
This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 
to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 
publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 

We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 



at |http : //books . google . com/ 



TULifs TO Bors. 



BY 



ELEANOR A. HUNTER. 




AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 



594545 
C 



COPYRIGHT, 1890, 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 




Trifles - -— - 7 

What to Be — — '— - 8 

A Talk to Business Boys— — ii 

A Talk to Poor Boys 14 

A Talk to Rich Boys 16 

A Talk to Schoolboys _ 19 

On Telling the Truth — _ 23 

On Spending and Saving — - 27 

On Plain English 31 

On Weak Points _ 34 

The Soul of Honor 37 

What to Read and How to do it— _ 40 

What to Read and How to Read 43 

On Self-Control - 47 

Which Was the Braver ? 51 

A Danger Signal 56 

Kate's Brother Jack _ 63 



4 CONTENTS. 

" Mother's Own Boy" 65 

Out-of-door Behavior 69 

A Talk to Shy Boys 73 

A Talk to Awkward Boys... 79 

On Teasing - ^ 85 

On Being Pleasant 88 

On Laughing 90 

Missions for Boys _ 94 

On Being a Gentleman _ 99 

On Getting Acquainted with Christ — 103 

On Being a Christian - - 106 



TO THE <BOYS WHO WILL (REAO THIS (BOOK. 



My Dear Boys : — I think you will discover 
by the time you have read this book that the 
writer of it likes boys, and you will also per- 
ceive as you turn its pages that I have a good 
many boy friends. It is through them that 
these " Talks *' have come to be written out, for 
they are the direct result of genuine talks which 
I have had at various times either with my 
Sunday-school boys or my " other boys." Some 
of them have occurred in the half-hour which 
my Sunday-school class always takes for general 
chat before the school is opened ; some are bits 
from the lesson itself; and others have come 
about on Saturday evenings or other odd times, 
when some of the " other boys " have dropped 
in for a half-hour. 

Thus there are in it, as you will see, " Sunday 
talks " and " every-day talks," but after all they 
each bear upon the same thing in the end, and 
that is — how a boy may train himself day by day 
into a nobler life. And I have put these talks 
into print in the hope that boys whom I may 
never see stnd talk with face to face, yet of 
whom I often think, may find within these 
pages something which shall be a help to them 
upon the upward way. e. a. h. 



TALKS TO BOYS. 



TRIFLES. 

They were only some little snowflakes, 

So feathery, soft, and light ; 
Yet a host of them together 

Stopped a train of cars one night; 

And the shivering, frightened people 

Fought with hunger and cold 
Long hours ere they were rescued 

From the little snowflakes* hold. 

They were only some little raindrops 

Who lived afar in the sky ; 
But they said, " Let *s drop together 

Down into that field so dry." 

So they jumped down, laughing and splashing, 

With a music fine and sweet, 
And saved with their gracious moisture 

The field of withering wheat. 

Oh ! my boys, come near while I tell you — 

Let me speak as clear as I can : 
Tis little deeds, for wrong or right, 

That will make or mar the man. 

Let your thoughts, your words, and your actions 

Be honest and kind and true. 
And the crown of a noble manhood 

Will surely belong to you. 



TALKS TO BOYS. 



WHAT TO BE. 

If a boy knows what trade, business, or pro- 
fession he wishes to have when he is a man, 
it is a very good thing. There is no doubt that 
he should follow his bent, and his education 
should be such as will help him best to develop 
those faculties which he will use in his work. 
But many a boy of good abilities, honest and 
sincere, does not know what he wants to be. It 
is for such boys that this article is written. 

