He hid the handkerchief again, for the twentieth time, and then said, "Find it, Tony;" and she instantly darted here and there, pulling the pillow up with her teeth.
"I see, Frankie; and I think I know a little boy who could learn a good lesson from his dog."
"Learn from a dog, ma?"
"Yes, indeed! Don't you remember how Solomon, the wisest man, told us to go to the ant, and learn industry and perseverance? We can learn many lessons from animals, if we notice their particular traits."
Frank looked very thoughtful for a few moments, and then said, frankly,—
"I'm sorry, ma, I didn't obey you better. I acted just like Sam Lambert's Fox. I didn't think of that before."
Mrs. Colvin leaned over the bed, and kissed her boy.
What do you suppose she was thinking of? She was thanking God, who had put it into Frankie's heart to confess his sin.
"Why, ma," the boy went on, "if Tony had acted that way, when I told her to do something,—I mean if she had fooled away her time,—I should have got a stick and whipped her. Why didn't you whip me, ma?"
The lady smiled, as she said, "I preferred to punish you by sending you here, and giving you time to reflect; and I rejoice that you have learned so good a lesson from your pet. Obedience, prompt, cheerful obedience, is the best foundation for a good character. You see what a nuisance Tony would become if she did not obey you; and there is no sight more dreadful to good people, than an unruly, disobedient child. Such a one is sure to grow up disregardful of the laws of God and man, and very often ends his days in a prison, or on the gallows."