! Miss Grace,’ he objected, ‘I can't; any-
thing but that! I never could speak a piece.
All the fellows would laugh at the very idea.'
“‘But, Sam,' I urged, “it will be the best
thing in the world for you. What you lack is
confidence in yourself, and that would help you
to gain it.'
“‘I should certainly fail,' he answered.
“‘Sam,' said I, ‘you wont fail if you make
up your mind to succeed. At all events you
must recite some selection before the school on
Friday next.”
“‘What will you do if I refuse?' asked he.
“‘You would be obliged to leave the school,'
I answered promptly. “I can have no scholar in
my school who refuses to accede to my wishes.’
A TALK TO SHY BOYS. 77
“‘Well,” he replied, ‘that's fair. If I make
up my mind that I can't speak, of course I'll
leave.’
“I watched for Friday with a good deal of
anxiety. In about the middle of the exercises I
said, “We will now have a recitation by Samuel
B .'
“Sam turned a11 sorts of colors, but he walked
forward to the platform, made his bow, and es-
sayed to speak; but he shook all over and the
words would not come. Fifty pairs of curious
eyes seemed boring into his very soul, and his
voice died away in a husky whisper. He walked
stiffly to the water-pail, took a drink, and came
back to the platform; just then he heard a sup-
pressed titter, and that struck fire. Grasping a
shaking knee in each hand, he thus apostro-
phized his recreant limbs:
“‘Keep still,’ he cried, ‘keep still, I tell you,
for I will speak.'
“That loosed his tongue, and the famous old
periods came rolling out:
“‘Not many generations ago, where we now
sit, encircled by all that exalts and embellishes
civilized life, the rank thistle nodded in the
wind and the wild fox dug his hole unscared,’
and SO on.
“That boy,” concluded Mrs. Experience, fan-
ning herself complacently, “became a member
78 TALKS TO BOYS.
of Congress from his native State, and a very
eloquent speaker he is too.”
I thanked Mrs. Experience for her kindness
in telling me this story and went on thinking,
but it seemed to me that I saw a glimmer of
daylight.
That very evening Charlie Axtell dropped
into the sitting-room, just home from his first
trip West as a commercial traveller. Now
Charlie is a very domestic, home-loving fellow,
modest and unobtrusive, with but a small opin-
ion of himself, and such being the case, I feared
he had not enjoyed his Western experiences
very much.
“Oh " said he, in answer to my questions,
“at the start it was awful. I walked up and
down in front of my first customer's door for
fully half an hour without the courage to go in,
and when I did get into the store I had n't a
word to say for myself and precious few for my
firm. How I did it I do n't know, but I managed
to make a small sale, so my first effort was not
an absolute failure; but the first two weeks
were terrific. I was n't going to let myself be
beaten, though, so I persevered, and take it all
in all, I have made a very successful trip.”
One little sentence of Charlie's stuck in my
head. “I was n't going to ſet myself be beaten,” he
said. Ah that was it. The boy who is de-
A TALK TO AWKWARD BOYS. 79
terred from doing anything by shyness lets him-
self be beaten. His shyness conquers him when
he should conquer the shyness.
One of our most noted humorous 1ecturers
Once asked Mr. Beecher what he should do to
overcome a certain nervous trembling which al-
ways attacked him whenever he faced an audi-
€11 Ce. -
“My boy,” said the wise old veteran, “I
do n't think that you will ever get over it; you
/had best not maind it.”
This habit of shyness, if nursed and yielded
to, may come to dominate a man's whole life,
and may so fetter his actions that half his native
powers may never be fully developed; but if
fought with it can be conquered and put down
and kept in its proper place. Sam did it when
he resolved that he would speak. Charlie did it
when he determined not to be beaten, and every
boy can do so if he will exert his own courage
and self-control.
A TALK TO A WKWARD BOYS.
THERE is a time in the life of many a lad
when during the course of a year, or perhaps
even a shorter period, he changes from a little
fellow into a big boy. It is marvellous how
fast he grows; before his friends know it he is
8O TALKS TO BOYS.
taller than his father. He has to have as many
new suits as a silk worm does to keep him look-
ing respectable, and in spite of every care there
is apt to be a gap between the bottoms of his
trousers and the tops of his shoes, and a wide
strip of wrist between his sleeves and his hands.
Sometimes they call this season the “awkward
age,” and a very hard time it often is to a lad;
many are the jokes that are cracked at his ex-
pense, and in Some families many are the sighs
and critical remarks which he hears about his
looks, his carriage or behavior, from friends
who ought to know better; while the poor boy
himself feels more than any one else can feel
that his feet and hands are more than he can
manage, and that when he sits down he seems
to have as many joints as a grasshopper, and he
always appears to himself to be ten times more
clumsy and awkward than he does to any one
else.
I number more than one such boy among
my friends, and the other day one of them was
telling me how queer and shy he felt, just like
dear Hans Andersen's ugly duckling—how he
never could bear to get into company because
he did not know what to do or to say; and one
would think, to hear the boy talk, that life under
the circumstances was scarcely worth living.
“Why, Herbert,” said I, “have a little pa-
A TALK TO AW KWARD BOYS. 8 I
tience with yourself; in time that tall frame of
yours will fill out and assume its proper propor-
tions and you will learn how to govern it; its
muscles will knit if you give them sufficient ex-
ercise. The lines of your face will change, and
by the time you are twenty-five years old you
will probably be a man of fine appearance, and,
if you will take the pains to cultivate them, of
easy and graceful manners.”
“But,” said the young Hopeless, “suppose I
should n't turn out as you think I will? Sup-
pose I keep on looking awkward and queer to
the end of the chapter?”
“Why, then,” said I still cheerfully, “listen
to this: I have a friend who when he was a lad
was certainly the most awkward and angular
boy that I ever saw. His face was plain to the
verge of ugliness; he stammered so badly that
it was only by speaking with the most painful
slowness and precision he was able to control
his speech so as to make himself understood,
and he had absolutely but two good points about
him: one was a nobly shaped head, and the other
was a gentle and agreeable tone of voice. In
spite of all of these drawbacks, he has not only
won a most enviable rank among the scientists
of this country, but he is distinguished for his
beautiful manners as well. He has learned to
behave SO charmingly, and with such uncon-
Talks To Boys. 6
82 TALKS TO BOYS.
sciousness of self, that people forget his looks
when they have been in his company ten min-
utes, and only notice the rare and noble attri-
butes of mind and character which he possesses.
As he grew older he learned to manage himself
better, and he became accustomed to his own
peculiarities, so to speak; for though they were
toned down somewhat as he reached manhood,
they never left him, but he bears with them so
pleasantly himself that to his friends they are
actually an added charm. He never alludes to
them in any way, excepting that I have heard
him make to strangers a winning little apology
for his manner of speech, which is still very
slow, though his utterance is easy. But though
his speech is slow, his thoughts are quick, and he
is always thoughtful for others. He has a beau-
tiful deference in his manners toward his elders,
no lady is ever near him that she does not feel
a sense of his quiet consideration for her, and all
children turn naturally to him for protection
and care; and his brilliant mind and beautiful
spirit together have so dignificq and ennobled
the body which they inhabit that every one
who knows him regards him with admiration,
respect, and affection. It is the finest example
of the triumph of mind over matter that I have
ever seen.”
A mere awkwardness is almost always out-
A TALK TO AW KWARD BOYS. 83
grown, or, if it does not entirely vanish with
maturity, it ceases to annoy unless its cause
springs from some physical defect which time
cannot cure. Some boys perhaps, who chance
to be reading this, may have the lot to go
through life halt or maimed, not equal physi-
cally in some way to their comrades. To such
I would say with great gentleness and sym-
pathy, be careful not to let any over-sensitives
ness keep you back or prevent you from taking
your share of work or play whenever you can ;
and cultivate steadily the habit of forgetting
yourself and entering heartily into the hopes
and pursuits of others. For it is a fact that a
physical peculiarity or defect, if its owner al-
lows it to trouble him, can mar or even ruin the
usefulness and happiness of a life; but if it is
bravely and cheerfully borne it never fails to
give a pepuliar nobility to the spirit of the one
who so takes it.
And not only that, but such a defect may
be overcome, and in spite of it one may do such
good and manly work in the world that those
who are in the perfect possession of all their fac-
ulties must pause in admiration of the man, who,
though so hindered, accomplishes such beautiful
results.
When the late William Fawcett, of England,
was a young man of eighteen, he was out shoot-
84 TALKS TO BOYS.
ing, and his eyesight was destroyed by the acci-
dental discharge of a gun which was in the
hands of his father. The agony of the poor
father when he found, after weeks of suspense,
that his dear son was hopelessly blind, was al-
most unendurable, and the brave boy to comfort
him said, “Father, do n't grieve so. I promise
you that this accident shall not ruin my life.
Everything that I had planned to do before it
happened I will accomplish still. You shall
see.”
As soon as he was able he returned to col-
1ege and took his degree. Then he came home
and practised vigorously all sorts of manly exer-
cises, even to riding horseback—a pastime in
which he delighted as 10ng as he lived. When
his not over firm health was fully restored he
began to consider what he could best do to help
his fellow-men ; he turned his attention to poli-
tics, and was elected to Parliament, and for
many years his name was identified with every
needed reform and with all legislation which
was for his country's good. Finally he was
made Postmaster-General of England, and he
filled that high office to the satisfaction of the
whole country, and when he died, a few years
since, England mourned him as one of her best
and bravest sons. And the man who did all this
was perfectly blind.
ON TEASING. 85
So, my boy to whom God has thought best
to send some similar affliction, never repine,
never despair; but remember that with God to
help you, and your own determined will, there
is no limit to the things which you may accom-
plish if you try.
ON TEASING.
IT seems to me that one of the most annoy-
ing traits of character which one can possess is a
disposition to tease, for when that disposition is
freely indulged there is nothing that can cause
more unhappiness to others. To be obliged to
spend one's life with an inveterate tease is like
1iving in a bramble bush, or suffering constantly
from the torture of innumerable pin-pricks. To
be sure, one pin-prick is nothing much, but when
one has to bear ten thousand of them it is quite
another matter.
“Pshaw!” says the tease, “I did not hurt
you any. I would n’t make such a fuss about
nothing. I did not mean anything. I was only
teasing.”
Exactly. And it is just because there is no
meaning in it nor necessity for it, because it is
“only teasing,” that poor tormented, insulted
human nature cries out sometimes in a passion
against it. It is astonishing what an unerring
5 *
86 TALKS TO BOYS.
ingenuity a born tease will show in choosing
his victim's weakest point and in sticking his
little pin straight into it. Is his victim timid,
quick-tempered, or has he some infirmity of
speech or peculiarity of person about which
he is sensitive 2 That is the very place which
the tease selects for his thrust; and a tease
never misses a chance. If he cannot find any-
thing else to annoy, he will tease an animal or
torment a little child, and he thinks it is fun;
but it is the most malicious, most dreadful, and
most dangerous fun in this world. I once knew
a lady who was literally almost frightened to
death by a miserable man who followed her
home through the twilight; she reached shelter
and dropped fainting upon the floor, and the
thoughtless fellow who occasioned the distress
explained that he “just followed her to tease
her, because he knew she was timid, and he did
it just for fun.” He found that it was not so
enjoyable as he waited while she hovered be-
tween 1ife and death, the victim of his wretched
joke. Fortunately for him and for the friends
who loved her, she recovered, but she never
entirely got over the effects of the nervous shock
which she endured at that time.