I feel sure that there is some particular work 
given to every one who is bom into this world. 
And I thi^ik that if a boy will patiently and 
seriously study his own nature, in time he can 
find out what his work is. It is a good plan, in 
the first place, to find out what one cannot do. 
Many of the arts, for instance, require a ge- 
nius — ^and that means more than a taste, or even 
a talent — for their successful pursuit. And 
there are at least two professions which should 
not be attempted unless one is sure of an unmis- 
takable call towards them. A boy should never 
dare attempt to be a physician unless he has not 
only the strongest taste for the twin sciences of 
surgery and medicine, but also a love for hu- 
manity so broad and deep and unselfish that he 
cannot be satisfied with anything less than 



WHAT TO BE. 9 

spending his lifetime in alleviating its miseries. 
And before lie enters the Christian ministry he 
should be equally sure that he can be satisfied 
with no other life-work, and that he is willing 
to make the same self -consecration for the souls 
that a doctor does for the bodies of men. 

Regarding what are called " the professions :" 
never choose one because of the honor or dis- 
tinction which it may bring you. No profession 
ever distinguished a man ; on the contrary, if a 
man does not ennoble and dignify his profession 
he disgraces it. 

Many pursuits are in these days barred out 
because they are not considered suitable for a 
gentleman. This is a mistake. All labor is 
honorable, and any man is a gentleman who 
behaves like one ; and I know men to-day who 
have failed in life because they were put into a 
profession or a business, when if they had been 
allowed to learn their favorite trade or handi- 
craft, they would have been successful and 
happy. So if you have a strong taste for any- 
thing of that sort, be sure it is a bent of your 
nature and not a fancy, then make your choice, 
stick to it, and be happy. 

I know a gentleman, now living in a New 
England college town, where plain living and 
high thinking are yet the fashion, and he made 
such a choice and became a blacksmith ; and he 



10 TALKS TO BOYS. 

is the most wonderful blacksmith I ever heard 
of. He has a power of subduing vicious ani- 
mals which is phenomenal, and which two hun- 
dred years ago would have given him a reputa- 
tion for sorcery. He shoes the most untamable 
horses entirely unaided ; the touch of his hand, 
the sound of his voice, and the steady gaze of 
his bright dark eyes, in a short time after they 
are brought to him, quiet and subdue them 
and render them obedient to his will. This 
gentleman is a well-educated man, a reader and 
a thinker, and he is considered the social equal 
of any one in the place ; and I did not know 
whether to admire him more as he stood before 
his anvil, with his leather apron buckled on and 
his sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, displaying 
the magnificent muscles of his arm, while with 
his great hammer he smote with mighty blows 
the iron he was fashioning, making showers of 
sparks fly all about the place, or when, on the 
evening of the same day, he came forward to 
speak to me at the president's levee with the 
same easy and gentle manners with which he 
had welcomed me to his shop. And I imagine 
that if that man had attempted to be anything 
else than a blacksmith he would have disobeyed 
a divine call. 

And when you have made your choice, re- 
member that fitness for your business is not the 



A TALK TO BUSINESS BOYS. 1 1 

only thing. Long years of steady work may 
be necessary before you gain success. Without 
industry genius itself is nothing; but patient 
continuance in well-doing will surely win its 
reward. 



A TALK TO BUSINESS BOYS 

The first year of a boy's business life is a 
critical one. He comes, perhaps, from a country 
home, certainly from a school-life well hedged 
about and protected by careful parents and 
teachers. He has lived heretofore under con- 
ditions in which it was easier to go right than 
wrong, and it is indeed a change when he takes 
life into his own hands and plunges into a great 
city's business current whose ramifications en- 
circle the world, and becomes one little atom 
in its vast force. Then it is he gets his first 
practical experience of life and gains his first 
real knowledge of men and things. Then, too, 
he begins to find out what metal he himself is 
made of, and to shape his life's course ; and as 
he gives it an upward or a downward curve, so 
it is apt to continue. 

A boy's first position in a commercial house 
is usually at the foot of the ladder; his duties 
are plain, his place is insignificant, and his salary 
is small. He is expected to familiarize himself 



12 TALKS TO BOYS. 

with the business, and as he becomes more in- 
telligent in regard to it he is advanced to a 
more responsible place. His first duty, then, is 
to his work. He must cultivate day by day 
habits of fidelity, accuracy,, neatness, and des- 
patch, and these qualities will tell in his favor as 
surely as the world revolves. Though he may 
work unnoticed and uncommended for months, 
such conduct always meets its reward. 

