A great many times did David wish he was a great man, so that he could take care of his mother, and his little brother and sisters. He thought if he was, he would earn lots of money. Then he would not let his mother sit up so late nights to close shoes. It was of no use to wish he was a man, for he was only a little boy. The next best thing he could do was to help her all he could; and Mrs. White had no reason to find fault with him, for he did all he was able, and was willing to do a great deal more. Still he could not help thinking what a fine thing it would be to earn money for his mother. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do something. Those who are willing to help themselves are almost always sure to find some one who is willing to help them. If we try to do well, there are plenty of friends who will do all they can for us. David’s mother used to let him go to the river to catch fish, but she always told him, when he was going, to be very careful not to fall into the water. He used to mind what she said, for he knew how sad she would feel if he should be drowned, as John Piper had been only the year before. He felt that it was his duty to take care of his mother when he got big enough. If he should be lost, what would become of her, when she was too old to work? He had a fish-pole and line that had been his father’s, and with these he used to catch pouts, perch, and shiners; and once he had caught a great pickerel. These fish were all good to eat, and when David had caught a mess of them, he felt that he had done something to feed the family. One day he wanted to go a fishing, and like a good boy, he asked his mother. The baby was asleep, and Arthur and Susan were building a house in the sand before the cottage; and so she told him he might. David took down his fish-pole, got a little basket from the wood-shed, and started for the river. He felt just as though he wanted to do some great thing. He wanted to catch something better than perch and shiners. So he took a big stick, and when he came to the river, he walked till he heard a “chug”--which is the noise that a bull-frog makes. Then he stopped, and pretty soon he saw the green head of a frog sticking out of the water. Froggy looked at him slyly, as though he knew what he meant to do. As David crept up to him, Froggy gave another “chug,” and darted into the water, hiding himself under a lily-pad that grew near the shore. David could not find him; so he walked along till he saw another. He was more careful, and I don’t think Froggy heard him this time. “You just sit still half a second more,” said he to himself, “and I’ll have you. You need not wink at me; I want one of your hind legs for bait.” As soon as he got near enough, he raised the big stick, and brought it down upon the head of poor Froggy. It was a hard blow, and the frog was killed by it.