How happy are thy days! How sweet thy repose! How calm thy rest! Thou
slumberest upon the earth more soundly than many a miser and worldling
upon his bed of down. And the reason is--that thou hast a gracious God
and an easy conscience. A stranger to all care, thou awakest only to
resume thy play, or ask for food to satisfy thy hunger.
239
A full-blown rose besprinkled with the purest dew, is not so beautiful
as a child blushing beneath her parents' displeasure, and shedding tears
of sorrow for her fault.
240
A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a
child.
--_Longfellow._
241
He who does not correct his own child, will later beat his own breast.
242
The future destiny of the child is always the work of the mother.
--_Napoleon._
243
A child's eyes! Those clear wells of undefiled thought! What on earth
can be more beautiful! Full of hope, love, and curiosity, they meet your
own. In prayer, how earnest! In joy, how sparkling! In sympathy, how
tender!
--_Mrs. Norton._
244
These little shoes! How proud she was of these!
Can you forget how, sitting on your knees,
She used to prattle volubly, and raise
Her tiny feet to win your wondering praise?
--_William Canton._
245