I once knew a boy who was a clerk in a 
large mercantile house which employed, as en- 
try clerks, shipping clerks, buyers, bookkeepers, 
and salesmen, eighty young men, besides a 
small army of porters, packers, and truckmen; 
and this boy of seventeen felt that amid such a 
crowd he was lost to notice, and that any efforts 
he might make would be quite unregarded. 
Nevertheless he did his duty ; every morning at 
eight o'clock he was promptly in his place, and 
every power that he possessed was brought to 
bear upon his work. After he had been with the 
firm a year he had occasion to ask them for the 
favor of a week's leave of absence during the 
busy season. 

"That," was the response, "is an unusual 
request, and one which it is somewhat incon- 
venient for us to grant; but to show you 
that we appreciate the efforts you have made 
since you have been with us, we take pleasure 



A TALK to BUSINESS BOYS. 1 3 

in giving you the leave of absence for which 
you ask." 

" I didn't think," said the boy, when he came 
home that night and related his success, "that 
they knew a thing about me, but it seems they 
have watched me ever since I have been with 
them." 

They had indeed watched him, and had se- 
lected him for advancement ; for shortly after he 
was promoted to a position of trust with an 
appropriate increase of salary. 

It must be so, sooner or later, for there is 
always a demand for excellent work. A boy 
who means to build up for himself a successful 
business will find it a long and difficult task, 
even if he brings to bear his best efforts both of 
body and of mind; but he who thinks to win 
without doing his very best will find himself a 
loser in the race. 

There is no position in life more honorable 
than that of a successful business man, and there 
are few more influential. It is the judgment 
and advice of business men that g^ide affairs of 
national importance. The most wonderful in- 
ventions of the age are but servants to do their 
bidding. It is no wonder that they are called 
" Railroad Kings " and " Merchant Princes," 
when we see the power they possess. How 
necessary, then, that the boys who are growing 



14 TALKS TO BOYS. 

up to take the places of those men who now 
direct our commerce and manufactures, should 
be noble-hearted, honorable, and intelligent 
men, not amassing wealth for its own sake or 
for the selfish pleasures which it brings, but to 
bestow it in a wise philanthropy for the com- 
fort, welfare, and advancement of their fellow- 
men. 

4 

A TALK TO POOR BOYS. 

If a boy has good health and an intelligent 
mind, the best thing that can happen to him 
is to have to make his own way in life; for 
every struggle increases his strength and every 
success gives him fresh courage and confidence, 
and whatever he wishes to be he can be. In 
this land of cheap books and free schools, if he 
desires an education he can get it. If he has 
a real thirst for knowledge, he can work his way 
through college as many another boy has done 
before him, and enter any profession he chooses. 
So many of our distinguished men have fought 
this fight and have reached their present emi- 
nence entirely through their own exertions, that 
it seems sometimes as if that was the only path 
to fame and honor, and as if all one had to do 
was to start at the bottom to end at the top ; but 
the fact is that all poor boys do not become sue- 



A TALK TO POOR BOYS. 1$ 

cessful men. As Mr. Howells puts it, " I have 
known too many men who had all the disadvan- 
tage and who never came to anything.** Those 
are the men who have neither the industry nor 
the pluck to work and fight through long years, 
if need be, until the battle is won. The world is 
full of discontented and unhappy men, the cow- 
ards and deserters in the fight of life, lagging in 
the rear, hiding behind every shelter they can 
find, and grumbling because they cannot get 
somebody to fight and work for them. Envious 
of their neighbors who are better oflf, forgetting 
that other men have won their ease and comfort 
through their own industry and thrift, they 
blame everybody for their misfortunes except 
themselves. I do not know of what use such 
men are in this world, unless it be as warnings 
to the rising generation. 

