“Stop a moment, my dear, and notice where your ‘unlucky day’ began. The trifling error in being late in rising cannot excuse the greater fault of ill-temper. A single act of self control might have altered the course of the whole day.”
“Then, mother, I went to school feeling just as cross; I thought I had all my lessons perfectly; but when I got to school, I found I had learned the wrong spelling-lesson, and that provoked me a little more, but I set to work to learn the right one. While in the midst of that, the arithmetic class was called. I had studied the lesson thoroughly last night, but somehow the spelling, or being provoked, or something else, had put it all out of my head, so that I missed ever so many questions: and, to end it all, I have got twelve extra examples to work out at home. I cannot do them; it is no use trying to do anything on such days.”
There was a pause of a few moments, and then his mother said:
“Charley, you like to read the histories of great soldiers and heroes of old times, such as Alexander, and Cæsar, and Napoleon?”
“Yes, mother, very much.”
“Well, tell me, when do you like Alexander best—feasting at Babylon—or in action, commanding his army, attacking the enemy, and gaining victories?”
“I like him best in action, mother, of course.”
“True, we like bravery better than cowardice. When do you like best to read of Napoleon—imprisoned at St. Helena, or at the beginning of his course with difficulties around him, but rising above them all by his strength of will?”
“Oh, I like him best in the beginning, mother,” said Charley, with kindled enthusiasm.