“Oh, uncle,” murmured Alie, at length finding her voice, “we knew that you would be so dreadfully angry!”
“Humph!” said the sailor thoughtfully. “So the fear of me was a snare to you. Well, you may go after your brother, if he’s not run away so far that you cannot find him, and tell him that he may sneak back as soon as he can muster enough of courage, for not a word, good or bad, shall he hear from me about the bottle or the cat. And mind you, my honest little lass,” continued Jonas, “I’ll not forget the white kitten for you;—for though you’ve not a stout heart you’ve a brave conscience, and dare speak the truth even to a crabbed old sailor, who you knew would be ‘so dreadfully angry.’”
Alie flew off like a bird, her heart lightened of its load, and rejoicing in the consciousness that a painful duty had been performed. And whenever in future life she felt tempted to take a crooked course from the dread of some peril in the straight one, the timid girl found courage in remembering the verse which had struck her so much on that day—The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe.
The fear of God most high—
It is a holy fear;
It makes us pass through life as those
Who know their Judge is near.
The fear of sinful Man—
’Tis a debasing fear;
Shame will be theirs who dare not brave