"I need scarcely urge upon you the importance of being always entirely truthful with them, since you know how severely the Scriptures condemn any, even the slightest, departure from truth."
"I should hope not, indeed, mother," said Zillah. "I know I have not always been firm with my boy, have sometimes let him gain his wishes—which I have at first denied—by persistent fretting and crying, and have often too coaxed when I ought to have demanded obedience; but I have never tried to secure his obedience by deceiving or telling him what was not true."
"It is surprising what very lax ideas many persons—yes, even some who profess to be Christians—have in regard to that thing," remarked Miss Stanhope. "Shrinking from the exertion or the pain of enforcing obedience by legitimate means, they resort to subterfuge, prevarication, or even downright falsehood.
"I have heard a mother say to her refractory or crying child, 'If you don't come into the house now a big black bear will catch you;' or, 'If you don't stop that screaming a dog will come and bite you.'
"Besides that, they will utter threats they have not the remotest intention of carrying out, a fact which the little ones are not slow to discover and act upon."
At this point the conversation was interrupted by a call from two neighbors. It was of unfashionable length, and the talk ran principally upon housekeeping, children, and servants.
One of the callers, an elderly lady, had several little anecdotes to tell of the smart sayings and doings of her grandchildren; one of them so aptly illustrating Miss Stanhope's recent remarks that Mildred and Zillah could not refrain from a furtive exchange of significant glances. This was the narrative that drew them forth.
"Two of my grandchildren were staying at our house last week—Mary Bronson, my son's daughter—she's ten years old—and Tommy Linn, my oldest daughter's child, he's about five, and has a great notion of being a man; he's out of petticoats now, and you couldn't punish him worse than by making him put them on again.
"Well, the second night he was with us I was in a quandary. His night-gown had been hung out to air, and a shower had come up and made it soaking wet, for you see nobody had thought to bring it in, and his mother had sent only one.
"When Tommy saw the condition it was in he spoke right up: 'Grandmother, don't you give me a girl's night-gown, 'cause I sha'n't wear it. I want to have a man's.'