"Dear child, there are many people who think with you, but they forget that nearly every good thing under the sun has been abused, and that man has often turned God's best blessing into his worst curse. Work strengthens the body, invigorates the mind, enlivens the feelings, and gives zest to recreation, as long as it is confined within proper limits; when it goes beyond this and becomes a drudgery, the evils that you talk about ensue." "And what should we do," said Henry's father, "if there were no work done; no sailors to fetch far-off treasures, no herdsmen to take care of our flocks, no farmers to grow corn, no builders to build our houses, no—why I might make a longer catalogue than you would like to read Master Henry, about the good that work has done. The people of Palestine made a rule, and it was a very good rule, that everybody should learn a trade; high and low, rich and poor, wise and simple; and you recollect that the Apostle Paul says about the man who will not work, neither shall he eat; a rule, by the way, the bees observe, the thriving, bustling honey-bees, who tumble out the drones." "And you remember," said grandpa, "that Jesus was not ashamed to work; people called him not only the carpenter's son, but—what was it, Amy?" "The carpenter." "George was glad to be employed, for he would now be able to help his mother; but still it is not to be wondered at that he should shed a tear or two before he left his old home. He went to all his playmates and bid them good-bye. Then he went into the meadow and saw the cow to which he had carried so many bundles of hay. She was lying down on the grass with her soft eyes blinking in the sunshine. The little fellow went up to her and stroked her forehead. "'Poor cow,' said he; 'you and I have been old friends; you gave me milk many a year. And now I'm going away. I can't feed you any more, but my mother will take care of you.' "He took an affectionate leave of his mother, who kissed him tenderly and gave him much prudent advice. The poor child stood weeping on the threshold and listened to her words, then bidding her farewell, he brushed away his tears and trudged off like a hero. "After his departure his mother worked harder than ever, and lived more frugally than before. She seldom boiled anything for her dinner or supper, and the neighbors noticed that the smoke did not come out of the chimney as it was wont to do. She was anxious to lay by a little money in order that when George came home he might be able to enjoy himself. So she seldom took anything but bread and milk. But though she was frugal, she was not mean. Some people mistake niggardliness for domestic economy; the widow Margaret never did. She was still generous. She often gave her neighbors' children a bowl of milk, and if she saw the little ones eating dry bread, she would call them in and give them butter, and sometimes honey. But the good advice she used to give them was better than milk or honey.