I think that a genuine tease is always a cow-
ard, for he never attacks his equals: his victims
are the helpless animal, the little child, the timid
ON TEASING. 87
woman. If you will notice, it is never the
smaller boy who teases the 1arger one. And
then a tease can never bear to be teased himself.
Nothing makes him angrier than to be paid
back in his own coin.
But really, the most distressing thing about
the whole matter is the effect which the habit
of teasing has upon the nature of the one who
indulges in it. A confirmed tease becomes pos-
itively heartless. He can look upon mental or
physical distress quite unmoved. Indeed, he is
not satisfied with the results of his teasing if he
does not cause one or the other. That is the
part he enjoys, and it is why he teases.
If there is a boy who reads these lines who
likes to tease his little sister until she runs in
tears to her mother, or who torments some little
fellow at school just to see him flush crimson
and bristle with impotent indignation—if you
want to make a man of yourself, stop it. For it
is a most ignoble and unmanly thing to take de-
light in causing pain to any living creature, espe-
cially if it is smaller and weaker than yourself.
88 TALKS TO BOYS.
ON BEING PLEASANT.
SAYS Mr. Thackeray about that nice boy
Clive Newcome, “I do n't know that Clive was
especially brilliant, but he was pleasant.”
Occasionally we meet people to whom it
seems to come natural to be pleasant; such are
as welcome wherever they go as flowers in May,
and the most charming thing about them is that
they help to make other people pleasant too.
Their pleasantness is contagious.
The other morning we were in the midst of
a three days' rain. The fire smoked, the dining-
room was chilly, and when we assembled for
breakfast, papa looked rather grim and mamma
tired, for the baby had been restless all night.
Polly was plainly inclined to fretfulness, and
Bridget was undeniably cross, when Jack came
in with the breakfast rolls from the baker's. He
had taken off his rubber coat and boots in the
entry, and he came in rosy and smiling.
“Here's the paper, sir,” said he to his father
with such a cheerful tone that his father's brow
relaxed, and he said, “Ah, Jack, thank you,”
quite pleasantly.
His mother looked up at him smiling, and he
just touched her cheek gently as he passed.
“The top of the morning to you, Pollywog,”
ON BEING PLEASANT. 89
he said to his little sister, and delivered the rolls
to Bridget with a “Here you are, Bridget.
Aren't you Sorry you did n't go to get them
yourself this beautiful day?”
He gave the fire a poke and opened a dam-
per. The smoke ceased, and presently the coals
began to glow, and five minutes after Jack came
in we had gathered around the table and were
eating our oatmeal as cheerily as possible. This
seems very simple in the telling, and Jack never
Rnew he had done anything at all, but he had in
fact changed the whole moral atmosphere of the
room and had started a gloomy day pleasantly
for five people.
“He is always so,” said his mother when I
spoke to her about it afterwards, “just so sunny
and kind and ready all the time. I suppose
there are more brilliant boys in the world than
mine, but none with a kinder heart or a sweeter
temper; I am sure of that.”
And I thought, “Why is n’t such a disposi-
tion worth cultivating? Isn't it one's duty to be
pleasant, just as well as to be honest or truthful,
or industrious or generous? And yet, while
there are a good many honest, truthful, indus-
trious, and generous souls in the world, and
people who are unselfish too after a fashion, a
person who is habitually pleasant is rather a
rarity. I suppose the reason is because it is
90 TALKS TO BOYS.
such hard work to act pleasant when one feels
CTOSS.
People whose dispositions are naturally irri-
table or unhappy think it is no use trying to
be otherwise; but that is a mistake. Any one
can be pleasant who wants to. If one will pa-
tiently and perseveringly try to keep always
pleasant, after a while one will get in the habit
of smiling instead of frowning, of looking bright
instead of surly, and of giving a kind word in-
stead of a cross one. And if some of the boys
who read this should chance to be of the kind
who only act pleasant when they feel like it, I
wish they would think of what I say, and try
and see if I am not right. And the beauty of
it is, as I said before, that pleasantness is catch-
ing, and before long they may find themselves
in the midst of a circle full of bright and happy
people, where every one is as good-natured and
contented as they are.
ON LAUGHING.
Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
SHAKESPEARE.
THERE is no more delightful sound on earth
than a hearty laugh. One good laugh will
ON LAUGHING. 91
brighten the whole day for the laugher and
cheer everybody within hearing. But every
1augh is not like that. Some laughs hurt instead
of helping, and their sting remains long after
the careless laugher has gone on his way and
forgotten what he was laughing at. - I think
this is what the Bible means when it gives the
Rindly warning that there is a time to laugh.
Some time since five of my boy friends
were appointed a committee to select the sub-
jects for the coming quarter for the young peo-
ple's prayer - meeting of their church. Four
of the boys were the sons of well-to-do pa-
rents. They had plenty of money and good
clothes, they were well bred, well educa-
ted, and altogether delightful young fellows.
The fifth was a lad who had been born and
brought up under very different circumstances.
Fatherless, motherless, uneducated, and poor, he
had struggled for existence from his babyhood,
but through all his troubles he had kept an
honest and cheerful heart. Naturally intelli-
gent, he was always learning, and all the boys
Of the Street Church liked and respected
Joe. On the appointed evening the committee
met at the house of one of the 1ads where I was
making a visit. They went into the library and
Held their meeting, and after an hour or so I
Heard them out in the hall having the last
92 TALKS TO BOYS.
words and giving cordial hand-shakes and good.
bys to Joe, who was obliged to leave early.
The hall door closed and there was an instant's
silence; then the four boys who were left came
leap-frogging across the hall and into the di-
ning-room where I was sitting, and dropping
on the floor around my sofa, they all went off
into peals of long-suppressed laughter. After a
while they managed to control themselves and
tell me the joke. It seemed that Joe had mis-
pronounced a word in a peculiarly funny man-
ner, and the way in which he applied it made it
sound supremely ridiculous to the fun-loving
lads who were listening; but not one of them
smiled in the slightest, or even moved a muscle,
lest Joe should notice and his feelings should be
hurt. They controlled themselves perfectly
until Joe had gone, and then nature was too
much for them and they laughed till they cried,
when it could do no harm. They never re-
peated the story to any of their mates, so that
Joe's feelings were carefully guarded in every
way, and he never knew that he had said any-
thing unusual or absurd. And I thought to my.
self that the Master whom those boys were
serving must have been well pleased at such
an instance of their thoughtfulness and self-
control.
Never laugh at a jest on a sacred subject
ON LAU GHING. 93
even though the temptation may be strong.
All such jesting is a species of profanity, and the
influence of every boy who is trying to do right
should be against it. -
There are a great many practical jokes which
do not deserve to be laughed at. Anything
which causes inconvenience or pain to another
is brutal and cannot by any possibility be
amusing.
Never laugh at a vulgar joke. But laugh at
a joke on yourself even if it is a little severe, for
it is the best cort of practice. Many people can
be very witty at other people's expense, who do
not like the laugh to be turned on them. It is a
good rule never to give a joke that you would
not like to take.
But of honest, wholesome, hearty laughter
this world can never have too much ; so culti-
vate a merry heart which is brave enough to
laugh at the little cares and annoyances of life,
and you will find every day plenty of things
both gay and sweet to gladden you. This is the
kind of heart which the Bible says “does good
like a medicine,” it is such a heart that Shake-
speare meant when he wrote the jolly little song
which I have put at the head of this article,
and it is the kind of heart which everybody
loves and always has loved since the world
began. And if you have such a heart you will
94 T.A. LKS TO BOY S.
brighten the “foot-path '' way of every one
whom you meet as you travel on 1ífe's journey.
MISSIONS FOR BOYS.
THE word mission comes from the old Latin
verb mitto, to send, so that a missionary is one
who is sent. In these days there are a great
many missions, both home and foreign, and
thousands of people are working in them,
preaching to and teaching and helping in many
different ways the poor, the lonely, the ignorant,
and the oppressed. But boys, as a general rule,
do not do very much missionary work. I do
not think this is their fault, however, for boys
have naturally just as much of a missionary
spirit as any one else. But the trouble is they
have not “been sent.” And boys can give such
valuable help if they will that I feel like “send-
ing " every boy I know and giving them a hint
or two as to how to begin ; and perhaps I can do
that best by telling how some of my boy friends
have been working recently. -
Not very 1ong ago, in a Consumptives' Home
which I sometimes visit, a boy of nineteen was
dying. Week by week life was slipping away
from him, and one by one all the bright hopes
of his youth and young manhood were departing.
He was a lad who had looked poverty in the
MISSIONS FOR BOYS. 95
face since he was a little child. He had never
known in all his life what it was to be thor-
oughly well clothed and fed. While but a child
he had been obliged to work, and his scanty
wages had always been cheerfully divided with
his mother and little sisters; and then, just as the
future began to grow brighter before him, the
effect of his long years of toil and privation was
made manifest and he was stricken with con-
sumption.
Friends procured for him a pleasant and
sunny room at the “Home,” where, surrounded
by every comfort, he was free and welcome to
remain as long as he lived. At first the peace
and quiet of his little room, the rest and free-
dom from anxiety, were all he craved. But
afterward, when the excellent nursing which he
reqeived and the nourishing food which he ate
began to tell upon his exhausted system, and he
began to revive, he missed his former busy life
and his old friends and companions desperately.
He missed their boyish talk, their fun and
laughter above all. This quiet, monotonous life
was something he was utterly unused to, and he
became very 1onely. The ladies who managed
the Home came often to see him, and he was
very grateful to them and learned to love them.
His mother and sisters came, sorrowful and anx-
ious, so their visits could not cheer him, and as
96 TALKS TO BOYS.
he said to his Sunday-school teacher, he wanted
“the boys.” So she told his old class about it,
and they agreed, as they expressed it, “to stand
by Frank as long as he lived.” So they went
to see him regularly every visiting day in turn
and spent every Sunday morning with him
besides. They were all working boys, and it
was sometimes a real sacrifice for them to spend
the scanty time they had for recreation with
Frank, but they never missed him once for
nearly a year. They soon discovered that Frank
did not care to talk about his sufferings, but that
he did like very much to know all about their
plans, their work and play, and all the details of
that dear every-day life which he had left for
ever behind him; so they talked to him about
what they were doing, and many a hearty laugh
rang out from Frank's room at the relation of
some droll anecdote or bit of nonsense from one
of the boys. On Sunday mornings they always
used to go over the Sunday-school 1esson to-
gether, and then they would read aloud from
Some good paper.
These boys kept, beside their regular envel-
1ope for Sunday collections, a horn which was
tipped with silver and which had this inscrip-
tion around its edge:
“Once I was the horn of an ox,
Now I am a missionary box.”
MTSS [ONS FOR BOYS. 97
And in this they used to take up collections for
whatever object they chose, and during Frank's
illness he had frequent presents which were
bought with this money. Rather amusing
were some of the purchases, too, and yet, as
Frank said, they each went to the spot.
