Bob hung his head and did not reply. He had not thought of his fault in this light at all, but as his mother spoke, he recalled what he had often heard at school—about the unfairness, and the selfishness that all games of chance lead people to commit, and he remembered how he had complained of Tom Flowers not telling him how he might have avoided losing his money.
"I see, mother," he said slowly, "people who gamble and bet can't do to others as they would have others do to them. That's what Tom said to-day, when I grumbled because he didn't tell me all he knew about these races. He said everyone must be for himself in this, and look after the main chance."
"Yes, I suppose so, and the Lord Jesus Christ says, If anyone will be My disciple let him deny himself, which is just the opposite of what these racing people say."
"But I wouldn't have served Tom Flowers as he served me," protested Bob, in some indignation.
"Perhaps not just at first, but I daresay you would have come to it by-and-by; for what the Lord Jesus taught us as the golden rule of conduct between us and our neighbours—to do unto others as we would wish them to do to us if we were in their place, is quite impossible in all gambling and betting. You can see this for yourself. You say this Tom is a nice friendly lad, and yet he never told you what he had heard to save you from losing your money. Don't you see, that those who win must do so at the expense of those who lose; all cannot win, and, therefore, your gain must mean loss to somebody else, and so you profit by robbing another of his money—it is little better than robbery," concluded Mrs. Ronan.
"I see, mother," said Bob, humbly, "and if it wasn't for your shawl, I should feel rather glad that I hadn't won, for I should wonder now who had lost the money I had got."
"Thank God you didn't win, for if you had, you would never have thought about it perhaps, but only got into the habit of wanting and spending money, until this betting became a habit too, and then whatever money you might win, would cause you to be a ruined lad—ruined in body and soul, so I can thank God for the loss of my shawl, since it may be the means of saving my boy," said the widow.
"And you think the game of pitch-and-toss is as bad as betting?" said Bob, but it was more in the way of confession than asking a question.
What his mother said had so touched him, that he thought he had better make a clean breast of it, and let his mother know the worst at once, though it would grieve her, he knew, to hear how every consideration of right and wrong had been given up since he left the Sunday-school.
"Oh, Bob, you know as well as I do, that pitch-and-toss is only gambling. Didn't you see some boys taken up by the police for playing at this game only last week. Oh, my boy, my boy, I little dreamed—"