Never say you cannot do a thing because you 
have not the chance. If you really wish to do it 
and need to do it, the opportunity will come ; and 
if you are swift to see it and quick to take it, 
it is yours. 

But perhaps a boy who is reading this may 
say, " Ah, but I have more than myself to take 
care of. If I had only myself I could manage ; 
but I have mother and the children, and I am 
the only man there is in the family.*' That is 
the best of all. A boy with such a trust never 



l6 TALKS TO BOYS. 

can nor will desert it ; and lie is learning daily 
such lessons of endurance, industry, and unself- 
ishness as will be of priceless value to him dur- 
ing his whole life. Courage, my dear brave 
fellow, for you are sure to win. 

A poor boy learns to " endure hardness like a 
good soldier," and things which others could not 
bear he takes as easily as a trained athlete lifts 
a weight which untrained muscles could not stir. 
So be thankful if you have been sent to school 
to Mistress Poverty, for though she is the stern- 
est, yet she is the wisest and most faithful teach- 
er, and if you will learn the tasks she sets, you 
will surely become a brave and noble man. 



A TALK TO RICH BOYS. 

There is no doubt that to be the son of a 
rich father is apt to be a disadvantage to a boy. 
He has all the clothes he needs, made of excel- 
lent material, well cut and suitable, his food is 
of the best, and the house in which he lives has 
every comfort and luxury. He has no anxiety 
about his school bills and he has plenty of 
money in his pockets. He is sent to the best 
of schools in the winter and goes to pleasant 
resorts in the summer or takes delightful jour- 
neys. His father and mother grant him every 



A TALK TO RICH BOYS. 1/ 

indulgence, and when lie has finished college, 
where he has doubtless been lodged like a 
young Sybarite, he is given every help that 
money can furnish to establish him in his 
chosen business or profession. All this is ex- 
tremely hard on a boy. It is hard on him 
mentally, morally, and physically, and if he 
lives through it and comes out a noble man, 
he is indeed made of excellent metal. He 
knows nothing of anxiety or care, and he 
knows nothing of physical labor. He has no 
need of self-denial, industry, or endurance, and 
how can qualities which never are exercised be 
developed ? I have read of a wealthy man who 
felt these things so keenly that after having 
given his son a liberal education, he shoved 
him out of the parental nest and made him 
shift for himself, and when he died left his for^ 
tune entirely to charity. I think he would have 
done better if he had educated that son as to 
the care, use, and value of money, and then left 
him the money as a sacred trust to be used both 
for himself and for his fellow-men. I feel sure 
that money was meant to be a blessing and not 
a curse, and that if we estimate it at its right 
value and use it as we should, it will prove to 
be so. 

A rich boy, then, ought to be just as fine a 
fellow as a poor boy. Every virtue which a 

T«Iks To Boyt. ^ 



1 8 TALKS TO BOYS. 

poor boy is obliged to cultivate if lie makes a 
man of himself, a ricli boy ought to cultivate 
for the same reason. He ought to rise superior 
to luxuries and to prove that if need be he 
can do without them. He should resist every 
temptation to dissipate, and learn to work just 
as thoroughly and Ijeartily as a poor boy must. 
Try during next vacation, if you are a rich boy, 
and see if you have sufficient pluck and knowl- 
edge to earn your own living. Insist always 
upon doing everything that you can for your- 
self! Play hard, work hard, and study hard, sov 
as to fit yourself for the trust which is coming \ 
to you in your manhood. Remember that it is \ 
not the one who has the best start who wins the I 
race, but the one who has the best staying 
power. You may have every possible advan- / 
tage and help, but if you do not improve them / 
they are of no benefit ; for after all you are the / 
one who must make a man of yourself, and if / 
you do not do it no one else can. / 

The annals of our country bear many hon- 
ored names of men who never knew the sharp 
discipline of poverty, and who, being bom with 
every advantage which wealth and position can 
give, realized that these blessings were also 
added responsibilities — for from him to whom 
much is given much shall be required; and 
they nobly fulfilled their trust. They have left 



A TALK TO SCHOOLBOYS. I9 

their mark upon the literature and art of their 
country. They have been in the van of noble 
reforms, and their philanthropy has been as 
wide as the lan^ which they sought to benefit. 
And if a boy who has money will remember 
these things and will fit himself for that station 
in life to which it has pleased God to call him, 
his wealth will be a blessing to him and to the 
community in which he lives. 