Towards the last Frank could only see his
kind friends for a few minutes at a time; they
used to go in and sit quietly by his bed, and
when they left they would give his hand a
gentle clasp and say warmly, “Keep up your
courage, old boy,” or “Don’t give in : we fellows
remember you in class prayer-meeting every
time.” And so, helped and encouraged by his
friends, Frank passed through the dark valley,
brave and faithful to the last, and reached his
home in that happy country whose inhabitants
never say, “I am sick.”
I know another class of boys who are inter-
ested in a poor woman who has a sick husband
and six little daughters to provide for. These
boys are sons of parents in good circumstances,
and many are the glasses of Soda-water and
pounds of candy which they deny themselves
for the sake of “their little girls,” as they call
them ; and frequently on a Saturday before they
are out on their bicycles or off for a game of
some sort, one or another will go bounding up
the four flights of stairs which lead to the tene-
Talks To Boys. 7
98 TALKS TO BOYS.
ment where their protégées live, with a special
gift for a special little pet.
I know another set of boys who live in the
country, and they collect every season crates of
delicious fruit — grapes, apples, peaches, and
pears––and send them to the poor children in
the city. This deserves a story by itself, as I
well know, for I sometimes help to distribute
the gift, and I can never forget the look of the
eager little mouths which are reached up to
take it — mouths, sometimes, which have not
tasted one single bit of fresh fruit all during
the long hot summer.
My dear boys, I think I have told you enough
to give you a hint of how to begin being mis-
sionaries. You have only to look about you, and
you will find somebody to whom you can lend a
helping hand. But if you should fail to find an
opening for yourself, just go to your pastor or
teacher, and he will soon put you on the track
of somebody; and when you have once begun I
do n't think you will ever care to stop, for the
great beauty of all such work is that it ennobles
the nature of the one who helps as well as com-
forts and encourages the one who is in need, for
as Mr. Lowell so beautifully says,
“Who shares his bread with a beggar feeds three,
Himself, his suffering neighbor, and Me.”
Which is only another way of saying, “Inas-
ON BEING A GENTILEMAN. 99
much as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these ye have done it unto Me.”
And I trust there is not a single boy who
reads these words who would not run with
eagerness to do a kindness to his Lord and
Saviour.
ON BEING A GENTLEMAN.
WHAT is it to be a gentleman? If you ask
Mr. Webster, he will tell you that any man who
is well educated, polite, and civil ranks in this
country as a gentleman. But I think that to-
day most people acknowledge that it takes more
than that to make a gentleman.
“It takes blue blood,” says Charlie. I sup-
pose Charlie means by that expression that to
be a gentleman a man must come of a noble
and distinguished ancestry; but I have known
many a man who came of a noble race who was
not truly a gentleman. Though an honorable
ancestry is a thing to thank God for and to be
glad of, yet that in itself is not necessary to
make a gentleman, for a man may have been
born in a poorhouse and know nothing about
his father and mother, and yet be a gentleman.
Look a little deeper. What does the word “gen-
tle" mean? To be gentle, says Mr. Webster, is
never to be rough, harsh, or severe. So, then, a
I OO TALKS TO BOYS.
gentleman must have polite manners and never
be rough, harsh, or severe. But to be a thor-
Ough gentleman takes more than this.
A short time since an American visiting
London for the first time was invited to a re-
ception to meet a very distinguished company.
During the evening he found himself seated
beside a pleasant-looking gentleman; they en-
tered into conversation and the American told
his neighbor that he was from the United
States, and that it was his first evening out in
London.
“Indeed,” said the other, smiling. “And
how do you like us?”
“Oh,” was the hearty response, “I like you
all greatly. Everybody is very kind; but, to
tell you the truth, I think your titles very con-
fusing. I find that I am getting my dukes and
earls all mixed up, and I am afraid that I don't
address any one properly.”
His neighbor's eyes sparkled. “Ah,” said
he, “in America you do n’t have that trouble.”
“Oh, no,” was the answer. “There any man
is a gentleman who tells the truth and pays his
debts, and we are all plain Misters.”
The other 10oked amused, but just then a
gentleman came up, and bowing profoundly,
addressed the American's companion as “Your
Royal Highness,” and with a courteous smile
ON BEING A GENTLEMAN. f OI
and a bow, H. R. H. walked off, leaving Mr.
C anxiously considering the tone of his
previous remarks, and wondering if they had
been too free and easy for the ears of royalty.
But the American's idea of what constituted
a gentleman throws another light on the subs
ject. A gentleman must pay his debts and
speak the truth. He must verify the old prov-
erb that “a gentleman's word is as good as his
bond.” If he passes his word he must keep it
at any hazard, and every word he says must
come within the limit of absolute truth. And a
gentleman must 1jve within his income. True,
many a true gentleman has known poverty's
bitterest sting, and has seen his property melt
away from him like Snowflakes in spring-time,
leaving him positively penniless; then it is
right to take help from others, both for one's self
and for one's family. But such help is never
obtained under false pretences, and a true gen-
tleman, if he is ever able, will repay the donors.
So, then, a gentleman must be polite, gentle,
truthful, and honest. And if a boy wishes to
become a gentleman, and will rule his life by
those four words, he will succeed. But he will
find when he begins to try that those four
words, simple as they are, have deep meanings,
and it may not be always easy for him to put
them into daily practice. But if he wishes an
I O2 TALKS TO BOYS.
example by which to mould his life, I can point
him to one perfect model, Jesus Christ, who was,
as the poet truly says,
“The first of gentlemen.”
Never before or since have there been shown
in this world such beautiful manners as his, so
courteous, so friendly, and marked with such an
unfailing tact and kindness, whether they ad-
dressed the young, the middle-aged, or the old.
And was not He the very essence of gen-
tleness?—a gentleness which had no trace of
weakness in it, but rather one that was born of
conscious power and perfect self-control.
And who but He could say that He was
Truth itself P
And though He was born and lived and
died in poverty, yet no one of all his enemies,
and He had many, eager to find some flaw,
could point to the slightest stain on his integ-
rity and honor.
A lad who hopes to win this high ideal must
make up his mind to spend his life in trying;
but it will pay him, for he will find sooner or
later that in aiming to be a gentleman he is
only trying to make himself like Christ.
WILD OATS. IO3
WILD OATS.
“You will be sure to like him,” said Dick.
“Everybody does.”
Dick was speaking of one of his college
chums whom he was going to bring to call the
next day.
“What is his specialty P" I asked. “Does
he ‘go in ' for athletics or study or society P
Is he musical or dramatic P or is he noted for
anything in particular P”
“O no,” answered Dick, “Frank is not noted
for anything in special. Stop,” said he laughing,
“I am wrong. He is noted for having the best
rat-terrier in college: his name is Snap, and one
day,”——but the prowess of that particular little
dog does not belong to this story.
The next afternoon while we were a11 out on
the piazza Dick brought Frank over and intro-
duced him, and I did like him. I liked him at
first glance, he had such an active, well-knit,
graceful figure, such merry black eyes, and such
a fun-loving mouth. He sat down upon the piaz-
za step and began to talk as if he had known us
all his life; it was a pleasant, breezy sort of chat,
such as any one would like to listen to. There
were bits from the foot-ball field and the boat-
club in it; there was the last undergraduate joke
A
IO4 TALKS TO BOYS.
and a snatch of the latest college song hummed
in a very good tenor, and there were anecdotes
of Snap the valiant.
We learned to know Frank very well that
summer; he was always coming over to play
tennis with the girls, or to drink lemonade under
the copper beech, or to lounge in the hammock,
and he was always the merriest and best-natured
companion imaginable, but he was never any.
thing more. We found before long that his
father had chosen our quiet village for Frank's
summer home in order to keep him, as that
young man himself expressed it, “out of harm's
way.” .
One day he came in and seated himself in a
big Shaker chair near my work-table.
“What makes you look so serious?” he asked.
“Do you never feel a little serious P” was
my counter-question.
“Never,” he answered. “Time enough to
take life seriously when I am older.”
“Surely,' said I, “you must sometimes think
of the future, and of the life-work which lies be-
fore you.”
“Never,” said he again, as he lifted his ten-
nis cap, and added, smiling roguishly, “the
present is enough for me.”
“But,” said I, “I am going to make you be
serious for a little while. I am going to talk to
WILD OATS. IOS
you as if I were your aunt, or your grandmother,
or something.”
“Do,” said he cordially: “I am all ears; do n't
be afraid; say anything you like.”
“It seems to me,” said I slowly, “that you
are not getting all that you might out of your
college life.”
“Well,” he answered reflectively, “I do n't
Ánow any fellow who gets more pressure of fun
to the square inch than I do. What more can
you suggest ?”
“Do you never think of anything but fun?”
“Never.” -
“But are you not sometimes afraid of the
consequences?” I urged.
“Well,” he answered, sitting up, “I will just
tell you my plan. You know that at College
if we get a certain number of bad marks, we get
a private reprimand ; if we continue in the same
way, we get a public reprimand ; if we keep it up
after that, we are expelled. So at the beginning
of the year I ‘just sail in ' and use up all my bad
marks until I get my private reprimand, then I
have to sober down for the remainder of the
year; but last year I went a little too far and
got my public “rep,' too, and that was rather
dangerous. My father objected.”
“But,” said I, anxiously, “you do n’t do
things that are really wrong, do you?”
IO6 TALKS TO BOYS.
How he laughed. “What things do you call
‘really wrong,” grandmamma P" said he.
“Well,” I answered, hesitatingly, “gambling,
for instance. You do n't do that, I am sure.”
“Do n't I?” said he ; “I wish you would per-
suade my father of that. I will give you half
of my next winnings for your pet charity if you
will.”
I gave up in despair.
“Do n't fret about me, grandmamma,” said
Frank quickly, for he saw I was touched. “I’m
only sowing my wild Oats, and that is every young
fellow's privilege; by-and-by I will reform : ten
years from now I will be as steady as the town
pump, you see if I am not.”
I could only shake my head at the handsome
careless fellow and leave him to go his own
way.
He was never graduated from his college.
During the following year a wild escapade of his
came to the knowledge of the faculty, and he was
expelled. Then his father put him into business;
but he had formed no habits of thrift or of in-
dustry, and he did not succeed. Shortly after
that his father died, and Frank soon dissipated
his patrimony, and then he was thrown upon his
own resources, but he seemed unable to do any-
thing. Situations were procured for him only for
him to lose them, and in ten years, time no one
THE THOUGHTLESS BOY. 107
would have recognized in the shabby, idle, dis-
pirited man—willing to accept a favor from any
one, living on the charity of a few old friends—
the brilliant Frank of other years.
A short time after and the sad tragedy was
ended. He left no record of high achievement
or of any victory won. The world was no better
for his having lived in it, and at the end of the
finished story of his life we only write the one
sad word failure.
THE THOUGHTLESS BOY
THERE is a certain fault which many people
do not count as a fault at all—they speak of it as
“a defect,” “a blemish,” “a failing,” and yet that
little fault injures more characters, spoils more
lives, causes more unhappiness, than many
another sin which we think far more dreadful.
The fault of which I write is thoughtlessness,
and I think that boys are rather prone to that
Habit: but no matter how friendly, how bright,
Or how obliging a boy may be--no matter how
much he may mean to do right—if he is thought-
less, it spoils it all; for do n’t you see if you can-
not depend upon a boy's doing the right thing—
if he fails you just at the critical moment—of
what good are his good intentions? He may
come to you the next day with his face full of
IO8 TALKS TO BOYS.
honest grief. “I do n't think,” says he. “I'm
ever so sorry to have annoyed you So,” and you
know that he is sorry, for you count upon Jack's
good heart always. But Jack's regret does not
help matters at all.
