KIND DEEDS.
On Friday afternoons Mr. Sinclair usually gave his pupils a very
pleasant hour just before closing. Of late he had been reading
aloud "Beautiful Joe," and all had been interested in the story of
the intelligent dog.
Tommy Dane listened intently to every word, and was quick to put
in practice every kind suggestion; while Master Sunshine smiled
his approval of the familiar tale, for his own copy of the book
was much thumbed from constant reading. He felt very happy to
think that so many boys who had pets were learning how to take
care of them properly. But he was quite as surprised as the rest
of the lads when, at the close of the reading that week, Mr.
Sinclair leaned over his desk and said, "Boys, I am not going to
read to you next Friday afternoon."
A little murmur of disappointment ran around the room. "Instead,"
he continued, smiling down at their troubled faces, "I want you to
entertain me. The book we have been reading teaches us kindness to
animals, and I should like to hear from each one of you of some
thoughtful act that has made the lives of the dependent creatures
about you a little happier."
"I know plenty of people who drive their horses too hard, and half
starve them into the bargain," interrupted one of the boys.
Mr. Sinclair raised his hand. "I am sorry to say that I know of a
few such people myself," he answered; "but we are not talking
about them now. There are many people who are kind to their
four-legged servants and pets, and I want you to learn by their
example. Each one is to tell in his own words of some kind deed
that he has a personal knowledge of, and after that we will see
what is to be done."
You can imagine how busy the boys were all that week. They asked
questions by the thousands of all their friends. They prowled
about barns and henneries and rabbit hutches until the people in
the village woke up to the idea that the boys of Hill-top school
were taking a lively interest in the welfare of all animals.
"Give my horses an extra ration of oats and rub them down well,
Jacob," said Banker Patterson, with a twinkle in his eye. "I
wouldn't like to be reported for cruelty to animals, and I notice
that young Tommy Dane and that yellow-headed Norton are eying my
turnout very curiously." Jacob chuckled over the joke, for he well
knew that the banker's horses were the best attended to in the
village.
"They say," said Jacob, "that Master Sunshine, as they call that
Norton boy, is at the bottom of the whole business;" and thereupon
he told the story to his employer of how the brave little fellow
had protected Billy Butler.
"A fine boy that and a promising one," said Mr. Patterson
cordially; "but surely," he added, with a slight frown, "he did
not tell you of it himself?"
"Not he," laughed Jacob; "but Tommy Dane has been full of it ever
since; and Almira Jane, the help over at the cottage, has told me
too. I guess it is owing to her good sense as much as anything
else that he's turned out so well."
And perhaps it was as well that Jacob did not see the merry
twinkle in the banker's eye at his words. It was surprising how
much Mr. Patterson knew of what went on in the village.
One thing was sure. None of the boys' pets suffered during that
week. They had never thought so much of them before; and presently
Friday afternoon came, and Mr. Sinclair, leaning back comfortably
in his chair, was asking for their stories.
He began with Master Sunshine, because he was the youngest of all;
and the little fellow explained how he had learned during the week
that heavy hens like his Cochin Chinas should be given low roosts
because it was such an effort for them to lift their unwieldy
bodies.
"Mine have all been made low now," he added eagerly; "and Almira
Jane says that it is a good common sense-ical idea."
They all smiled a little over the way he brought in Almira Jane's
name and her funny word. But they had come to have such respect
for the manly little fellow that no one laughed aloud.
Then Tommy told how Jacob had taught him to be kind to a pretty
colt which his father was bringing up.
"I always thought it was fun to play with it. I often teased it
just to make it kick out with its front feet," he said; "but I
know now that that sort of teasing, though it does not hurt the
colt at the time, teaches it the habit of kicking. A kicking horse
is almost worse than no horse at all."
"The thing I know about happened last winter," said his seat-mate.
"There was plenty of snow and ice about, but nothing for the birds
to drink; so my sister used to put a saucer of water on the
window-ledge each morning. The birds would come from a long way
off to get a sip from it, and they were always glad to pick up a
few crumbs she strewed for them."
"Mine is a bird story too," said an observant-looking boy; "but
the kindness was done by birds, instead of by people. Last week
when a bill-poster was pasting up some advertisements on our barn,
a sparrow perched on the edge of the bucket, and got his feet and
the tips of his wing-feathers all covered with paste."
"I meant to catch him and try to tame him, but the bill-poster
said to wait and see what happened next; and sure enough, two
other sparrows came and flew in circles above his head, and
chirped to him as if they were talking over what could be done. At
last he managed to loosen his claws from the paste, and to move
his wings ever so little. The birds, one on each side of him,
helped him to the trough by the side of the road, and he splashed
in the water until the paste was quite washed off."
"And what did this very curious sight make you think of?" said Mr.
Sinclair, suddenly leaning over his desk, and looking at the lad.
The boy colored deeply as he said, "It made me think of my string
of birds' eggs at home, and my collection of birds' nests. I
promised myself then that I would never, never do anything to
injure birds again. I thought that if they knew enough to be kind
to each other I ought to know enough to be kind to them."
It seemed as if there were no end to the good deeds of which the
lads had taken note.
One had seen an old man digging burdock-roots from the corner of a
sheep-field; and, when he offered his help, had learned how
troublesome the burdock-burrs were to all woolly or hairy animals.
Another had much to say of a lamb-creep that had been arranged so
as to give the young lambs a fair share of food. The older sheep
too often pushed the young ones aside when feeding-time came, and
their owner had built a little fold, into which only the small
lambs could enter, where a portion of the food was always placed.
All the lambs in his flock were plump and thriving, while in his
neighbor's pastures, where the lambs were left to fight for
themselves, they were thin, miserable-looking creatures.
Some told of how thoughtful people kept water always where the pet
dogs could get it; and others of the care that should be given to
canaries and to goldfish; and the happy hour was nearly over when
Mr. Norton said, "Now, Dick, you have told us nothing. Before we
break up school for to-day I would like to hear what you have to
say."
Dick shook his head but his teacher knew that he had been
listening intently to all that went on, and was very hopeful that
at last he had found a way to the heart of his scholar.
"Let me tell for him, please," interrupted Master Sunshine. "He's
been doing kind things all the week for poor Billy Butler. He dug
him a garden last Saturday night, and has filled it with plants
from his own garden."
"Ah!" said the teacher, well pleased at the report. "Dick, I think
you have done best of all;" and the boys thumped on the floor with
their heavy boots, and banged the covers of the desks, to show
their appreciation of the good deed.