"Be prompt, boys and girls," Mr. Willard had said as he dismissed the Sabbath-school. "Do not come hurrying along at the last minute. Our trip next Wednesday is one of our lessons, and it will teach punctuality in rather a severe manner if one of you stands sorrowfully peeping through that big gate at us, while we glide off down the river. It will certainly spoil your pleasure and ours too if you are too late." Not a boy who heard him thought that talk was meant for him. "'I' shall be in time," they told themselves; "of course I shall." Elmer and Will had each a great fault. Elmer's was procrastination. He was always saying, "Wait a minute," "There's plenty of time," or "I'll do it by and by." Because of this habit, he was never known to be in time anywhere. His father had given him a watch at Christmas to see if that would not help him to improve, but it did not; he went on saying, "Time enough." Everybody had to wait for him. When the rest of the family were ready for church, he would rush through the house like a hurricane, pulling and panting, up-stairs and down, calling out: "Oh, dear! Can't somebody help me? Won't Mary black my boots? Do come and fix on my collar! Has anybody seen my lesson paper?" And so the whole house would run here and there, waiting upon one who had dawdled away the whole morning. [Illustration: THE BOAT STEAMED DOWN THE RIVER.] Will's fault was different. He had no mind of his own. He was always ruled by the person he happened to be with, and never could say "No" to anybody, no matter what his judgment or his conscience told him. He was uneasy now, and thought they ought to go that minute, but he played on, though he did say: "It's time to go, I know it is; the gates will be shut." "No, they won't be shut either," Elmer said, drawing out his watch; "it's exactly ten minutes before they close. We can finish this game in five, and have plenty of time." Watches do not always do their duty, any more than boys. Elmer's was five minutes slow—it must have caught the disease from him. The game went on. Will was going to win, he thought, and both boys grew excited over it; finally they fell into a slight dispute. And—what was that? The steamboat bell! Clang! Ding, dong! Both boys scrambled up their marbles and rushed to the gate. It was shut! They shouted for the gate-keeper; he was nowhere in sight. They cried to the captain, "Wait! Wait!" But the clanging of the bell was their only answer. Then the call "All aboard!" The plank was drawn in, and the boat steamed down the river, the song of the children floating back on the breeze. Sure enough! There they were, looking sorrowfully through the gate, just as Mr. Willard had said. "It was all your fault," Will said. Then he turned and ran away as fast as he could lest Elmer should see him crying.