“But,” says Jack, “I cannot help it—honestly
I cannot. Am I to blame for forgetting?”
“Yes, Jack, you are. You can exercise your
memory just as well as you can any muscle of
your body, and one will grow strong and service-
able with proper training just like the other.”
“But I have tried to remember,” says poor
Jack, “and I can't do it.”
“You have not tried hard enough,” I insist.
“You cannot break up that miserable habit in a
day, nor a week, nor a month, but in the course of
a year, if you set the whole force of your nature
against it, your friends will see a decided change
in you for the better.
“If you promise your mother that you will
be home promptly at three to do an errand for
her, be there at the minute, if you have to tie
strings around every one of your ten fingers to
make you remember your engagement.
“If you promise to buy a copy of the Tribune
for your Aunt Mary on your way to school and
bring it home to her when you come back, and
Harry Davison joins you as he did the other day
and you get SO engaged in chat that you walk
THE THOUGHTLESS BOY, IO9
five blocks beyond the news stand before you
think of the paper, leave Harry Davison and go
back and get it. You will have to run, and you
will probably be a little late at school, so that
you will have a mark for tardiness, for you will
have no proper excuse. Of course your Aunt
Mary would forgive you if you did not bring
iner the paper. True, you might buy her one
on your way home from school, if they were not
all sold, but do not rely upon any of these
ways out of the scrape; go back as fast as
you can and get the paper; if you are late a
school, take your tardy mark, for you deserve it :
but you will have kept your word as a gentle-
man should, and that is of great importance. If
you treat yourself with such severity as this
every time you forget anything, your memory
will learn to give you the right reminder at the
proper time.
“The trouble is, Jack, you do not think these
things are of sufficient importance. It seems
absurd to you to take all of that trouble for a
newspaper, and you know that your kind aunt
will accept any apology that you choose to make
Her. But it is not for your aunt's sake that I am
writing, nor for the sake of the paper—that is a
little thing; it is for the sake of your own char-
acter. It is that you may grow up to be a truth-
ful, reliable, trustworthy man.
I IO TALKS TO BOYS.
“‘Truthful!' you exclaim, and your color
rises at that.
“Well in one way I never knew a more truth-
ful boy than you are. I should rely upon your
account of any circumstance exactly. I know
you would relate it just as it occurred. But you
said you would mail that letter at once for me,
you know—and did you? Yes, after it had lain
all night in your breast-pocket. Of course it
was only a trifle, and you were sorry, and I ex-
cused you instantly: but the ideal gentleman
keeps his word in trifles, you know, as well as
in things which are more important. And as it
happened that letter was not exactly a trifle,
for the fact that it was not received when it
should have been, caused some anxiety.
“Indeed you and I never know what are the
trifles of this world, for sometimes the things
which appear most trivial to our short-sighted
eyes are really very serious matters; and the
only way for us to live is to do whatever comes
to us in the line of duty in the most thorough
manner possible ; then we shall be sure that no
trouble which could be helped will come either
to ourselves or to any one whom we love by our
thoughtlessness.”
A DANDY. I I I
A DANDY.
“I DO hope you will like Sam,” said Sam's
“best aunt" to me once, when I was going to
visit at his mother's house. “He is a very nice
boy, but he has such a rough husk that very few
care to penetrate it.”
Just before tea on the day I arrived at Sam's
mother's we were all in the sitting-room, Maud,
Isabel, Mrs. Jackson, and myself, when we heard
the front door slam. “It’s Sam,” said Maud,
and she glanced at Isabel, and then both looked
at their mother. Mrs. Jackson hastily arose and
went out and presently we heard her gentle
tones mingling with some that were rather
gruff. Soon we heard footsteps bounding up
the stairs, and Mrs. Jackson returned to the
room. In a moment the door opened again, and
his mother presented “My son Samuel.” He
was a tall fellow, nearly six feet in height, and
with a pair of good honest eyes I noticed at once.
He stooped a little in his shoulders, probably
the result of too rapid a growth, but instead of
walking up to me in a frank, friendly fashion
and greeting me as a gentleman should, he
shambled across the room and hesitatingly ex-
tended a hand whose nails would have been im-
proved by a brushing, and mumbled something
I I 2 TALKS TO BOYS.
by way of a greeting, whose purport I could not
understand. After this effort he slouched into
a chair and paid no attention to any one. When
we were called to tea, instead of escorting the
guest, he lounged along the passage behind us.
During tea I took the opportunity to observe
him well. His hair was brushed with a wet
brush across his forehead, but on the crown an
aspiring lock rose most conspicuously; his neck-
tie was crooked, his coat-collar was up in the
tack, and it looked in need of the brush. It
seemed to me very singular that this boy should
be so rude, when he had a good mother and two
nice sisters, genuine ladies all of them. They
began to talk with me about Sam a few days
after.
“You must not think,” said Mrs. Jackson
anxiously, “that Sam is really a slovenly boy.
He has plenty of baths and clean clothes and all
that, but he is so careless in his personal ap-
pearance and manners. I talk and talk, but all
I say seems to do no good whatever. I think,”
she added with a sigh, “that if his father had
lived he would have been different, for Dr.
Jackson was a perfect gentleman, but I do n't
know how to manage Sam, somehow. He is a
good boy,” she continued, “he has no bad habits,
and he has the best heart in the world. Last
winter, when I had that siege with pneumonia,
*
A DANDY. II.3
the nursed me devotedly, and he is as kind to
his sisters as possible. But his careless ways do
distress us greatly. I am hoping though,” con-
tinued the gentle lady, “that as he grows older
this bad habit will correct itself.”
It seemed to me a great pity that so many
fine qualities should be obscured like this, and I
thought that probably his mother had been too
gentle and indulgent with him and had spoiled
him a little. So I resolved that if I had a good
opportunity during my visit, I would let him
know how his appearance struck other people.
That afternoon I went to the barn with Sam
to see Childe Harold, his horse. Childe Harold
had belonged to Sam's father, who had been a
physician, and at his death he had left the horse
to Sam. Of course his mother and the girls
drove the horse whenever they chose, but he
was Sam's property, and his especial pet and
pride.
As we entered the beautiful creature's 10ose
box he came up to us instantly and made my
acquaintance in the most gentlemanly manner,
smelling daintily of my outstretched ungloved
palm, which is always considered a polite ac-
knowledgment of an introduction in the best
horse society. Then he accepted a lump of
sugar from me and in a moment Inore his pretty
lead was pressed against my cheek. Sam was
II.4 TALKS TO BOYS.
delighted, and so was I. Childe Harold was a
beautiful horse, and as he was perfectly groomed
from his velvet nose right down to his pretty
fetlocks, he was all over as shining and as soft
as silk.
“Who takes care of him, Sam P” I asked.
“I do,” he answered promptly. “I will not
let any one else touch him. I groom him,
feed him, and take care of the stable entirely
myself.”
“He is in beautiful order,” said I admiringly.
“He 's a regular dandy,” laughed Sam,
“that's certain. I believe he knows when he
is a bit dusty—he always acts kind of shame-
faced.”
I smiled. “I’m fond of dandies,” said I.
“I like a dandy horse,” said Sam.
“And I a dandy boy as well,” said I.
Sam's lip curled. “I despise them,” said
he. “Poor dudes they do n't dare do anything
for fear they will get their clothes spoiled.”
“Do n’t be too sure of that,” said I. “Do n't
you know what the Duke said about his dandy
regiment at Waterloo P”
“No,” said Sam.
“He said they fought well, and he gave them
the hardest post of all on that terrible day, just
because he was sure they would not fail him.”
Sam stood leaning against Childe Harold's
A DANIDY. II 5
shoulder. He had a little hayseed in his hair
and there was a Smudge on One cheek, and I re-
solved to treat him to a little lecture on the spot.
“I think,” said I, “that a boy ought to be
not only neat but orderly in his dress, for if his
hair is accurately parted and thoroughly brushed,
if his coat is put on straight and is well dusted,
if he has on a fresh necktie, nice clean linen,
and well blackened shoes, he will respect him-
self much more than he will if his toilet is only
half made ; and if he respects himself his man-
ners will be finer and more careful—they will
match his clothes. I believe in a boy's paying
attention to his looking-glass, and in always
dressing just as neatly as possible, for when a
boy has the dress and manners of a gentleman
it makes every manly quality shine the more. I
do n't care for diamonds in the rough ; I like
1mine to be artistically cut and polished always.”
“I know whom you are aiming at,” Observed
Master Sam calmly ; “but I'm not mad, and I
will spruce up so to-morrow that you will not
know me. How will that suit?”
“Well,” said I, laughing, “if you will groom
yourself as nicely as you do Childe Harold, I
will be perfectly satisfied. Surely it is worth
while to take as much time and pains with the
toilet of a boy as one does with the toilet of a
horse,”
I I6 TALKS TO BOYS.
“You are mistaken there,” answered Sam.
“If I should spend the same amount of time in
polishing myself that I do in polishing Childe
Harold, I would shine like Grandmother Pen-
fold's silver tea-pot all over.”
“Just you try it and See,” was my parting
advice as Sam left me at the door.
It is now some years since Sam and I had
that talk in the stable, and Sam has 1earned long
since the dress and manners of a gentleman.
The most recent event in his history was his
marriage, and a few evenings before that cere-
mony took place, he put on his wedding suit
and came down stairs to exhibit himself to his
mother and me.
“How do I look?” he inquired complacently,
as he drew himself up and squared his fine
shoulders in front of us in his immaculate linen,
glossy broadcloth, and shining boots.
“Like Grandmother Penfold's silver tea-pot
exactly, shining all over,” I answered mis-
chievously.
How Sam laughed ! “I remember that talk
in the stable perfectly,” said he. “It was good
advice, and it stuck, luckily for me, for I took
it to heart and practised it. If I had n't I would
never have won Bess, I am sure, for she is the
daintiest morsel who ever wore bronze slip-
pers,”
y
ON “GRIT.” 117
There came a warm light into his eyes as he
bent and kissed his mother's cheek, and then
went bounding up the stairs full of joy over the
happy days that were coming.
ON “ GRIT.”
NEW ENGLAND boys have a word which they
use when they wish to describe a nature which
is absolutely indomitable, and it is about the
highest praise which they can give to a comrade
when he puts out the last ounce of his strength
in the last spurt which wins the boat-race, or
comes out a fraction of a per cent. ahead of the
classmate with whom he has been racing in his
Latin or his Algebra all the year. When it is
over and the prize is won, his admiring friends
crowd around him and slap him on the should-
er and shake him by the hand and say to him
cordially, “Tell you what, old fellow, you've go?
grif,” and so he has ; and it is this magnificent
quality which sooner or later always wins the
prize. The grown people call it “indomitable
perseverance"; the boys call it grit, and I like
their word better than the others.
“But,” you say, “grit is not everything. A
boy has to have a very strong body if he does
much at athletics, and he has to have an excep-
II 8 TALKS TO BOYS.
tionally bright mind if he comes out ahead in-
tellectually.”
