A wonderful book called "Silas Marner" tells of a young man who stole
the money that old Silas had gathered and kept under the boards of his
cottage floor.
For many years no one ever knew where it went.
It nearly broke the heart of Silas, only in hunting for it he found the
golden curls of a little child who helped to save him and make a good
man of him.
Near by was an old pit, full of water, and some years later in draining
off the water, they found a skeleton with a bag of gold beside him. It
was the bones of the young fellow who stole it, and who had fallen in,
years before, and been drowned.
But there at last, it was all seen, and his dishonesty was published to
the whole district.
And dishonesty does come out, and even if the dishonest act is never
known in itself, it comes out in the life that has lost its truth and
beauty and grown mean and unworthy, so that nobody believes in it.
It leaves a bad black stain wherever any one is dishonest.
Therefore, dear girls and boys, be honest.
"Be true, little laddie, be true,
From your cap to the toe of your shoe."
*XVIII*
*"LIMPY LATE"*
There are some people who are like a cow's tail--they are always behind.
They go to bed late and they get up late. They go to school late and to
church. The only thing they are never late for is their meals, and if
their mothers were like them their meals would be late too.
You sometimes read in the papers of "the late Mr. So and So," which
means they are dead and are no longer Mr. So and So that used to be.
But there are some who do not have to wait till they die to be called
"the late Johnny" and "the late Mary." They come strolling along after
everything is started.
I taught school once, and had a scholar who came in any old time. He
was a most trying sort of a boy. He always missed his lessons, and I
did not know what to do with him. He loitered on the way and was
absent-minded; and spoiled his class; and took up my time, for I always
had to say a thing all over again for him.
One day I saw him coming and met him at the door with a very big welcome
and offered to shake hands, and told him how glad we all were to see
him; and he was so ashamed he cried and was never late again. He did
not want any more such greetings.
Even big people are like that.
If a Committee meets, they come in when it is partly through and waste
everybody's time by asking what was done, and it has to be said all over
again, and is very hard on one's temper.
They are not often late for a party, or for anything that is going to
give them fun, but for real earnest things, they are never early.
They are like the Irishman who came panting to the station just in time
to see the train moving away up the yard, and cried out, "Hie, there!
There's a man aboard left behind!"--And girls and boys, if you practice
the habit of being late, you'll be left behind too, and life's train
will go off without you.
It's a very bad habit. It makes you slovenly. It puts ragged edges in
your work. Nothing is ever done. You are always trying to catch up.
You knock everybody's plans in pieces. It makes a nuisance of you; for
who wants girls and boys who are always running up when they should be
running ahead?
It puts a limp into you, and you stay at the tail-end instead of being
what every bright smart girl and boy ought to be--up in the van, right
at the front.
You don't want to be a tail-ender, I am sure--a kind of
"might-have-been."