A TALK TO SCHOOLBOYS. 

I SUPPOSE most boys think that the reason 
why they are sent to school is to get an educa- 
tion, and that if they learn their lessons suffi- 
ciently well to pass the examinations and finish 
the prescribed course of study and be gfraduated, 
they will have that education and be ready for 
the business of life. But the object of the best 
schools now-a^days is not simply the book-learn- 
ing to be gained, but to give to a boy's spirit, 
mind, and body the best moral, mental, and phy- 
sical training which he is capable of receiving, 
so that when school-days are ended a boy shall 
be equipped with a healthy and active body, a 
mind with alert perceptions and well-trained 
reasoning faculties, and a moral nature whose 
will is strong enough to govern both mind and 



20 TALKS TO BOYS. 

body perfectly. This is a great deal to do, but 
it can be done if a boy will help his school to do 
it ; and the way he can help is by his conduct. 
When a boy behaves well he always plays his 
fairest and studies his best, so that his mind and 
body and spirit are all being trained well to- 
gether. 

E>very boy cannot carry oflf the 'first prize in 
his school for languages or mathematics, but 
every boy can be perfect in conduct if he will. 
And for the comfort of those boys who do not 
rank first in class I will say that although rank 
in class is always worth trying for, and every 
boy is bound to do his best, yet it is not always 
the most brilliant scholars who make the most 
successful men. I was reading not long since 
the experience of a gentleman who gained a 
part of his education at that historic institu- 
tion, the oldest school in America, which is 
called the Boston Latin School. Says he : 

" I came home from this school at the end of 
the first month with a report which showed that 
I was ninth in a class of fifteen; that is about 
the average^ rank which I generally had. I 
showed it to my mother because I had to. To 
my great surprise and relief she said it was a 
very good report. I said I thought she would 
be displeased because I was so low in the class. 
* Oh,' said she, * that is no matter. Probably the 



A TALK TO SCHOOLBOYS. 21 

other boys are brighter than you; God made 
them so and you cannot help that. But the re- 
port says you are among the boys who behave 
well. That you can see to, and that is all I care 
abouf 

That boy is now one of our wisest philan- 
thropists and one of our most brilliant writers 
besides. 

Every boy knows that he transacts a good 
deal of business during a school-term besides 
learning his lessons and playing his games. He 
has a great many plans and schemes which he 
is busy about. Perhaps he takes to taxidermy, 
and has various natural history collections of 
beast, bird, or fish. Or he plunges into miner- 
alogy or botany with enthusiasm. Or he is 
occupied with private experiments in chemis- 
try or inventions in mechanics, and all these 
things are excellent in their way and are as 
much a part of his education as his lessons. 
But it is on these points that I would like to 
give my boy friends a gentle word of warning. 
For one thing, do not spend too much time on 
these things. Keep them in their proper place 
and they will rarely get you into trouble. Occa- 
sionally, however, something may go wrong 
through your inexperience or carelessness. It 
is surprising what a propensity things have to 
explode or to bum up, or at the least to make a 



22 TALKS TO BOYS. 

very bad smell or to leave a dreadful stain, 
when they are being managed by a boy. Well, 
when you are in your scrape, own up and take 
the consequences and never attempt to slide out 
of it. You will have gained a valuable piece of 
experience, for I am sure you will never attempt 
to do that particular thing again in exactly that 
way, besides adding a bit of strength to your 
moral character by a temptation successfully 
resisted. 

