Parker's Second Reader / National Series of Selections for Reading, Designed For The Younger Classes In Schools, Academies, &C.

by Richard Green Parker

LESSON XVI.

Fire,[A]—a Conversation between a Mother and her little Daughter.

Daughter. Mother dear, you told me, the other day, that nobody knows what light is, except the Great Creator. Now, can you tell me what fire is?

Mother. I fear, my child, that you have asked another question which I cannot directly answer. What fire is, is known only by its effects.

Daughter. And what are its effects, mother?

Mother. Some of its effects are as well known to you, my dear, as they are to me; and I shall, in the first place, call to your recollection what you yourself know about fire, before I attempt to give you any further information in relation to it.

Daughter. Why, mother, I am sure I do not know what fire is.

Mother. No, Caroline, I know that you do not know what fire is; neither do I, nor does any one, except the Great Creator himself. This is one of his secrets, which, in his wisdom, he reserves for himself.

But you certainly know some of the effects of fire. For instance, you know that when you have been out into the cold, you wish, on your return, to go to the fire. Now, can you tell me what you go to the fire for?