Think a minute. In any trial of strength
which is the most apt to win, the lad who is brim.
full of pluck and science, who knows just exactly
what to do and how to do it, or the big fellow
who has twice his muscle and only half as much
determination and knowledge P And as for
scholarship, every teacher knows that often it is
not the most brilliant boy who wins the prize;
it is the boy who studies the hardest.
Once I knew a lad who thought he had a
divine call to be a minister; he had plenty of
good common-sense, but he was dull at his books,
and some of his friends thought he was making
a mistake. They said that Tom would make an
excellent farmer or carpenter or blacksmith,
but that he was very poor timber to make a
minister of. Still, Tom felt that he must try.
So he went to college, and one of his tutors,
speaking of him, said, “He had the thickest
head I ever saw on any boy, and the most diffi-
cult to get an idea into ; but if once the idea
found an entrance, it stayed, it never deserted
him, and he was the hardest student that I ever
knew.” The result was that Tom graduated
with honors, for he studied so tremendously
hard that he more than made up for the slow-
ness of his mental action, and gradually, as his
ON “GRIT.” I IQ
mind was trained, it acted more rapidly, and he
turned out to be by no means a dull young man,
and he is now a minister—successful, happy, and
beloved by all his congregation.
This quality of grit is well worth cultivating.
Every one who has succeeded in this world has
had it; in fact it is the secret of success. Grant
had it when the Confederate generals said of
him that he did not know when he was beaten.
Morse had it when he would not give up the
electric telegraph, though he should spend every
penny he possessed and many long years over
it, and his friends should think him a “crack-
brained enthusiast.” Palissy had it when he
burned the very furniture of his home for fuel
whereby to feed the furnace which held the
precious vessels which he had glazed, and which
at last, after uncounted failures, came out per-
fect from the fire.
Now when this indomitable will becomes a
moral force, and is always thrown upon the side
of the “Power which makes for righteousness,”
what a splendid thing it is. The men who do
this are the great ones of the earth—the men
who help the world forward and make it better,
and nobler, and sweeter; for all who come with-
in the radius of their influence are inspired by
them and are helped to do their best.
So, my boy who reads this, if you wish to be-
I 20 TALKS TO BOYS.
come a noble, helpful man, cultivate this manly
trait. Never give up a purpose or an idea if
you are sure it is a right one. Never be daunted
by any obstacle or disheartened by any defeat.
Never mind how many times you fail—keep on
till you succeed. Believe in yourself and your
own powers and capacities. Be sure that you
can be what you wish, and do what you ought,
if you only try hard enough. Then when you
are a man you will find that things which are
very hard, or even perhaps impossible for other
men to accomplish, will be easy for you, be-
cause you have yourself in such perfect training
and under such complete self-control. And
people will believe in your capacity and trust
your sincerity, and they will be willing to
follow your leadership toward any righteous
cause which needs brave hearts or willing hands
to help it.
WHAT TO D0 ABOUT IT.
WHEN Bert dropped in to see me the other
afternoon he looked rather troubled, and after
a while he told me what was the matter.
“To tell you the truth,” said he, “there are
things going on in our school that I don't
like.”
WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. I 2 I
“What is the trouble P” said I, “tell me
about it.”
“You know what the academy is supposed
to be,” he answered. “Any fellow who goes
there is supposed to be all right; but somehow
this past year or two the tone of the school is
lowered. There is a great deal of cheating done
in One way or another about lessons. Lots of
boys copy each other's examples and exercises,
and So on. And that is not all, there is some-
thing worse still—-they are playing cards for
money there every day. Of course if the Doctor
knew it there are some boys who would be ex-
pelled at once ; for they are the ringleaders, and
it is they who are at the root of all the mischief.
Now, personally,” continued Bert, looking me
frankly in the face, “I am all right, I'm not in
any scrape you know ; but that is not enough for
me, for it seems as if I Ought to do something to
stop this nonsense if I can.”
I liked that in Bert, for if we are Christians, it
is not enough for us to merely keep ourselves in
the right track ; it is a Christian's business to
help others. So Bert and I began to consider
the subject.
“What do you think, Bert,” I asked, “since
matters have got to such a bad pass, of going to
the Doctor and telling him about it P Surely he
y 7
Ought to know.
1 22 TALKS TO BOYS.
Bert looked grave. “O, yes,” said he, “he
ought to know ; in fact he ought to know that
there is something wrong without being told,
but he does not seem to.” Bert paused awhile;
he was thinking. “But I could n't tell him,” he
resumed; “no fellow could. It isn't the square
thing, you know. If the Doctor asked me about
anything, I could not lie out of it, I would tell
the truth so far as I knew it ; but as for delib-
erately going to the Doctor and telling him—
that would be impossible.”
“Well,” said I, “I think you are right, Bert.
I do not believe in telling, myself, though some
very good people do not agree with me on that
subject.”
“That is because they don't know,” said Bert
with decision. “If they had been there' them-
selves they would think as we do.”
“Well,” said I, “could not the senior class be
induced to take hold 2 Are there not enough
honorable, right-minded boys among them to
cure the mischief ? Every time they know of
any lying or cheating or card-playing among
the younger boys, could n't they stop it?”
“Yes,” answered Bert, “I believe they could,
and they could do it without complaining to the
Doctor too. They could just take hold and shake
it out of those fellows, and nobody could say
there was anything mean about that.”
WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. 123
“And,” said I, “if they found that the mat-
ter was too bad for them to cope with unaided,
after a thorough investigation and a fair warn-
ing they could go to the Doctor in a body, and
lay the case before him, and he could deal out
justice, and dismiss the ringleaders if necessary.
You cannot let the academy government go to
smash for want of a little plain dealing.”
“The bother of it is,” said Bert, 1ooking
grave again, “I am not a Senior, and Of course
the seniors have nothing to do with us, nor we
with them.”
“O yes,” said I, “I know the etiquette. But
you are not the only honest boy in your class.
Talk to your chum about it and see if he does
not wish that things were different. Get as many
of your class as you can to say that they wish
these bad practices were put down. Get them
to sign their names to a paper, so that you may
be sure of them, then two or three of you take
this paper and go to one of the seniors and lay
the case before him. Choose your man carefully,
be sure he is an honorable, conscientious fellow,
a Christian if possible, and I think he will be
willing to help, for the honor of the old academy
is dear to most of her sons, I know. If the first
senior you speak to will not coöperate with you
try another, for there must surely be some one
who is willing to start the plan, and the others
124 TALKS TO BOYS.
will join when they find it is for the honor of the
school.”
“Well,” said Bert, as he arose to go, “I be-
lieve your plan is worth trying. I will see what
I can do. Thank you for telling me.”
And to other boys who may read this, and who
are in such trouble as Bert was, I will say that
I have seen the plan tried, and it has worked
with the happiest results. It takes courage to
start it, and patience and wisdom to carry it
through, yet it does solve one of the knottiest
problems that ever confronts a schoolboy's life.
-* Aº-
-sur-
ON PATRIOTISM.
ONCE when I was visiting at West Point I
was walking about the Post with one of the
cadets. It was a lovely June day. The air was
sweet with the odor of fresh cut grass on the
parade-ground, and plenty of soldier boys in
their shining white trousers, natty grey jackets
and neat helmets were strolling about, each with
a proud mother or sister or cousin at his side.
Everybody was happy, for the June examina-
tions were over and every one had passed safely,
even to “Little Texas,” who was, I suppose,
about as mischievous a lad as ever wore the
grey, and yet the pet of the whole Post in spite
ON PATRIOTISM. I 25
of his roguery. Even he had been pulled
through by the united efforts of his comrades,
and came out on the right side of his percenta-
ges by the very skin of his teeth, so there was
not one cloud on any heart, and everywhere one
caught snatches of gay talk and laughter as
the merry groups strolled by. My particular
laddie was as happy as the rest and I was as
proud of his six-feet-two of splendid young man-
hood as any one could well be. He had been
treating me to some of the sort of talk that I
enjoy very much from any boy, telling of his
life at the Point, describing the very hard study
and drill and the rigid discipline which make
the West Point boy the soldierly fellow that he
is, and telling too of the various “larks,” which
the average boy may be relied upon to provide
for himself under any circumstances. Thus
chatting we chanced to pass the flag, whose
beautiful folds rose and fell upon the breeze.
My companion raised his helmet as he glanced
up at it, and a deeper and more solemn feel-
ing looked for an instant from his honest
eyes.
“You do love it,” said I, “don’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered frankly, “next to my
nother.”
“I wish that every young man in the country
loved it as well as that,” said I, “but it seems
I 26 TALKS TO BOY S.
to me that nowadays the average young man
knows nothing of such a feeling.” -
“Nobody says anything about it to them,”
said Phil thoughtfully; “but we are taught to
love the flag from the first minute we reach the
Post. I think that makes the difference.”
I think Phil is right. The average boy of to-
day is not taught to love his country as he
should be. To-day patriotism slumbers. If an-
other war should break out it would undoubted-
ly awake, roused like a sleeping lion, and turn
against the foe. But people do not seem to
think that the country needs patriotic citizens
in time of peace as well as in time of war.
Not long since in a certain ward of a great
city which was dominated over by the liquor-
saloon, a few earnest souls endeavored to rouse
patriotic citizens to concerted action against this
and other evils, before the municipal elections.
Honest citizens were nominated who would
enforce existing laws and institute needed re-
forms. On election day there were thirty-two
thousand less votes cast than there were voters
registered. That meant that there were thirty-
two thousand men in that ward who did not
care enough about a freeman's privilege to take
the trouble to cast their votes. It meant also
that the powers of evil triumphed once more, for
every wicked man in that ward voted solidly
ON PATRIOTISM. 127
for the liquor interest, while the respectable
citizens stayed at home resting or perhaps
taking little excursions into the surrounding
country.
Such facts as these are enough to make even
a boy think, and every boy ought to think seri-
ously about such things. He Ought to make
himself familiar with the history of the United
States as it is revealed in the newspapers from
day to day. He ought to watch intelligently
the legislation not only of the country, but of
his own State and town or city as well. He
ought to have his views on the tariff, the liquor
question, the Sunday question, Socialism, monop-
olies, money, and every other subject which
affects the welfare of his country; and then
when he is old enough to vote he can exercise
that privilege intelligently, and nothing should
prevent him from so doing; for surely the least
he can do is to cast his vote for truth and right-
eousness and law and order, and if every con-
Scientious man did that, what a happy country
this would be,
This country of ours is, in the eyes of the Old
World, merely an experiment still. True it has
finished successfully its first century, but what
is that fragment of time to the hoary monar-
chies of Europe and Asia P. We have success-
fully grappled with some giant evils and have
I 28 TALKS TO BOYS.
slain them, but others are coming on, and wheth-
er we will arouse ourselves to meet and conquer
them is a question still. It depends upon the
boys of to-day to answer that. It is upon their
shoulders that the burden will fall, and they
are the ones to whom the fight is coming.
Probably they will not have to meet the foe
with powder and ball, or to die for the flag amid
the din of cannon and veiled in smoke, but it
will be no less serious business which they will
be engaged in, and it will require no less courage
and far more patience, if they are to win the
fight.