School-days are a delightful period of life. 
I don't say that they are the happiest times 
you will ever see, for I do n't think that will be 
true ; but it is true that your happiness and ex- 
cellence as men depend greatly upon the use you 
make of your time while you are boys, for now 
you are building, habit by habit and thought 
by thought, the characters which you will have 
when you are men. So you should cherish now 
every generous aim and noble ambition which 
you would like to achieve as men, and scorn 
every mean and ignoble act now as cordially as 
you expect to do then, and practise every Chris- 
tian virtue now as heartily as you mean to do 
then ; and if you do these things you will be cer- 
tain of a life which will bring happiness to your- 
self and a blessing to every one with whom it 
comes in contact. 



ON TELLING THE TRUTH. 23 



ON TELLING THE TRUTH. 

They teach two things at West Point which 
I wish were taught with equal thoroughness in 
every school in the land. One is to love the 
flag of our country, and the other is to speak the 
truth. The word of a cadet is accepted always 
unquestionably, but if he is detected in a false- 
hood he is dismissed from the service; and it 
would be well for every school if all were gov- 
erned upon this point in a manner at once as 
trusting and as rigid. 

Sometimes there comes a crisis in a boy*s 
school or college life when a falsehood seems 
so easy and the truth so hard to tell — nobody 
knows how hard save the boy who has to tell 
it — ^that the sympathies of his friends would be 
very deep if they knew of the struggle ; and if 
by writing this article I could help any boy who 
is in such a strait, I should be very glad. 

Some time since- I heard a boy who was in 
college giving his brother an account of a recent 
college scrape from which he had wisely re- 
treated in time. 

" You see,*' said the narrator, whom we will 
call Don for the time of this story, "we had 
settled on that flight for 'the rush,' and Prex*' 
got hold of it in some way ; so he said in chapel 



24 TALKS TO BOYS. 

that morning that no member of the Sophomore 
class should be out that evening after eight 
o'clock without being able togive a satisfactory . •^i^'V*^ 
account of himself. If he was out and was recog- 
nized, he would be expelled." 

Now Don was at that time a Sophomore, and 
he was and is a lad with both a heart and a con- 
science, but he is so bubbling over with fun and 
brimming with life and vitality that his more 
valuable qualities are apt to be somewhat ob- 
scured. 

" Well," he went on, *' as soon as it got dark 
we rigged up so that it would n*t be quite so * 
easy for old Savage " (the college proctor) ** to 
spot us, and we went out on the campus. All the' 
fellows were there shrieking and howling and 
in for a good time, and we were just getting 
formed into line when I felt some one touch me 
on the shoulder, and there was old Savage. * Beg 

your pardon, Mr. B ,' says he as polite as you 

please, * but I must request you to go at once to 
your room and to stay there. If you do not I 
shall be obliged to report your name to the pres- 
ident, and you know what the consequences will 
be.* And he warned all of the other fellows, 
too, but some he did n't call by name. You see 
Prex had told him to give us one more chance. 
Of course we all scattered, and some of us went 
in. I did, but oh, how I did hate to! But I 



ON TELLING THE TRUTH. 2$ 

knew it would be sure death if I did not, for 
Savage had my name listed, and I thought of 
mother ; so I went up to my room and pegged 
away at my Greek all the evening. Some of the 
fellows came back later, and they were called 
before the Faculty and expelled, but there were 
a few that there was n't any proof positive about, 
and some of them lied out of it, and they stayed. 
Well," continued Don, sitting up and looking 
very earnest, " it was a falsehood they told, and 
no mistake. Every fellow in college knows it 
and Prex suspects it, but he can't prove it ; and I 
look at them as they are going about, and I 
think they must feel mighty mean. But the 
question is, if I had been in their fix would n't I 
have done the same ? I tell you when expulsion 
comes so near as that, it looks like a very serious 
business. You think of the folks at home and 
all the trouble there will be there, and you do n't 
have to tell on anybody else, you know. It is 
just to keep still about yourself, and it is very 
easy to do that and very hard to do the other 
thing. I 'm glad I did n't have to choose ; I 'm 
glad I went in when old Savage told me to." 

