Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY]
THE
CHEST OF TOOLS.
BY
AUNT HATTIE
_[MADELINE LESLIE]_
AUTHOR OF THE "BROOKSIDE SERIES," ETC.
—————————
_"The lip of truth shall be established forever, but a lying tongue_
_is but for a moment."—SOLOMON._
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CHICAGO:
HENRY A. SUMNER & COMPANY.
1880.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by
REV. A. R. BAKER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of
Massachusetts.
AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY
for her Little Friends.
[Illustration]
SERIES II.
VOL. I. THE APPLE BOYS.
VOL. II. LITTLE MISS FRET.
VOL. III. THE FACTORY BOY.
VOL. IV. FRANKIE'S DOG TONY.
VOL. V. THE GOLDEN RULE.
VOL. VI. LYING JIM.
To
NELLIE, ROLAND COTTON, ANNIE, AND FULLER APPLETON,
CHILDREN OF MY BELOVED NEPHEW,
THE REV. JOHN COTTON SMITH, D.D.,
THESE SMALL VOLUMES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED,
WITH THE EARNEST PRAYER
THAT THEIR LIVES MAY PROVE THEM TO BE LAMBS IN THE FOLD
OF THE GREAT AND GOOD
_Shepherd of Israel._
CONTENTS.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I. THE CUT FINGERS
CHAPTER II. HENRY'S LIE
CHAPTER III. THE LIE FOUND OUT
CHAPTER IV. ANOTHER LIE
CHAPTER V. THE BROKEN KNIFE
CHAPTER VI. SEARCH FOR THE LIAR
CHAPTER VII. THE UNHAPPY LIAR
CHAPTER VIII. THE LIAR REFORMED
CHAPTER IX. CONCLUSION
THE CHEST OF TOOLS.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
THE CUT FINGERS.
MR. DRAKE was at work upon his carpenter's bench when he heard an angry
scream; and then a shriek of distress from two boys, who were at play
in the lower part of the shop.
One of the boys was his son Henry, the other, his nephew Ernest Monroe.
He waited a moment to see whether the cry would be continued, when he
was startled by hearing Henry exclaim,—
"O father! Come, come quick! Ernest has cut himself dreadfully."
The children were standing before an open tool chest, which Mr. Drake
had often forbidden them to meddle with. In the midst of his fright,
his anger was excited that they had dared to disobey him, and he called
out, in a harsh voice,—
"Boys, how came my tool chest open? Which of you presumed to unlock it?"
Henry and Ernest were both silent. Henry dared not confess the truth,
and his cousin, even if he had wished to tell tales, was at that moment
too faint to speak. Indeed, just before his uncle reached him, he fell
prostrate among the shavings that covered the floor.
"Why! Why! What does this mean?" exclaimed the carpenter, now seriously
alarmed.
Then seeing the pool of blood, which had streamed from Ernest's poor,
cut fingers, he caught up the child, and stepping over a low wall which
separated his own from his sister's grounds, soon laid him pale and
unconscious on his own bed.
"We must have the doctor here as soon as we can get him," he said, in
an excited tone, "or Ernest's hand will be useless. Henry, what are you
gaping round here for? Why, you ought to be half way to the doctor's!"
Mrs. Monroe trembled from head to foot; but, rallying very soon, she
proceeded to make an examination of the wound. Though covered with
blood, it was easy to see that three fingers of the right hand were cut
to the bone; besides a bad gash in the palm.
She washed off the blood as well as she could, and then held the
fingers in place, keeping them warm within her own, till the physician
arrived.
The cut was so deep, the doctor found it necessary to take a few
stitches in each finger, and then, having bandaged them, he gave the
boy a soothing powder, and left, promising to call the next day.
All this time his uncle sat by, his face growing hard and stern. As
soon as he perceived that Ernest could speak, he began,—
"Now I want to know how this happened. Who has dared to unlock my tool
chest against my positive orders?"
"Stop, brother," said Mrs. Monroe, firmly, at the same time interposing
herself between the carpenter and his nephew. "Ernest is too weak now
to talk. When he is better, I will ask him all about it."
"But, Jane, it's a pretty business if I can't lock up my tool chest
without the risk of having a lot of careless boys meddling with my
things. There's my new adze I saw lying on the floor and covered with
blood. I dare say it's spoiled, and—"
"John, you heard the doctor say Ernest must be quiet. If you will talk,
come in here."
The boy heard a few loud, angry words from his uncle, and then the door
was shut.
"Try to go to sleep," said his mother, bending over him and softly
kissing his cheek.
"Yes, ma'am," faltered the boy; "but I do wish Henry would tell his
father the truth."
"Would it make you feel easier, to tell me about it, now?"
Ernest sighed. "I did naughty, mother; but I didn't unlock Uncle John's
tool chest. I began to play with the tools, though. The new adze was
as sharp as a razor, Henry said; and so we tried cutting a hair with
it. Henry did it twice, and then it was my turn; but he liked the fun,
and wouldn't let me have it; so I tried to snatch it away, and I cut my
fingers."
"I'm very sorry, indeed, my dear boy. But did Henry unlock the chest?"
"That was another naughty thing, I did, mother; I promised not to tell
anybody. You know I tell you most everything; but this time I forgot."
"Well, Ernest, it is a sad affair; but we wont talk any more about it
this morning. You'll feel stronger after you've had a nap."
She drew down the curtain at the foot of his bed, and, leaving the door
ajar, went back to her morning work. Twice she crept to the bedroom,
and peeped through the crack, and at last, finding him to be asleep,
shut the door and left him.