“Father! father! can I go a-nutting with Dick Rogers and Sam Roberts?”
shouted Frank Wilbur, as he bounded into the room where his father was
seated at a desk, busily engaged in sorting some papers.
“Softly, my son, softly!” replied Mr. Wilbur; “you will disturb your
mother, who is not very well, you know. Where do you wish to go?”
“Out in the woods, father. The frost has cracked the chestnut-burs, and
the nuts are rattling down so fast!”
“Have you heard them, Frank?” asked his father, smiling at his
eagerness.
“No, father, I have not heard them, because I have been at school; but
the boys say so, and I know they are. There was a real hard frost last
night. May I go, father?”
Mr. Wilbur drew his watch from his pocket, and looked at it
thoughtfully, as he replied,—
“You may go if you think it best, Frank; but I rather advise you not to
do so. There is but one hour of daylight left, and a large part of this
would be spent in going to and from the woods. You have had a good play
since you came from school; and now is the time to look over your
lessons for to-morrow.”
“Oh, no, father!” urged Frank. “This evening or to-morrow morning will
do for the lessons.”
“There is no time like the present, Frank. Better learn your lessons
now, and put off the nutting expedition until Saturday afternoon. That
will soon be here,—only day after to-morrow.”
But Frank felt unwilling to follow this advice; and, as his father gave
him leave to do as he pleased, he hastened to get a basket and join his
school-fellows.
“My father says there is no time like the present for learning my
lessons, and I think there is no time like the present for gathering
nuts,” he said to himself as he ran merrily along.
But Frank had forgotten another of his father’s mottoes, “Duty first,
and pleasure afterwards.”
It must be confessed that he was rather in the habit of delaying the
performance of duties until the last moment, although he had many times
experienced the bad results of so doing.
It was indeed a long walk to the chestnut-trees; and, after the boys had
entered the wood, it seemed much darker than it did before, and the nuts
were by no means “_rattling down_” very fast. The frost had opened the
burs a little, but the nuts were still safely enclosed in their prickly
nests.
“It is too late to get nuts to-night,” said Sam Roberts, the eldest of
the three boys, looking somewhat fearfully around him; for Sam was not
remarkable for his bravery.
“What are you afraid of?” asked Dick Rogers. “It will not be dark for a
long time yet, only the trees keep out the light; besides, there is
nothing to be afraid of in these woods,—neither lions, nor tigers, nor
bears, nor wolves. So help me find some good clubs, Frank, and we will
knock off some burs, at any rate.”
“And, if it grows too dark, we can carry them home, and get the nuts out
there,” said Frank, as he eagerly looked around for a club.
Sam felt somewhat re-assured by the courage of his companions; and all
three of the boys were soon busily employed in knocking the burs from
the trees.
It was quite dusk when they reached home. Frank found his supper ready
for him; and, after this was over, he spent an hour or two very
pleasantly in getting the nuts from the burs, and roasting some of them
in the kitchen fire. His sister Clara enjoyed this as much as he did;
and they were quite surprised when their father came to tell them that
it was half-past eight, and time for them to go to bed.
“Can we go into mother’s room and say good night?” asked the children;
for their mother had been ill for some weeks, and had not yet recovered
sufficiently to leave her room.
“Yes, if you will move gently,” replied Mr. Wilbur. “I think she is not
asleep.”
The children opened the door of their mother’s room very softly, and
peeped in. She was sitting in a large easy-chair, and smiled pleasantly
upon them as they entered.
“You have been very quiet this evening, my children,” she said. “How
have you amused yourselves?”
“We have been cracking chestnut-burs, and roasting some of the nuts,”
answered Frank. “I went to the woods after school, and got a fine lot of
burs; but the frost has not opened them very well yet.”
“I am glad that you got so many,” replied his mother. “And are your
lessons all prepared for to-morrow?”
“O mother!” exclaimed Frank, “I have forgotten them entirely! I promised
father to study them this evening. I am very sorry; but I will get up
very early in the morning, and study them before breakfast. Will that
do, mother?”
