Well, this blacksmith had a favourite maxim, which he was fond of impressing on his children. It was this— “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, doing it as if to the Lord, and not to men.” We need hardly say that he found something like this maxim in the Bible—a grand channel through which wisdom flows to man.
Of course he had some trouble in teaching his little ones, just as other fathers have. One evening, when speaking about this favourite maxim, he was interrupted by a most awful yell under the table.
“Why, what ever is the matter with the cat?” said the blacksmith in surprise.
“It’s on’y me, fadder,” said little Jim; “I found hims tail, and I pulled it wid all my might!”
“Ah, Jim!” said Mrs Thorogood, laughing, as she placed a huge plate of crumpets on the table, “it’s only when a thing is right we are to do it with our might. Pulling the cat’s tail is wrong.
“‘When a thing’s wrong,
Let it alone.
When a thing’s right,
Do it with might.’
“Come now, supper’s ready.”
“Capital poetry, Old Moll,” shouted the blacksmith, as he drew in his chair, “but not quite so good as the supper. Now, then—silence.”
A blessing was asked with clasped hands and shut eyes. Then there was a sudden opening of the eyes and a tendency in little hands to grasp at the crumpets, buttered-toast, bacon, and beans, but good training told. Self-restraint was obvious in every trembling fist and glancing eye. Only curly-haired little Jim found the smell too much for him. He was about to risk reputation and everything, when a glance from his father quelled the rebellious spirit.
“Come, Jim, fair-play. Let it go right round, like the sun,—beginning wi’ mother.”