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Classic and Famous Stories Preface Dear young friends (perhaps I may rather welcome some amongst you as old friends), I would once more gather you around me to listen to my simple stories. I have in each one endeavoured to exemplify some truth taught by the wise King Solomon, in the Book of Proverbs. Perhaps the holy words, which I trust that many of you have already learned to love, may be more forcibly imprinted on your minds, and you may apply them more to your own conduct, when you see them illustrated by tales describing such events as may happen to yourselves.
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PRECEPTS IN PRACTICE; OR, STORIES ILLUSTRATING THE PROVERBS.
Preface.
Contents.
List of Illustrations.
CHAPTER I. THE TWO SONS.
CHAPTER II. THE PRISONER RELEASED.
CHAPTER III. THE MOTHER’S RETURN.
CHAPTER IV. THE FRIEND IN NEED.
CHAPTER V. FORBIDDEN GROUND.
CHAPTER VI. CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE.
CHAPTER VII. THE GREAT PLAGUE.
CHAPTER VIII. THE GREEN VELVET DRESS.
CHAPTER IX. FALSE FRIENDS.
CHAPTER X. COURAGE AND CANDOUR.
CHAPTER XI. THE SAILOR’S RESOLVE.
CHAPTER XII. THE GIPSIES.
CHAPTER XIII. FRIENDS IN NEED.
CHAPTER XIV. THE OLD PAUPER.
CHAPTER XV. THE BEAUTIFUL VILLA.
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Dear young friends (perhaps I may rather welcome some amongst you as old friends), I would once more gather you around me to listen to my simple stories. I have in each one endeavoured to exemplify some truth taught by the wise King Solomon, in the Book of Proverbs. Perhaps the holy words, which I trust that many of you have already learned to love, may be more forcibly imprinted on your minds, and you may apply them more to your own conduct, when you see them illustrated by tales describing such events as may happen to yourselves.
May the Giver of all good gifts make the choice of Solomon also yours; may you, each and all, be endowed with that wisdom from on high which is more precious than rubies; and may you find, as you proceed onward to that better home to which Heavenly Wisdom would guide you, that her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.
It was a clear, cold morning in December. Not a cloud was in the sky, and the sun shone brightly, gilding the long icicles that hung from the eaves, and gleaming on the frozen surface of the lake, as though he would have melted them by his kindly smile. But the cold was too intense for that; there was no softening of the ice; no drop hung like a tear from the glittering icicles. Alas! that we should ever find in life hearts colder and harder still, that even kindness fails to melt!
Many persons were skating over the lake—sometimes darting forward with the swiftness of the wind, then making graceful curves to the right or the left, and forming strange figures on the ice. And there were many boys also enjoying themselves as much, although in a different way—sliding along the slippery surface, and making the air ring with their merry laughter.
THE FROZEN LAKE.
One of the gayest of these last was a rosy-cheeked boy, who looked as though care or sorrow had never traced a line on his face. He had just made a very long slide, and stood flushed with the exercise to watch his companions follow him on the glistening line, when Dr. Merton, a medical man, who was taking his morning walk, and had come to the lake to see the skating, lightly touched the boy on the shoulder.
“Paul Fane, is your mother better to-day?”
“Oh, she’s well enough—that’s to say, she’s always ailing,” replied the boy carelessly, still keeping his eye upon the sliders.
“Did she sleep better last night?”
“Oh, really, why I don’t exactly know. I’ve not seen her yet this morning.”
“Not seen her!” repeated Dr. Merton in surprise.
“Oh, sir, I knew that she’d be worrying me about my coming here upon the ice. She’s so fidgety and frightened—she treats one like a child, and is always fancying that there is danger when there is none;” and the boy turned down his lip with a contemptuous expression.
“I should say that you are in danger now,” said Dr. Merton, very gravely.
“How so? the ice is thick enough to roast an ox upon,” replied Paul, striking it with his heel.
“In danger of the anger of that great Being who hath said, Honour thy father and thy mother—in danger of much future pain and regret, when the time for obeying that command shall be lost to you for ever.”
Paul’s cheek grew redder at these words. He felt half inclined to make an insolent reply; but there was something in the doctor’s manner which awed even his proud and unruly spirit.
“Where is your brother Harry?” inquired Dr. Merton.
“Oh, I suppose at home,” replied Paul bluffly, glad of any change in the conversation; and still more glad was he when the gentleman turned away, and left him to pursue his amusement.
And where was Harry on that bright, cheerful morning, while his brother was enjoying himself upon the ice? In a little, dull, close room, with a peevish invalid, the sunshine mostly shut out by the dark blinds, while the sound of merry voices from without contrasted with the gloomy stillness within. Harry glided about with a quiet step, trimmed the fire, set on the kettle, prepared the gruel for his mother, and carried it gently to the side of her bed. He arranged the pillows comfortably for the sufferer, and tended her even as she had tended him in the days of his helpless infancy. The fretfulness of the sick woman never moved his patience. He remembered how often, when he was a babe, his cry had broken her rest and disturbed her comfort. How could he do enough for her who had given him life, and watched over him and loved him long, long before he had been able even to make the small return of a grateful look? Oh! what a holy thing is filial obedience! God commands it, God has blessed it, and He will bless it for ever. He that disobeys or neglects a parent is planting thorns for his own pillow, and they are thorns that shall one day pierce him even to the soul.