“It would do, Frank, if you could be sure that you would rise early, and
that nothing would take your attention from your lessons. But it is very
dangerous to delay the performance of any duty until the last moment.
Perhaps there is time to look over at least one lesson before you go to
bed.”
“I am pretty sleepy, mother,” replied Frank, yawning. “I do not think I
could understand the lessons. But I will be sure to get them in the
morning.”
“I hope nothing will prevent you, my son; and so now kiss me a
good-night, and go to your own room.”
“Will you come down stairs to-morrow, mother?” asked Clara, as she
affectionately twined her arms around her mother’s neck, and gave her a
good-night kiss.
“Yes, dear, if I feel pretty well I think I shall come down to
breakfast.”
The children clapped their hands with delight, and joyfully went to
their own rooms.
Frank’s sleeping-room was on the west side of the house, and it was not
very light there early in the morning. The clock was just striking when
Frank awoke the next morning.
“That’s right!” he exclaimed, “just six o’clock. I knew I should have
time to learn my lessons before breakfast.”
But, to Frank’s great astonishment, the clock gave another stroke after
he had counted six.
“It cannot be seven,” he said to himself. “It looks very early yet.
Perhaps I counted too fast.”
Frank thought it better to hurry to dress himself, however, and was soon
seated by the window, with his book in his hand.
But he had scarcely commenced studying when the breakfast-bell rung.
Frank knew then that it must be half-past seven; and he ran down stairs,
feeling a good deal mortified, and somewhat anxious as to how he should
get through his lessons.
He found his father already seated, with the large Bible open before
him; for morning worship always preceded breakfast. So Frank took his
place at once, only waiting to give his mother a smile and a kiss; for
he felt delighted to see her in her accustomed seat once more.
The family remained at the breakfast-table rather longer than usual,
because it seemed so pleasant to be all together again; but at length
Mr. Wilbur rose, and said he must go to his business.
“I am half an hour behind-hand this morning,” he added, smiling; “but,
as it is mother’s first appearance since her illness, I did not like to
be in haste.”
Frank cast his eyes toward the clock as his father spoke, and saw to his
dismay that it was half-past eight.
“Are your lessons prepared, Frank?” asked his mother rather anxiously,
as he sprang up in haste.
Frank felt ashamed to say that they were not, for he remembered how
positive he had been the evening before that nothing could prevent him
from learning them in the morning. But he was an honest boy, and told
the whole truth at once.
There was no help for it now, for it was time for him to go to school;
and so, with a heavy satchel of books upon his shoulder, and with a
heart almost as heavy as the books, Frank bade his mother good-morning,
and set off on his walk.
Mental arithmetic was the first lesson. It was always a difficult one
for Frank; and, as might have been expected, he failed entirely in the
recitation, and was obliged to leave the class and retire to his seat.
This was but the beginning of troubles. The mortification of being sent
from the class in arithmetic quite unfitted him for learning his other
lessons well. His next recitation was very imperfect; his sums were all
marked “_wrong_;” his writing was blotted, and looked very badly; in
short, it was a day of misfortunes. He was not allowed to leave the room
at recess, and was also detained nearly an hour after school to recite
the lessons which he had failed to learn through the day.
It was with a sad countenance that he appeared in his mother’s room on
his return home.
“Where is Clara?” he asked, observing the absence of his sister.
“Gone to town with your father, my son,” was the reply.
There was a large town near the village where Mr. Wilbur resided, and
the children thought it a great privilege to be allowed to accompany
their father when business obliged him to go there.
“Gone to town, mother!” echoed Frank. “Are they going to see the
menagerie?”
“I believe they are, Frank.”
“O mother! mother! why could not I have gone with them?” And, quite
overcome by the disappointment and the previous disasters of the day,
the poor boy burst into tears, and hid his face in his hands.
His mother pitied him very much; and, moving her chair nearer to him,
placed her hand gently and soothingly upon his head.
Frank was comforted by this, and gradually ceased his sobs, and, seating
himself at his mother’s feet, laid his head in her lap.
