THE STUBBORN CHILD.
Mr. Steady was walking out with his little son, when he met a boy with a satchel on his shoulder, crying and sobbing dismally. Mr. Steady accosted him, kindly inquiring what was the matter.
Mr. Steady. Why do you cry?
Boy. They send me to school: and I do not like it.
Mr. Steady. You are a silly boy! what! would you play all day?
Boy. Yes, I would.
Mr. Steady. None but babies do that; your friends are very kind to you.—If they have not time to teach you themselves, then it is their duty to send you where you may be taught; but you must take pains yourself, else you will be a dunce.
Little Steady. Pray, may I give him my book of fables out of my pocket?
Mr. Steady. Do, my dear.