Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Conscience -- Juvenile fiction
Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines.
CONSCIENCE
BY
MRS. FOLLEN
Illustrated with engravings.
CONTENTS
CONSCIENCE
"IT IS ONLY A TRIFLE."
CONSCIENCE.
The short wintry days were beginning to lengthen, the sun rose
earlier and staid up longer. Now and then a bluebird was heard
twittering a welcome to the coming spring. As for the robins, they
were as pert and busy as usual. The little streams were beginning to
find their way out of their icy prison slowly and with trembling, as
if they feared old winter might take a step and catch them, and
pinch them all up again.
Frank and Harry were sorry to see their snow man growing smaller and
smaller every day; from being a large, portly gentleman, he was
shrunk into a thin, shabby, ugly-looking fellow. His strong arms
were about falling to the ground; his fat nose had entirely
disappeared, and his mouth had grown so big that you might look down
his great throat, and see the place where one of the boys used to go
in to make his snowship talk. Frank and Harry loved all their winter
amusements, and were loath to give up skating, sliding, and
coasting, and above all, snowballing. Yet the boys enjoyed the
lengthening twilight---the hour their mother devoted to them.
"Will you please to give me two cents, Mother?" said Frank, one day.
"For what?"
"To buy a piece of chalk."
"And two for me, Mother," said Harry, "for I want a piece as well as
Frank."
"What are you both going to do with chalk?" asked their mother. They
were silent. She asked again, but they made no reply. "I cannot give
you the money till you tell me what you want of the chalk. Why are
you not willing that I should know?"
The boys continued silent for a short time, and then Frank said, "I
am afraid that, if you know what we are going to do with the chalk,
you will not let us have the money."
"Then," replied their mother, "you think what you want to do is
wrong. I, perhaps, ought to insist upon your telling me what you
want of the chalk. I love to give you every innocent pleasure, and
what is right for you to do I think I may know about. However, if
you will assure me it is for nothing wrong that you want the chalk,
I will ask no more questions, and give you the money."
"We do not mean to do any great harm with it," said Harry. "Still I
am afraid you will not quite like to have us do it, mothers are so
much more particular than boys, you know."
"Try and see if we disagree about this matter," said their mother.
"Shall I tell?" said Harry to Frank.
"Yes," he replied. "It is no such dreadful affair. Let's tell mother
all about it. You know, she said the other day that she remembered
when she was a boy."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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