“Your father waited more than half an hour after the usual time of your
return from school, my son. He could not wait longer, as it would have
made it too late for him to attend to his business. Why did you not come
home sooner?”
“I could not, mother. I was kept after school because I did not know my
lessons,” answered Frank, sadly.
“And why did you not know them, Frank? Were you idle?”
“No, mother, I was not idle; I really tried to learn them, but somehow
they would not stay in my mind. I think it was all because I did not
know my first lesson this morning; and that made me feel so sorry and
ashamed that I could not get the next one; and then I was sorry again,
and could not get the third; and so on. One lesson knocked the other
down,” continued Frank, smiling a little, “just as one card-house knocks
the other, when I build the row of tents.”
His mother smiled also at this comparison, for she was glad to have
Frank feel cheerful again.
“And why did you not know your first lesson?” she asked. “We must find
out what gave the first blow to your tents; for, if we know the cause of
the evil, we can perhaps find a remedy for the future.”
“The first lesson is in mental arithmetic, mother, and the boys are
expected to learn it at home. I got up too late to study it this
morning; and so, of course, I did not know it.”
“But yesterday afternoon was the time to study it, Frank. An hour before
tea is the rule. Your school closes at three, and this leaves you time
for a good play until half-past five; then you should study till
half-past six.”
“But I went to the woods for nuts, mother. I wish father had not given
me leave to go.”
“Your father likes to leave you in freedom sometimes,” replied his
mother. “He wishes you to observe and feel the consequences of your own
actions.”
“Well, I have felt the consequences this time, and they are bad enough,”
said Frank, sighing. “You do not know how much I want to go to the
menagerie, mother.”
“I know you want to go very much, and I feel much grieved at your
disappointment, Frank; but the misfortunes of the day may be a useful
lesson to you through your whole life, if you will try to profit by
them.”
“I will, mother. I am resolved to act up to father’s motto in
future,—‘There is no time like the present.’ You will see that all my
duties will be done in proper time.”
“I hope so, my son. A habit of promptness, in the performance of even
the most trifling duties, will be invaluable to you through life.”
“For a good beginning, mother,” continued Frank, “I will learn my lesson
for the morning now, before Clara comes home, and then I shall be at
leisure to talk to her.”
“I shall be glad to have you do so, Frank. And now I will tell you that
your father intends going to town again on Saturday, and, if you are a
good boy, will then take you to the menagerie.”
Frank’s face grew bright with pleasure.
“I am very glad!” he exclaimed. “But why did you not tell me before,
mother?”
“I thought it better not to do so, my son. And now get your book, and I
will explain the lesson to you.”
Frank obeyed; and the next half-hour was a pleasant one, although the
dreaded arithmetic was in his hand.
* * * * *
Our young readers will wish to know whether Frank kept his resolution of
never delaying the performance of duties; and if they will pass over
with us the lapse of some six or seven years, and take another peep at
him as a young man of seventeen, they will, we think, be able to answer
the question to their own satisfaction.
Frank was now the only earthly protector of his mother and sister, for
Mr. Wilbur had been removed to the spiritual world about two years
before. He had left but little property; and Mrs. Wilbur found it better
to leave her pleasant home in the village, and hire rooms in the town to
which Frank and Clara used to love to go when they were children. Frank
was very desirous to earn something to aid in their support; and his
mother at length found a good situation for him in a large
shipping-store. His salary was small, however; and Mrs. Wilbur and Clara
were obliged to take fine sewing to do, and, even with this assistance,
found it difficult to maintain themselves comfortably.
“To-morrow I shall be seventeen, mother!” suddenly exclaimed Frank, as
he sat thoughtfully gazing into the fire one evening after his return
from the store.
“Yes, my son,” answered his mother. “You are almost a man.”
“And I ought to be able to take care of you and Clara, mother. My salary
is too small. I know that my services are worth more than Mr. Lewiston
pays me.
“That may be, Frank; but he gives you as much as it is customary to
allow boys of your age. I do not know that we ought to expect him to do
more.”
“I cannot bear to have you and Clara work so constantly, mother. I am
the one to work.”