Instead of the Bad Boys Beating the Poor Dog, the Bad Dogs are beating the poor Boy.

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Page 71—Stealing Land

No One Will See Me
"No one will see me,"
Said little John Day,
For his father and mother
Were out of the way,
And he was at home
All alone;
"No one will see me,"
So he climbed on a chair,
And peeped in the cupboard
To see what was there,
Which of course he ought
Not to have done.
There stood in the cupboard,
So sweet and so nice,
A plate of plum-cake
In full many a slice,
And apples so ripe,
And so fine;
"Now no one will see me,"
Said John to himself,
As he stretched out his arm
To reach up to the shelf;
"This apple, at least,
Shall be mine."
John paused and put back
The nice apple so red,
For he thought of the words
His kind mother had said,
When she left all these
Things in his care;
"And no one will see me,"
Thought he, "'tis not true;
For I've read that God sees us
In all that we do,
And is with us
Everywhere."
Well done, John;
Your father and mother obey,
Try ever to please them;
And mind what they say,
Even when they
Are absent from you;
And never forget that,
Though no one is nigh,
You cannot be hid from
The Glance of God's eye,
Who notices all
That you do.
Principle Put To The Test
A youngster at school,
More sedate than the rest,
Had once his integrity
Put to the test:—
His comrades had plotted
The orchard to rob,
And asked him to go
And assist in the job.
He was very much shocked,
And answered, "Oh no!
What! rob our poor neighbour!
I pray you don't go;
Besides, the man's poor,
His orchard's his bread;
Then think of his children,
For they must be fed."
"You speak very fine,
And you look very grave,
But apples we want,
And apples we'll have;
If you will go with us,
We'll give you a share,
If not, you shall have
Neither apple nor pear."
They spoke, and Tom pondered—
"I see they will go;
Poor man! What a pity
To injure him so!
Poor man! I would save him
His fruit if I could,
But staying behind
Will do him no good.
"If this matter depended
Alone upon me,
His apples might hang
Till they dropped from the tree;
But since they will take them,
I think I'll go too,
He will lose none by me,
Though I get a few."
His scruples this silenced,
Tom felt more at ease,
And went with his comrades
The apples to seize;
He blamed and protested
But joined in the plan,
He shared in the plunder,
But pitied the man.
Cowper
Advice
Who steals a pin
Commits a sin
Who tells a lie
Has cause to sigh.
When ask'd to go
And sin, say, No!
The guilty breast
Is ne'er at rest.
You must not sin
A world to win
Why should you go
The way to woe.
The Boy And His Mother
In Aesop, we are told, a boy,
Who was his mother's pride and joy,
At school a primer stole one day,
And homeward then did wend his way.
He told his mother of the theft,
While she, of principle bereft,
Patted him on the head and smil'd.
And said, "You are my own dear child."
She praised him for the cunning feat,
And gave him a nice apple sweet.
In course of years the boy grew fast,
Till he became a man at last;
But all the time he slyly stole—
Sometimes a piece—sometimes the whole,
Till, finally, he grew so bold,
He kill'd a man and took his gold.
The day on which he had to swing
Did a large crowd together bring.
Among the rest his mother came,
And called him fondly by his name.
The sheriff gave him leave to tell
The broken-hearted dame farewell!
About his neck her arms she flung,
And cried, "Why must my child be hung?"
He answered, "Call me not your dear."
And by one stroke bit off her ear;
While all the crowd cried, "Oh! for shame!
Not satisfied to blast her name.
You add this violence to one
Whose happiness you have undone!"
"Good people," he replied, "I'll vow
I would not be a felon now.
If my mother had only tried
To win me to the better side.
But when in infancy I took
What was not mine, a small torn book,
Instead of punishing the feat
She gave to me an apple sweet;
She prais'd me too, and softly smil'd,
And said, 'You are my own dear child!'
I tell you here, both foe and friend,
This is the cause of my sad end."