"So, my little son gave nurse a fright the other day?"
"Please, father, I'm very sorry."
The child's lips quiver, but the soft eyes still look trustingly upwards. "I was really trying to be a gentleman—and—and you said gentlemen didn't tell when they tried to be kind, didn't you?"
And now father quite understands the motive which has closed his child's lips—the tender sense of manly honour, which, even in its early growth, is strong enough to influence the heart of his boy.
That Phil is already "learning the luxury of doing good," and beginning a chain of those "little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love," which form "the best portion of a good man's life," fills his heart with a glow of thankfulness.
He stoops, and kissing the pleading, wistful face, says—
"Yes, Phil. Yes, dear little lad, I did say so. You need not tell me any more unless you like. I quite trust you. Remember always that you are a gentleman—or better still, try and follow in the steps of that Perfect Example of a loving and gentle Man—and you will make father very happy."
BOXER.
| "The poor dog, in life the firmest friend— |
| The first to welcome, foremost to defend— |
| Whose honest heart is still his master's own, |
| Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone." |
| Byron. |