Therefore, my boys, never glance at the flag
without thinking of the meaning which clings
to its stars. Never forget what patriots have
dared for its sake. Remember that to-day that
flag stands for the symbol of hope and freedom
to millions of down-trodden men in the Old
World as well as in the New. And finally, re-
solve never to 1et it be sullied by any stain of
disgrace which you can prevent, while you have
a heart that beats in your bosom ; and so live
throughout your whole life that this dear country
of ours shall be better because you have been
born an American Citizen.
ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH CHRIST. I29
ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH
CHRIST.
I KNow that there are many boys who will
read this who do not yet know Christ who
would like to get acquainted with him, but in
spite of all they hear about him in church, in
Sunday-School, and prayer-meeting, they do not
know how to begin; for the things which are
said about him touch upon ideas which are
quite outside of their experience and which
seem very strange and unreal to them. What
is this “still small voice” which Christians speak
of which brings such happiness to hear? How
do Christians know Christ hears them when
they pray? How do they know He loves them,
and how can they love Him when they have
Inever seen Him? One has to be well ac-
quainted with Christ before one can under-
stand all this. You will have to be more than
an acquaintance, you will have to be a friend
of his, before you can experience such things.
And to become genuine friends with any one
takes time, you know. But fortunately for us,
it is very easy to win Christ's friendship, for He
is always ready and waiting and we have only
to do our part.
The first thing of all to do is to read the
Q
I 3O TALKS TO BOYS.
story of his life as we find it in the four Gospels,
not reading it piecemeal, a little bit at a time,
but reading it as if every chapter were a les-
son—as indeed it is—and you were bound to
get the meaning out of it. When you have
done this you will find that there are certain
things which Christ expects every friend of his
to do. One is to pray—not simply to say your
prayers, but to pray honestly from the heart.
Tell Him that you want to be a friend of his,
and ask Him to forgive your sins and make you
worthy. You will not hear anything, you will
not see anything; when you arise from your
knees the world will look the same as usual.
But nevertheless, if you have prayed that
prayer with an honest heart, it will surely be
answered. You will also find, if you want to be
friends with Christ, that he expects you to
make your life as nearly like his own as you
can. To do this there is just one little test
which you must apply to your actions every
hour in the day—it is to say to yourself, “Would
Christ like me to do this?” Jf you think he
would, go on and do it well. But if you think
he would not like it, then never do it.
And if you keep on steadily day by day
reading his Book, praying to him, and trying
to be like him, then surely some day, sooner or
later, you will feel his presence near you, and
ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH CHRIST. I 31
he will speak to you in that wonderful way of
his which one can know but can never describe;
and you will be ready from that moment to
drop everything and spring with joy to answer
when he calls.
Sometimes—I'm sure I do n’t know how—a
boy gets an idea that to become a Christian will
take all the fun and sparkle out of life.
“You have to be so awfully solemn,”
One of my boys to me once.
“Why, Jack,” said I, “what makes you think
that P”
“Oh, I do n’t know,” he answered, “but you
do.”
“Do you suppose,” said I, “that when Jesus
lived in this world he went about with a sad
face and a grave manner and only spoke in sol-
emn tones? No, indeed. If he had been 1ike
that, people would not always have been asking
him to dinner and to supper and trying to get
him to stay with them at night. He would not
have been a welcome guest at wedding-feasts
and happy gatherings like that. No. He was
cheerful himself and he loved to have every one
about him happy, and he was always trying to
make them so.”
Of any sort of honest, wholesome fun no
Christian boy need be afraid to take his share,
and he will be apt to have a better time than
y
said
I 32 TALKS TO BOY S.
any one else, for who will have so light a heart
as he P Only take care that no slightest hint of
ill-temper or unfairness on your part shall mar
any of your games and you can be sure that
your Best Friend is glad to have you happy, and
that you can serve him in your play as well as in
your work.
And if any boy who does not yet know Jesus
will try to get acquainted with him in the way
that I have told he will soon come to know Him,
and when he knows Him he will love Him, and
when once he loves Him he will be proud and
happy to be His friend and servant until the
day he dies.
ON HOW TO HAVE FUN.
AT first thought the average boy does not
seem to need much instruction on this subject.
He takes his fun wherever he can find it, as he
goes along, and he rarely misses an opportunity
to have a good time by the way. There is sound
philosophy in this method of living, and if grown
people would practise it oftener than they do
they would be the better and happier for it.
There are some boys, however, for whom it
would be a good thing if they would stop a little
and think about their fun in a reasonable way.
Because life ought not to be all fun. There are
ON HOW TO HAVE FUN. 133
a good many other things that a boy ought to
attend to as well as to having a good time.
Boys do not always realize that. Sometimes
they behave as if their one object in life were to
see how much fun they can get into their days.
Send them to school, and they slide out of every
lesson they possibly can and only learn what
they must. Put them to work and they shirk,
and will not work honestly and thoroughly, and
the spare time which they get in these dishon-
orable ways they devote to mischief—and they
call that fun.
The boy who lives on this plan will surely
come to grief, and it will be about the deepest
grief which can befall a boy. Only those who
have been through the experience know how
bitter it is. There is an excitement about being
the ringleader of your class in roguery at school,
I know. The pranks which you play are funny,
and you will find plenty of boys who will admire
you and cheer you on. But who are your friends
in the class? The fine, manly fellows who
stand near the head of the class, the ones who
know more of the lessons than you do and who
can play just as well in the games, the boys
whom every one likes and respects, or those
foolish, idle 1ads who keep down near the foot
of the class P By and by, when you get “forty
marks” and are sent to the Head Master, the
I34 TALKS TO BOYS.
glamour will fade away, and your foolish beha-
vior will not seem so amusing.
There is so much fun in the world that is not
good fun, and sometimes a boy does not discrim-
inate. He takes any fun he can get, and some-
times, alas, he prefers the fun that is not good.
Fun that is at the expense of another, fun that
teases, fun that is discourteous, cruel, and un-
kind, is not good fun at all, and it debases the
boy who indulges in it; to find amusement in
any vulgarity stains a boy's very soul.
I wish boys carried their religion into their
fun more than they do. It is an odd thing, but
a boy may do honest work, or be a thorough
student, and yet not be a right good playfellow.
He does not control his temper on the play-
ground and play fairly and pleasantly; he wants
more of an advantage than is his due, and sulks
if he cannot get it. The way a boy plays and
the kind of play he likes best are pretty thor-
ough tests of his character.
There is a good deal of talk in the news-
papers just now of the rudeness and brutality of
our schoolboys' favorite games, and it is true
that a game of football or of baseball may be a
fine contest of skill and courage and strength or
it may degenerate into a savage contest which
is a disgrace to civilized young manhood : it de-
pends on the boys themselves. I was watching
ON HOW TO HAVE FUN. I 35
a well-contested game of baseball some time
since between one of our large Brooklyn schools
and the Freshman team of a neighboring col-
lege. The Nines were well matched, the scores
at that minute stood even, and the excitement
ran high, when one of the opposing team, who
was running for a base, was hit by the ball. It
struck him squarely between the shoulders with
a thud that was heard all over the grand stand.
Perhaps some of you who read this know just
how it hurt. The poor fellow was bewildered
for a minute : he threw up his hands and
screamed like a girl. In an instant one of his
enemies had his arm around him, and before his
own friends could reach him our boys helped
him on with his jersey and got him to a seat,
while our captain ran over with kind inquiries.
The trouble was not serious, and presently the
lad was up and playing away as hard as ever.
“That was very courteous,” I remarked, well
pleased, to my escort.
“Why, of course our fellows would be kind,”
said he, with a little stare of surprise in his blue
eyes. “That Nine are our boys, you know.”
But one does not always see such behavior
in the field as this, and the only way you can be
sure of having it is by keeping the very spirit
of Christ in your heart whenever you take your
place behind the bat or line up for the struggle
136 TALKS TO BOYS.
in football. If you play as you know Christ
would like to have you play, and only like the
fun you are sure he would have enjoyed when
he was a boy, then your good times will be flaw-
less, and all your comrades will like to be on
your side wherever you may be.
ON MINDING, YOUR MANNERS.
“I was always taught to be civil,
In the civil old days gone by.”
MARY D. BRINE.
SEVENTY years ago, when my father was a
little boy, his mother's last injunction as he
started for school always was, “Now be sure
and mind your manners, my son.” And the lit-
tle lad, if he met any one upon the road, wheth-
er it was a stranger or a friend, used to draw
himself up by the wayside as straight and stiff
as a soldier and take off his cap with a bow; and
so did all the other boys. A boy in those days
never sat in the presence of his elders until he
was bidden to do so; he waited until he was
addressed before he joined in the conversation,
and he carefully added the old-fashioned “sir”
and “ma'am ” to his “yes” or “no " when he
answered a question. I fancy the boys of to-day
would find such restrictions rather hard to bear;
ON MINDING YOUR MANNERS. 137
but the results were fine, for the manners of the
old school were very stately and beautiful.
Now, though we would not expect any such
formal manners from a boy of to-day, yet it does
seem to me that the modern boy does not always
pay quite enough attention to his elders. He
seems to live in a world of his own. He has his
own thoughts, pursuits and interests, and it does
not occur to him that grown people would be
much interested in them. Yet it would often
be greatly to his advantage if he had an older
friend in whom he could confide, for the society
of those who are older and wiser than ourselves
helps to develop us as nothing else can.
When I said something like this to Jack,
once, he answered, “Well, I've often thought
that I should like to know some grown people
better, but they do n't give me a chance. Now
there 's our minister, Dr. Garrison—every one
knows what a splendid man he is. I’ve often
thought I should like to know him well enough
to talk to him about things, and I’ve been intro-
duced to him three or four times, but he does n’t
remember me at a11; mother has to tell him who
I am every time he calls, and he does n't know
me yet on the street.”
“But,” said I, “when you do meet the doc-
tor you merely say, ‘Yes, sir,’ and, ‘No, sir,’ in
answer to his questions. You show no more
138 TALKS TO BOYS.
individuality than an oyster; and how can he
remember you from time to time 2 Why do n’t
you talk a little with him sometimes and let
him find out what sort of a boy you are P”
“He does n't care anything about me,” ob-
jected Jack.
“He would,” said I, “if you would let him.”
Not long after this the doctor preached a ser-
mon which interested Jack very much and he
thought he would like to have it to read by him-
self, So he plucked up courage to ask the doctor
to allow him to take it home with him. “Cer-
tainly,” said the doctor, beaming upon him from
behind his glasses, “certainly, and perhaps you
will drop in some day this week and let me
know what points attract you most, and if you
found any particular difficulties.”
Jack, remembering my conversation, did
drop in as requested. They began conversation
with the sermon for a topic, and then in some
way–Jack never knew how—they got around to
green flies and red hackle and the best thing for
trout in April, and, as Jack afterwards remarked, -
they got very chummy together. After that
Jack had many a good chat with the minister,
and a genuine friendship grew up between them
which was of great service to the boy.
So, whenever you have the opportunity, I
would advise you to cultivate the friends of your
ON MINDING YOUR MANNERS. 139
father and mother. If, when you come home
from school, you find your mother sitting with
friends in the parlor, walk in and shake hands
and sit down and chat for a little while. Show
them a little courtesy as a son of the house, and
then you can excuse yourself and go off to your
fun with a good conscience. And if you meet
friends of your parents when you are away from
home, and they do not recognize you, or perhaps
do not chance to see you, do not be afraid to
walk up to them and introduce yourself. Say
simply and modestly, “I am Mrs. Randolph's
son Tom, and I know mother will be glad I have
met you.”
