II.
Tommy Woggs learned to obey while he was in school. That little stick produced a great change in him; but after the first week, Miss Dale did not have occasion to use it again.
He found that he must mind, and he had sense sufficient to see that it was just as easy to obey before he was whipped, or even scolded, as it was afterwards.
It was the next year after Tommy began to go to school that he went to New York. It was a great thing for a little boy like him to go away so far, and see so many wonderful things; and his companions, for a time, thought he was a real hero.
When he came back he told ever so many stories of what he had seen—of the fine buildings in New York, of the great crowds of people in Broadway, and the sights he saw at the Museum.
But the children soon grew tired of it, and did not want to hear any more of Tommy's stories. I think it quite likely that, if Tommy had not been so smart about it, they would have been glad to hear a great deal more about New York.
But I have another story to tell about Tommy; and I hope it will convince all my young readers that it is better to obey their parents, even if they are not punished, than it is to disregard what they tell them.
I have said that Tommy was proud and lazy. He was so proud he did not like to mind; and so lazy that he did not like to go to school, because he had to study there, and learn his lessons.
One fine morning in June, when the birds were singing on all the trees, and the grass looked bright and green on the hills, Tommy left his father's house to go to school.
He did not want to go to school that day. He told his mother it was too pleasant to be shut up in a school room all day, and he begged that he might be permitted to stay at home.
"No, Tommy, you must go to school. Your father says that you must not stay at home a single day, unless you are sick."
This was about an hour before school time, and the lazy boy sat on the door stone, for a while, and then came back and told his mother he did not feel very well.
"What ails you, Tommy?" asked his mother.
"I'm sick."
"Not very sick, I think."
"Yes, I am; real sick."
Just then his father came in, and heard his complaint.
"How long have you felt sick, Tommy?" asked his father.
"Ever since I got up," replied Tommy, placing his hand upon his stomach.
"You ate your breakfast very well for a sick boy."
"I feel worse since I ate my breakfast," said the little boy, trying very hard to look sick.
"What ails you?"
"I feel sick at the stomach."
"Well, I think you will feel better by and by," added Dr. Woggs.
"But I can't go to school, father."
"O, you can't?" said his father, with a smile.
"I don't feel able to go."
"Then you needn't go."
Tommy was much pleased to find he had gained his point; and he did not think of the wicked lies he had told. His father said he might stay away from school that day, and this was all he wanted.
He had a pair of rabbits in the wood shed, and without thinking that he was sick, he was going out to play with them.
"Where are you going, Tommy?" asked his father.
"Out in the wood shed to see my rabbits."
"I thought you were sick."
"So I am, father."
"Then sit down on the sofa, and I will attend to you in a moment. Do you feel very sick?"
"I'm real bad, father," replied Tommy, quickly, for he was afraid his father would send him to school, after all.
Dr. Woggs opened a drawer in his bookcase, and took out a little jar, filled with a kind of yellow powder. He then asked Mrs. Woggs to get him a little molasses in a cup, and a teaspoon.
Tommy turned pale then, for he knew all about that powder in the little jar.
"Now, my son, we will make you well by to-morrow, so that you will be able to go to school again," said Dr. Woggs, as he took the cover off the jar.
Tommy began to cry, for he would rather have taken a whipping than a dose of that nasty, yellow powder.
"What's the matter, Tommy? Do you feel worse?" asked his father.
"I don't want to take any of that stuff," whined the poor little invalid.
"I know, Tommy, it isn't pleasant to take; but when we are sick, we must take something to keep us from getting any worse."
"I don't want to take it, father. It always makes me a good deal sicker than I was before—it does indeed, father."
"That's very true, my boy; but, for all that, you must take it. We very often have to make folks worse before they can be any better. It always hurts to set a broken arm or leg; but no one would think of letting it remain unset because the operation is painful."
His mother soon came with the cup of molasses, and Dr. Woggs put some of the yellow powder into it, and stirred up the mixture.
"I don't want to take it, father," cried Tommy, who was trembling with dread at the very thought of the nasty stuff.
"I can't help it, my boy. You must take it," said the doctor, in such a tone that the poor boy felt he must obey, or confess that he had told a falsehood.
"I can't take it, father," he groaned.
"Poor boy! I know it is not good; but only think how sick you are! Why, you are so bad that you cannot go to school."
"I will go to school," whined Tommy.
"What! when you are sick?" asked his father. "O, no; you must not go to school when you are sick; it is a bad place for sick boys. Take the medicine, stay at home and get well."
"I will go to school," repeated Tommy, earnestly.
"Not when you are sick, my son."
"I'm not sick, father."
"Not sick!"
"No, father."
"Didn't you say only a few moments since that you were sick—real bad?"
"But I am much better now; and I think I am able to go to school."
"You may be sick again, my son."
"I shall not, father; I know I shall not."
"I think you had better take the medicine to prevent another attack."
"No, father; I wasn't sick at all," said the little boy, very sheepishly.
Dr. Woggs scolded him in a most severe manner for the falsehood he had uttered, and then sent him to school. He ought to have remembered this lesson. It was the last time that Tommy ever pretended he was sick, as that disgusting yellow powder frequently showed itself to his imagination.
I don't think it would answer for many parents to do as Tommy's father did; but he was a doctor, and understood the case.
