"Don't check the boy," he would say to his mother, "you will crush all the manhood in him."
And so he grew up the terror of his neighbors. The old, the infirm, and the crippled were the especial objects of his vicious merriment.
One poor woman, bent by age and infirmities, he assailed with his ridicule, as she daily went out upon her crutch, to draw water from the well near her house, and just within the playground of the schoolhouse.
"Only look at her," he would say, "isn't she the letter S now, with an extra crook in it?" and his cruel laugh, as he followed closely behind, mocking and mimicking her, called forth from her no rebuke.
One day, however, she turned, and looking at him reproachfully, said:—
"Go home, child, and read the story of Elisha and the two bears out of the wood."
"Shame on you, Will," said Charles Mansfield, "to laugh at her misfortunes! I heard my grandmother say that she became a cripple by lifting her invalid son, and tending him night and day."
"I don't care what made her so," said Will, "but I wouldn't stay among people if I was such a looking thing as that. Do look!"
"Shame!" said Charles; "shame!" echoed each of the boys present. And to show their sympathy, several of them sprang forward to aid the poor woman; but Charles Mansfield, the oldest, and always an example of nobleness and generosity, was the first. "Let me get the water for you, ma'am," and he gently took the bucket from her hand.
Her voice was tremulous and tearful, as she said, "Thank you, my dear boy. God grant that you may never suffer from such infirmities."