Forgotten Tales of Long Ago

by E. V. Lucas

'Oh fie, Charles!' said his mother; 'you are a wicked boy: have not I often told you that God made the poor as well as the rich, and He will hate those who despise them? Now, Charles, if God, to punish you for your pride, were to take away your father and me, and you had no money to buy food, and your clothes became old and ragged, you would then be a poor, shabby boy, and worse off than Giles; for you could not earn your own living, as he does; and you would consequently be starved to death if God did not take care of you. And if, while you were rich, you hated the poor, how could you expect God to care for you when you grew poor, like those you had scorned?'

But Charles, however, was so naughty he would not stay to hear what his mother said, but ran away into the fields.

Then Charles's mother was so vexed that she could not help crying at his being such a wicked, proud boy; and she could not sleep all that night for the grief his conduct had occasioned her. The next day she was forced to take a long journey, to visit a friend who was very ill, and who lived in London. She was very sorry to leave her children, for she knew if Charles behaved naughty when she was with him, he would be a sad boy indeed when he was left to himself, and had none to correct him and tell him of his faults.

When the carriage that was to take Mrs. Grant to London drove to the door, she kissed her children a great many times, and begged that they would be very good while she was away from them.

'You, my dear Clara, I know, will mind what nurse says to you, and will try to be good while I am gone; for you know that God will see everything you do amiss, if I do not; and I hope you will never forget to say your prayers to Him night and morning.'

Clara kissed her dear mother, and promised that she would attend to all she said; and her mother was satisfied, for she knew that Clara never told stories, though she was but a little girl.

Then Mrs. Grant turned to Charles, and said: 'As for you, Charles, I cannot help feeling great pain at leaving you; for you are such a bad, wilful boy that I shall not have a happy moment whilst I am away from you, lest you should do anything amiss. But if you love me, you will try to be good; and whenever you are about to do anything wrong, say to yourself, "How much this would grieve my poor mother if she knew it! and how much it will offend God, who does see, and knows, not only everything I do, but even my most secret thoughts! And He will one day bring me to an account for all I do or say against His holy will and my kind parents' commands."'

Charles, who knew he was a bad boy, hung down his head, for he did not like to be told of his faults.

Then his mother said: 'My dear Charles, do try and be good, and I will love you dearly.'

'But what will you bring me from London,' said Charles, 'if I am a good boy? for I never will behave well for nothing.'