I will tell you a secret: there is nothing an
older person appreciates more than such little
attentions from the young, and the benefit
which they will be to you yourself is beyond
telling.
It would not hurt some boys to be a little
more courteous than they are to their own fa-
thers and mothers. Surely you should be as
quick to help your father on with his overcoat,
or to wheel up the easy chair for your mother,
as you would be if they were cherished guests.
Sometimes a boy seems to be actually ashamed
to try to cultivate a fine manner. He appears to
think that the rougher and blunter he is the
more manly he will be ; but that is a mistake,
140 TALKS TO BOYS.
for it is truly unmanly to be rude or discour-
teous, and it is well to know how to behave on
any occasion. An easy manner sets other people
at ease. This is where that neat little science
called Etiquette comes in. I would advise a boy
not to neglect it, for he will find it very con-
venient to know how to give and how to accept
an invitation, when to give a lady his arm, when
to offer his hand, and when to bow only. It
is pleasant to be able to give an introduction
easily, and what a comfort to know so well how
to behave at table that you do not have to think
about manners at all ! -
Manners are really the expression of the life.
Let me live in the same house with a boy for a
week, and notice how he behaves, and I will tell
you just what sort of a boy he is. The boy who
is kind and pleasant to his father and mother,
his brothers and sisters, the guest, the servants,
and even to the cat and the dog, is a manly boy.
An English writer, in a beautiful poem, rev-
erently speaks of Christ as “the first of gentle-
men,” and it is a true and beautiful characteriza-
tion of Him; and any boy who takes Christ as a
model and faithfully tries to be like him will be
sure of having a manner which will never fail
him under any circumstances, for courtesy will
become a part of his character.
ON USING YOUR BRAINS. I4 I
ON USING YOUR BRAINS.
AMONG all my boy friends the one who has
the keenest eye and the cleverest hand is a deaf-
mute; and he has also the soul of an artist.
“Ear-gate" is closed to him, and all his knowl-
edge must come through the medium of his
other senses; and he has made them serve him
very well indeed, for he is a more than com-
monly intelligent boy. In the school where he
has been educated he has been taught to talk,
and to read conversation as it falls from the lips
of others, so that it is quite easy to communi-
cate with him, though his English is sometimes
a little odd. This boy came dashing into our
house One Saturday morning; his face was radi-
ant, and he was a good deal out of breath.
“I have found a beautiful thing,” he cried.
“I have made haste. I have run to come and
tell you.”
“What is it P” I asked, full of interest.
His eyes were shining with delight. “I have
found out how to draw like Nature,” he said, and
he laughed for pure joy.
“I will show you,” he continued. He placed
two chairs at the table side by side, and thrust
me into one of them. Then he wheeled about
and took “Webster's Unabridged " from the
I42 TALKS TO BOYS.
shelf, and placing it on the table sat down be-
side me and hastily began to sketch.
In a very few minutes the drawing was done.
The angle of the book which was at the great-
est distance from him was drawn a little smaller
than those which were near, and the proportion
was perfectly preserved, a few lines of shading
were dashed in, and the 1ittle sketch was well-
nigh perfect; it stood out from the paper like a
solid thing. “See,” said he “that which is
farthest is a little smaller than that which is
near. When I sketch it so it looks natural. You
could pick it up; eh?” He laughed again, then
he sprang up and seized another object; this
happened to be a whisk-broom; he sketched it,
applying the same principle with the same hap-
py result. “So it is with the room,” he pro-
claimed joyously. “So with the house, so with
the road, so with all things. I have found it
and it is true.”
He had discovered and applied the law of
perspective entirely unaided by anyone. His
friends knew of his 10ve of art, and intended
that his talent should be cultivated, but it was
thought best that his general education should
be concluded first, and he acquiesced, but his
artistic instinct could not lie dormant. I found
upon questioning him that he had been at work
upon this problem during his spare hours for
ON USING Y () U R BRAINS. I43
many months. “I think, and think,” said he.
“I try and try; at last I find.”
I have heard it remarked occasionally—al-
ways, I have observed, by those who have not
had the advantage of an intimate acquaintance
with boys—that “boys are thoughtless crea-
tures.” The boys themselves know better than
this. The fact is, an average boy thinks more
in the course of a day than most people, for a
boy is a rapid thinker, and if he has no use for
a subject he drops it, so in the course of a day
he gets through with a good many ideas. The
trouble with a boy's thinking is that he has not
yet the wisdom of experience, and so he does not
always think to the best advantage. For in-
stance, while it is very good fun, and by no
means useless as a mental exercise, for a boy
to invent a new language or a new system of
shorthand, or to make his own electric battery
or run his own telegraph wire, yet he will find
it to his advantage in the future if he learns his
Algebra lesson first, for really the A1gebra is of
the greater importance, though it may not seem
to be so now. These lessons in school have a
practical value, and it is well worth a boy's
time to find out what that value is and how to
apply it while he has the opportunity.
When I heard the best grammarian of his
class calmly use a double negative in ordinary
I44 TALKS TO BOYS.
conversation not an hour after he had made his
recitation, I felt that he yet had something to
learn of the English language. And when the
boy in rhetoric announced that he “found a
penny walking over the bridge,” the statement
was more surprising than he realized at the
moment, and it showed that he, too, had some-
thing still to learn.
The boy who is satisfied when the answers
to his examples “come right,” though he cannot
tell why they are so accommodating, or the boy
who can rattle off a rule of grammar as fast as
he can Say
“Onery, enery, ickery, ann,
Filisy, folisy Nicholas John,”
and has no more idea of what one means than
the other—such boys are not worthy to be called
by the noble name of scholar, and it is a pity
they cannot resign their opportunities for learn-
ing to those who would value them more and
use them better.
But a boy uses his brains not only when he
is in School but during every hour when he is
awake, and since this is the case it is a good plan
to acquire the habit of using one's brains always
to advantage. You will find life far more inter-
esting if you do that way. The habit of obser-
vation, for instance, is a most delightful and
valuable one. The various phenomena of na-
USE Y () U R BRAIN S. I45
ture make a fascinating study. “Every boy his
own Scientist,” is a very good motto to take.
Notice things, watch them, see if they occur
twice in exactly the same way; find out, if you
can, why they occur. Take up a special subject
and follow it out as far as you can.
I knew a boy once who took up the subject
of rain. He measured the rain-fall of his sec-
tion of country for six months, and his measure-
ments were so accurate that they came within
a very small fraction of being the same as those
of the government. He knew the length of time
of every rain-fall during that six months, and of
course how many inches of water fell each time.
He knew from what point of the compass each
storm came, and whether the wind changed
during the rain ; he knew which were the most
destructive and which were the most beneficial
storms. He read up on storm centers, and the
little book in which he had garnered his statis-
tics was very interesting reading, while he had
acquired much information which was really
valuable.
I knew another boy who went into the coun-
try for the summer brim-full of curiosity about
all sorts of things, and one day he brought into
the house a pail full of water wherein a great
number of what country boys call “wigglers”
were disporting themselves. He thought that
IO
146 TALKS TO BOYS.
they were tadpoles, and he expected much pleas-
ure from watching their transformation into
frogs. They did not seem to grow very fast,
however, while each morning their number be-
came less and less and his room fuller and fuller
of mosquitoes, fine lusty fellows with good appe-
tites; but the problem to Jack was, What be-
came of his tadpoles P Did they eat each other,
or what? He hung over the pail for hours; at
last he caught one of the sly little creatures in
the very act of changing, not only his place of
residence, but his very form of life, and then
what a burst of wrath and astonishment over-
came this young observer ! He got an old lace
veil of his mother's and tied it over the pail, and
then he had them ; and what that boy did not
know about mosquitoes in the course of a few
weeks was not worth knowing. He got his tad-
poles later.
Then there is the habit of reading; an excel-
lent habit, truly, if you read good books and
remember and think about what you read. The
best book in the world will be quite powerless
to help you if you do not read it rightly.
Now is your training-time; now you are
learning how to become master of every power
that you possess; and if you are careless of your
opportunities now you will be less of a man
Some day than you might have been. But if
Y O U R O W N OP [NION. I47
you are like my brave Ethred, of whom I told
you in the beginning of this chapter, “to think
and think, and to try and try,” you will find just
when you most need it that you have the lever
of Archimedes in your hand; you will be able
to move things to Some purpose.
YOUR O WN OPINION.
THE subject of this talk was suggested by a
little chat which Jack had with his mother the
other day. He had been telling her of some-
thing which had occurred during the mid-winter
examinations, which were just past. Jack had
given his next neighbor three dates for his His-
tory paper.
“But, Jack,” said his mother, “was that hon-
orable P”
“Why, mother,” answered Jack, “all the fel-
1ows do it.”
“That's not the point,” she said gently; “do
you think it was right?”
“Harry would have thought I was awfully
mean if I had n't.”
“Would you have accepted such help ?”
Jack wiggled a little. “Well,” he admitted,
“Harry did give me one little hint in my Alge-
bra. Turn about is fair play.”
I48 TALKS TO BOYS.
“Of course,” said his mother, “Prof. Simpson
knew all about it.”
“Of course he did n't!" returned Jack a little
impatiently. “Mother, you do nºt understand.
A11's fair in 1ove and war, and this is war. The
professors are on one side and we are on the
other. They know how it is. If they catch us,
all right; but if we can beat them, why, we come
out ahead.”
“And do all the boys in your class act on that
principle?”
“Yes,” answered Jack, “I suppose they do;
at least I do n’t know any one who does not.”
“Now, Jack,” said his mother, looking at him
seriously, “I want you to forget about the other
boys, and their ideas, and I do n't want you to
think whether you like or dislike your masters;
but, judging by the standard which the Bible
gives, I want you to tell me whether you think
you have acted honestly.”
Jack was silent for a minute and then he
said slowly, “Well, no.”
Some time since I was talking with a young
man who was in business in New York, and he
told me this story. He was in the wholesale
nail trade, and the price of nails was so low
that the nail dealers were losing largely; it was
decided that something must be done, and all
the merchants agreed not to sell nails below a
YOUR OWN OPINION. I49
certain reasonable price, and were free to get
as much more than that as they could. The
head of the firm with which my young friend
was connected entered into the combination,
but gave private instructions to his clerks to
sell all the nails they could at a trifle less than
the price agreed upon. The consequence was
that while the other firms held to the agree-
ment faithfully, this man for some weeks sold
more nails than any other dealer in New York,
and he made a deal of money.
“But,” said I to the young man who told
me this narrative, and who laughed at the sharp
practice, “do you think that was right?”
“Well,” he answered uneasily, “ of course
it was not right in the abstract, but Mr. B––
made a lot of money, and one expects double-
dealing in business; it is an understood thing.
A man can't make money without it.”
“Do you know what you are saying P” said I.
“You are saying that there is no firm in New
York which is prospering that is making money
honestly.”
“Oh, I do n’t mean that,” said he, roused at
1ast, “but it is a fact that there are lots of de-
ceits practised in business.”
“And you,” said I, “were beginning to think
that perhaps it did not matter so much after
a11 !”
1 50 TALKS TO BOYS.
