What punishment the parents thought it right to inflict upon Arthur we do not know; but, no doubt, he was punished in some way, as he deserved. And besides this, he had the still severer punishment which always follows that meanest fault of which any one can be guilty—that of accusing another and innocent person of what we have ourselves done.
Bad as this fault is, it is, alas! too common. But no manly, honest-minded, truthful boy will be betrayed into it. To the better impulses of our young readers who have been so wicked as to fall into this sin, either from sudden impulse or deliberate purpose, we would earnestly appeal, and beg of them to think more wisely and act more justly in the future. No cause is ever made better, but always worse, by a falsehood. Even where detection does not follow, suspicion is almost always created; for it is impossible for a boy to tell a lie without betraying it in the face or voice, and causing a doubt to pass through the minds of his parents, and set them to making inquiry into the truth or falsehood of what he has stated.
Truth—the open, bold, honest truth—is always the best, always the wisest, always the safest for every one, in any and all circumstances. Let no boy deviate from it, even though he have been guilty of a fault. Better—a thousand times better—is it to own to the wrong, and keep a clear conscience.
A Story about a Dog.
“TELL us a story, father, before we go to bed,” said a little boy, who spoke for two brothers as well as for himself.
“What shall it be about?” asked Mr. Melville, their father.
“Oh, about a dog. I love to hear stories about dogs.”