Peter. What, sir! when I have not told a lie!
Master. You have not spent a day in perfect truth for weeks. I have watched you in silence and closely for the last month, and I am satisfied, that you have not merely yielded occasionally to a sudden temptation, but that deception is an habitual thing with you; that, through life, you will endeavor to make your way by low knavery, if I do not root the mean vice out of you, and so save you from the contempt of men, and the anger of God. Rest assured, your Maker looks on your heart as that of a liar. Go into school; and as I am convinced, from reflecting on several circumstances which took place, that you had no just claim to the very medal you now wear, take your place at the foot of your class. The reasons of your degradation shall be explained in presence of all the scholars. I use the principle of emulation in my school, to rouse up talent and encourage industry; but I watch against its abuse. I endeavor to unite with this principle a noble and unwavering love of truth, and generous, honorable feelings; and am happy to say, that, except yourself, I have no cause of doubt of having succeeded. I know not one of your companions, who would not spurn from his heart the base man[oe]uvres which you adopt; and, before this day is over, they shall have fresh motives to value fair dealing. You must be made an example of; I will no longer permit you to treat your schoolmates with injustice, or so as to injure your own soul. Go in!
The Three Friends.
Two sisters, named Amy and Anna, were once sitting together upon a grassy bank, when a large dog came between them, and thrusting his nose familiarly into their hands, snugged down, as if desirous of making one of the party. The two girls caressed him fondly, and called him “good Dash” and “pretty Dash”—and many other titles of affection they bestowed upon him. At length the younger of the girls said, “Amy, I have heard that Dash once saved my life: will you tell me how it happened?” “With pleasure,” said Amy; and accordingly she proceeded as follows:
“About five years ago, Anna, when you were not more than two years old, we were living in Vermont, near one of the streams that empties into Connecticut river. The snow was very deep that winter, and when it came to go away in the spring, it made a great freshet. The melted snow came down the hills and mountains, and filled the rivers, which overflowed their banks, and overspread the valleys and swept everything before them.
“The little river near our house suddenly rose above its borders, and came thundering along, tearing away trees and bridges and mills and houses. At last it seemed to threaten our dwelling, and father and mother began to prepare to leave it and fly to the neighboring hills for security. In the preparation for flight, you was put into a large basket with some clothes stuffed round you, and set down upon a little bridge of planks near the house, while our parents and myself were gathering together a few things to take with us. As father put you on the bridge, he noticed that Dash seemed to look on with interest and anxiety, for the waters made a terrible roaring all around us; and he observed also, on looking back, that Dash had taken his seat on the bridge by your side.
“You had not been left more than ten minutes, when we heard a frightful noise, and going to the door, we saw, with terror and amazement, that the water had suddenly risen and surrounded the house. Nothing could save us but instant flight. Father took me in his arms, and with mother clinging to him, he started for the bridge where you had been placed; but he soon perceived that the bridge had been carried away by the rush of the waters, and neither you nor Dash was to be seen. It was no time for delay or search, for the waves were rising rapidly, and it was with the utmost difficulty that father was able to take mother and me to the hill. There at length we arrived, and leaving us to take care of ourselves, father went in search of you. He was absent nearly four hours—and I never shall forget the anxiety with which we waited his return. We were without shelter; the earth was damp and the air chill; but we were so absorbed in fear for you that we thought not of our own sufferings. At last we saw father coming, at a considerable distance. He had you in his arms, and Dash was leaping and frolicking at his side. I was never so happy; I shall never, never be so happy again, as I was when I saw father coming, and saw that you was safe!
“At length father reached us; though it was a matter of some difficulty, on account of the water, which had choked up the valley. I need not tell how heartily mother and myself kissed you when we got hold of you. We shed a great many tears, but you only laughed, and seemed to think it all a pleasant frolic. When we could compose our feelings, father told us the story of your escape. It seems that the waters rose suddenly while we were in the house, and lifting the planks of the bridge, carried you and Dash and the basket upon them, down the stream. The current was very swift, and you must have sailed along at a terrible rate; but faithful Dash kept his place at your side. You had gone about two miles, when the dog and basket were seen by some people standing on the shore. Dash saw them at the same moment, and he set up a very piteous howl, but they did not understand him. When he saw that there was no relief to be had from them, he leaped into the water, and seizing one end of one of the planks in his mouth, began to swim with all his might, and push the planks toward the land. He was so powerful and so skilful, that he very soon gave them a direction toward a little island, which was not distant, and in a few moments they struck against the shore, and were held fast by running between some small trees. The dog again set up a howl, and the people before mentioned, now thinking something was the matter, entered a boat and went to the island, where they found you fast asleep in the basket, and dry as a biscuit!”
When Amy had reached this point of her story, Anna put her arms around the dog’s neck, and with her eyes swimming in tears, kissed him over and over again. She said nothing, however, for her heart was too full. Her sister then went on to tell the rest of the story—but as the reader will easily guess it all, I need not repeat it here. If any of my young readers are curious to know all about it, I shall be at their service, whenever they will give me a call.