I once spent about two years in a town
where nearly all the young men were in the
habit of playing games of chance for money. I
was talking to one of them about it.
“Oh,” said he lightly, “all the fellows do it.
I would look queer if I did n't.”
“But do you think it is right?”
“It is my own money that I lose.”
“Whose is it that you win P You get some-
thing for nothing then, do n't you? Is that
honest? You know that some of the young
men in this town have been ruined by betting
and gambling; perhaps you have helped to do
it by playing with them ; at any rate, you have
had the experience of playing games for money.
You know the excitement of it and the tempta-
tion of it. Now, honestly, looking at it from
all sides, do you think it is right?”
He was an honest boy at heart; he flushed,
but he looked me in the eyes. “No,” said he,
“I do n't.”
It is much the easier way for a boy to think
as the other boys think, to accept their standard
of morals and to do as they do; but a boy will
surely come to grief if he allows himself to drift
like that.
The only way in which you can become a
strong and noble man is for you to think Over
every question of morals for yourself, being
ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. I5 ſ
quite uninfluenced by popular ideas, and never
giving a decisive regard to any considerations
of your own pleasure or profit; and then, when
you have formed your own opinion, abide by it,
careless of what any one may say. Take the
Bible for your standard, be governed by your
conscience, enlightened by that divine word
kindly given to be a light to our path, and you
wiſl never go far wrong, though you may some-
times find yourself standing with only the best
of your young associates around you. But never
mind that. Better stand for the right with Christ
loy your side than to be wrong with the whole
world for company.
ON BEING A CHRISTIAN,
WHEN a boy gets one good look at the
Saviour, and realizes something of what he is
and what he has done for us, it is not often that
that boy turns away and leaves him; for after
such a look one can hardly help loving Christ
and trying to serve him. But sometimes a
boy's idea of what constitutes a Christian life is
not very clear.
I asked one of my boys once how any one
could tell whether a boy was a Christian or not.
“Well,” answered Tom rather hesitatingly,
“if a fellow is a Christian he goes to church and
I 52 TALKS TO BOYS.
to Sunday-school and to prayer-meeting regu.
larly, and he reads his Bible and all that.”
“But,” said I, “I am sorry to say that I
have known some people who have done all
those things which you mention, and yet I did
not feel sure that they were true Christians. Is
there no other way in which you can tell? How
do you know that Will Barrett is a Christian,
for instance?”
“Why,” said Tom at once, “by the way he
acts. He is n’t the same fellow at a11.”
“Ah,” I responded, smiling, “now you have
explained it perfectly; he is n't the same fellow
at all.”
It is not any one thing which a boy does,
but a change occurs which penetrates his whole
life. That is what we mean when we say any
one has been “converted,” or has had a “change
of heart.” It is what the Bible means when it
speaks of being “born again,” or of “becoming a
new man in Christ Jesus.” The change is radi-
cal, and a boy who has been through that expe-
rience is not the same fellow at all that he was
before it happened. It is not only that he takes
a deeper interest in his church and all its ser-
vices than he ever did before, or that he reads
his Bible more faithfully or prays more ear-
nestly, but the change affects every action of
his daily life; it makes more thorough the way
ON BEING A CHRISTIAN, I 53
he works or studies or plays; it makes him
braver, gentler, pleasanter than he ever was be-
fore. But the change is shown most of all in
the way he fights and conquers his own beset-
ting sins. And when a boy's companions see
such a change as this coming over One of their
number they know beyond all doubting that he
has become a Christian, and such is the test
which a boy's friends always apply to him.
Once, not many years ago, a boy went to
college, and he was just the handsomest, wit-
tiest, pleasantest, and most “taking ” boy in his
class. He had plenty of money, everybody
1iked him, and he was sought after by all; but
ine made friends with the faster and more reck-
less set, and for two years he went dashing on,
and there was nothing too mad or too foolish
for Jack Sanborn and his friends to do. But in
One vice he was worse than all the rest: he was
exceedingly profane. The habit grew upon
Him until he swore without knowing it, and it
was second nature to him. -
One day he chanced to be sitting in his room
alone when some one came to him. He never
could tell how it was, but it seemed to him that
Christ was there—the Christ of Calvary. He
Inad heard the Bible read thousands of times,
indeed, he had been taught to read it and to
pray when he was a little boy; but it had all
I 54 TALKS TO BOYS.
been to him as an idle tale. But in that hour
Christ came to him and called him, and he
heard and answered, and forsook all and fol-
1owed Jesus as truly as did those fishermen
friends of Jesus so long ago by the Sea of Gali-
lee. His comrades noticed the change in him,
of course, and they watched him, half laugh-
ingly, half curiously, but very closely. He was
just as friendly as ever with them, but to their
wonder not one glass of wine would he touch,
not one bit of dissipation would he indulge in,
and strangest of all, not one profane word passed
his lips. For the rest he was much as usual—
better at his lessons a good deal, but happier
and more full of life than ever. He was deeply
interested in the inter-collegiate games, and he
was highly excited over a certain coming foot-
ball match which, according as it was won or
1ost, would be the glory or despair of the col-
legiate year.
“I will tell you what, fellows " said one of
his friends, “if Sanborn gets through this foot-
ball match without swearing I shall think his
change of heart is a genuine thing.”
When the decisive day came Jack drove a
party of friends to the game on his drag.
“It will be a dry lunch, fellows,” said he
when he invited them. “Nothing but Apolli.
naris water.”
ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. I55
But his friends knew very well that there
would be a delicious luncheon provided, and one
who voiced the sentiments of all remarked that
he “would rather go with Jack Sanborn and
Apollinaris water than with any other fellow
and champagne.” So they all accepted the in-
vitation, and they every one agreed to watch
closely and see if some time during the day Jack
did not forget himself and swear. But Jack
never dreamed that he was under such a close
surveillance.
The game was an exciting One, and Jack and
hundreds of others like him screamed and
shouted and cheered their favorites on. The
excitement became constantly more intense.
The team of Jack's college was losing ground.
Jack was half beside himself as he stood upon
the seat of his drag. Suddenly there was a sus-
picion of foul play on the other side, and that
roused Jack's blood to fever heat. His lips
opened with a hoarse cry, but no words came.
He clinched his teeth just in time. His shut
fists plunged into his coat pockets, a great vein
swelled out on his forehead, and he sat suddenly
down, gazing straight ahead, never Seeing that
struggling heap in the field which a minute
before had held his whole attention, for he
realized that he had very nearly disgraced his
Lord and Master. There was one instant's
I 56 TALKS TO BOYS.
prayer, an unspoken thought, and he was self-
controlled once more and turned his attention to
the game again. He never knew that his strug-
gle was noticed, but every one of his compan-
ions upon the drag had seen it, and they knew
better than any one else could know what an
effort it was for Jack to so control himself.
Not long after this there was a revival in
that college, and it began among Jack Sanborn's
set. The old president—a saintly man—was
filled with wonder, and called it a “marvellous
providence,” as indeed it was. Jack himself
never knew that he had anything to do with it,
but it is true that the sight of that noble resist-
ance of his to sharp temptation convinced all
who saw it of the reality of his religion, and
made them long to know for themselves this
Master whom he served so truly; and so in the
most natural way the beautiful influence spread,
until more than a hundred young men sought
that Saviour whom Jack had found and prom-
ised to love and serve him for ever.
And SO, my boys who are Christians, never,
never forget that it is by the common acts of
your daily life that you are going to be judged;
it is by them that you will stand or fall; it is by
them that you will influence others; and it is the
Smallest things sometimes that are the most
significant.
ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. I $7
I think that one of the best texts for a Chris-
tian boy to guide his life by was given by St.
Paul; for he was a man who understood boy-
nature very well, and boys just growing into
manhood were always very near his heart.
This is the text I speak of, and I will leave it
with you, making it the closing sentence of my
book :
“Therefore, wheſ/cr ye caf or drink, or w/aſso.
aver ye do, do all to the g/ory of God.”
NEW BOOKS
Published by the American Tract Society.
AT OPENING DOORS
By HOWE BENNING
12mo. Illustrated. 35 i pages. $1.25
“An excellent story-book for girls who want to build noble characters.
The 11eroine found her greatest pleasure in in proving her opportunities for
the betterinent of others.”—Presbyterian Journal.
“A helpful, bright, natural story, showing what good can be done by a
young girl fitting herself to her natural surroundings.”—Advocate.
“A charming story of Christian Endeavor life, illustrating how a
Christian life may be lived happily. The heroine is 11o story-book girl, but
a real, live young women, with all the difficulties to overcome that others
have, yet she makes her life a blessing to others. The book is well worth
reading, both for the story and the lessons to be learned from it.”—Christian
Unton Herald.
“From the first chapter, which introduces us to convention scenes, the
interest is kept up to the Lifting of the Mortgage' in the last chapter.
Young women desirous of being helpful to others will find in this story an
inspiration for the duties of the home and the community.”—National Ad—
vocate.
JºJº
A BONNIE BOY. A Story of Happy Days
By JULIA MacNAIR WRIGHT
12mo, Illustrated. 296 pages. $1.00
“Anything written by Julia MacNair Wright may be depended on to
be good, and this drawing story, that has its climax in a famous Christmas,
is no exception to the universal rule.”—Religious Herald.
“A bright story of a boy, who between the covers of this book grows
from four years old to twelve. The boy is just a boy—ſree, natural and
frolicsome. The story will delight every young boy who reads it.”—Evange/-
1st.
“A beautiful story of child life which every boy should read or have
read to him. It is both amusing and touching. Parents should also read
the book, for there are many useful hints on child training to be gathered
from the story.”—Christian Union Herald.
“The happy life of A Bon NIE Box is a recital which will be a delight to
child’sh hearts. Little Jack, Jr., is a very human child and an attractive
one as well.”— Presbyterian Banner.
‘‘The children will enjoy this book. The sayings and doings of a dear,
Inerry, bright and happy boy are recorded, and the little girls, too, will find
him an amusing little friend.”—Lutheran Observer.
American Tract Society
By the Author of -—-a-
.# ºf .2% ºf THE SILEN'T PRINCE
FATHER JEROME
A Story of the Spa rh is hºn I rh cluisitio rh
12mo. Illustrated. 293 pages. $1.00
“Spain’s cruelty and treachery to her American colonies
has called forth this book.
“It glows with thrilling and pathetic descriptions of the
heroism and trials of some of the noble men and women who
were 1martyred for the truth, and begets admiration for Father
Jerome and love and reverence for the religion of Christ.”
—AWałional Advocate.
“The Inquisition is the most infernal thing in all history.
It thrills every drop of our Protestant blood to read of the brave
deeds and awful sufferings of these heroic witnesses for the
truth.”—–Omaha Christian Advocate.
*.
“Mrs. Clark uses all the literary skill shown in her former
work, “Pro Christo,” in portraying the iniquities of the Spanish
Inquisition. In Father Jerome the portrayal is powerful and
makes one realize more fully the terrible experience through
which those passed who “kept the faith.” The love of excite-
ment which dominates every young heart may be gratified in
this book.”—The Presbyterian.
“We hope this story will be added to the home and Sunday-
school libraries. It is better than a mere story ; it is history,
and the foundation of truth always appeals to the young.”
—The AHerald and Presbyter.
American Tract Society
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