“Can that be father?” whispered they to each other as they heard a steady step and a calm voice. The youngest boy peeped out his head to see.
“Come here, my poor boy,” said Thomas, kindly; “you needn’t be afraid; I am not drunk.” “Oh, he isn’t drunk! he isn’t drunk!” said Jemmy, clapping his hands in great joy; “come out, children, father won’t hurt us.” Half faithless, half believing, the children left their hiding-place and came around their father.
“Mother hasn’t sent you for any rum to-day, has she, Mary?” “No, father; I hope I shall never go to that shop again.” “You never shall, to buy rum, Mary, I promise you. Do you believe me?” Mary looked as if she did not quite believe, but she said nothing.
A year has passed by since the period when our history commenced. It is a fine morning in April, as it then was. The children of the village are pursuing their way to school as pleasantly as they then were. But where is the little girl, with soiled face, tattered dress, and bare feet, that then attracted our attention? Look for one of the happiest girls among that gay, laughing group, and you will find her. Her dirty, tattered garments are exchanged for neat and comely ones; her bare feet are covered with tidy shoes and stockings, and in her hand she carries, not a tin pail, but a basket containing her school-books and work. The scenes through which this day will carry her will be very different from those through which she passed a year ago.
A great and blessed change has indeed come over this once wretched family. They have left the miserable habitation which was once theirs, and are now living upon a small but excellent farm, whose owner is not afraid to rent it to so sober and industrious people as Thomas and Nancy have become. Within the year, Thomas has been able to purchase comfortable clothing for his family, decent furniture for his house, and has besides partly paid for two yokes of oxen and four cows.
Look at Thomas at work in his field, and managing his little farm, thriving at home and respected abroad, and say what would tempt him to come again under the influence of his former ruinous habits? Look at Nancy, too, superintending her dairy and supplying the wants of her family—does she wish for a return of those days when she was the intemperate mother of hungry, neglected children? But are there not hundreds of mothers who are at this time what she once was? and can they not, will they not, be induced to become what she now is?
The Boastful Ass.
I can hardly tell the reason, but the fact seems to be, that the ass, an honest and somewhat stupid animal, seems to have given rise to more fables than any other beast, except the fox. I have already told some fables in which this long-eared personage is made to utter a great many wise things. I am now going to tell another fable, in which the creature is represented as talking rather foolishly.