DEAN’s Illustrated Farthing Books. EVERY-DAY HEROISM. LONDON: DEAN & SON, 11, Ludgate Hill. 48 EVERY-DAY HEROISM. [Illustration] “I will not try any more. Everything goes wrong to-day,” exclaimed Charley Morris, throwing down his slate in a pet. “Nothing succeeds that I try to do. Everything turns out just the wrong way.” “I want you to run and get me the book,” said his mother, “which I left on the seat at the farther end of the garden; then afterwards we will see if anything can be done to coax events into a better humour.” Charley returned with his face a little brighter from a moment’s exercise in the fresh air, and seated himself at his mother’s feet. “Do you believe in unlucky days, mother?” said he. “I do not believe they come very often,” said Mrs. Morris. “But how can you help their coming, mother?” “Treat them in such a way when they occur that they will not return very soon. But now I want you to tell me what has made this day ‘unlucky,’ and then perhaps I can tell you what to do about it.” “Well, you see, mother, I overslept myself this morning, and was late at breakfast. That put me out. Then Agnes laughed at me for being so late, and that made me cross.” [Illustration] “Stop a moment, my dear, and notice where your ‘unlucky day’ began. The trifling error in being late in rising cannot excuse the greater fault of ill-temper. A single act of self control might have altered the course of the whole day.” “Then, mother, I went to school feeling just as cross; I thought I had all my lessons perfectly; but when I got to school, I found I had learned the wrong spelling-lesson, and that provoked me a little more, but I set to work to learn the right one. While in the midst of that, the arithmetic class was called. I had studied the lesson thoroughly last night, but somehow the spelling, or being provoked, or something else, had put it all out of my head, so that I missed ever so many questions: and, to end it all, I have got twelve extra examples to work out at home. I cannot do them; it is no use trying to do anything on such days.” There was a pause of a few moments, and then his mother said: “Charley, you like to read the histories of great soldiers and heroes of old times, such as Alexander, and Cæsar, and Napoleon?” “Yes, mother, very much.” “Well, tell me, when do you like Alexander best--feasting at Babylon--or in action, commanding his army, attacking the enemy, and gaining victories?” “I like him best in action, mother, of course.” “True, we like bravery better than cowardice. When do you like best to read of Napoleon--imprisoned at St. Helena, or at the beginning of his course with difficulties around him, but rising above them all by his strength of will?” “Oh, I like him best in the beginning, mother,” said Charley, with kindled enthusiasm.