I thought then of another boy, whom I had 
known years ago, who had once to make that 
very choice, and who at the last moment chose 
the right and told the truth, though he then 
thought that it ruined his prospects for life. He 



26 TALKS TO BOYS. 

had with a number of others transgressed the 
rules of his college, and he was summoned be- 
fore the Faculty to answer the charges against 
him. A little deceit would have saved him, and 
one of the members of the Faculty, knowing it, 
suggested that he might not be reliable ; but the 
boy turned to the old president, a man whom the 
greatest madcap among them loved and honored, 
and said, " I have never told you a lie yet. Presi- 
dent F , aud I do n't mean to begin now." 

" That is quite sufficient," responded the pres- 
ident, who knew the nature with which he was 
dealing. "I believe you. Proceed with your storyV* 

The boy told it, was convicted, and expelled 
from the college. How he bore the shame and 
disgrace of that time he never could tell, but he 
was saved as by fire; and he left behind him 
with his college life his old foolish self and 
strove with all his might to make himself a 
noble man, and he succeeded. And I feel sure 
he would not have made the man he is to-day, 
had he remained in college through his own de- 
ception and graduated at the expense of a lie. 
But he won his manhood through a bitter strug- 
gle, which he need not have fought if he had 
bravely resisted that sudden, sharp temptation 
which wrecked his college life. 

I find that there are two morals to my talk 
this time. One is that it is never too late to 



ON SPENDING AND SAVING. 2^ 

mend. No matter how far you have gone astray, 
dare to turn around and do right at whatever 
cost, and you may be sure that it will be better 
for you both in this present life and in the life 
to come. And the second moral is — Do not do 
wrong in the first place. Never turn aside from 
the right track, for, after all, that is the nobler 
and wiser as well as the happier way. 



out SPENDING AND SAVING. 

I ONCE knew two brothers who went through 
college on exactly the same allowance. It was 
not an extravagant allowance, neither was it 
scanty, but "*twas enough, 'twould serve," if 
they were reasonably prudent. It was paid to 
each lad quarterly, and they were allowed to 
spend it just as they thought best. The elder 
lad was always well dressed, had sufficient books, 
his board-bill was promptly settled, and he al- 
ways had a surplus for amusements and inciden- 
tals. The other was apt to look rather shabby, 
and he always had hard work to make both ends 
meet. For about a week after quarter-day he 
lived in affluence; at the end of that time he 
would thrust his two fists into his empty pock- 
ets and inquire in blank despair, " Where does 
the money go to?" 



28 TALKS TO BOYS. 

" I Ve paid my paper bill and laundry bill/* 
he remarked on one occasion, " I Ve had a pair 
of shoes mended ; I Ve bought three neckties — I 
had to have them — and 'pon my word I Ve only 
got one dollar and sixty cents to last until next 
quarter-day." 

Ben was a very bright and charming fellow 
and a great favorite with his class, and when his 
check was cashed and the bills stowed away in 
his pocket, his first words were, " Come, fellows,** 
and he would crack his first ten-dollar note in a 
treat. After that the bills would fly away right 
and left, some in perhaps a beautifully bound 
book or good engraving, or they would go in any 
amount of boyish trinkets, such as Russia leath- 
er card-cases, silver match-safes, elegant pen- 
knives, or the like. His father said nothing, for 
he had observed that in this case talking did no 
good, and he felt that experience must now be 
the teacher ; and so it came to pass that Ben was 
stranded in the middle of a term, and left, as he 
expressed it, "gasping high and dry on the 
bank.** He wrote to his father asking if he 
might draw a part of his next quarter's allow- 
ance in advance, but his father said, " No ; what 
your brother Robert found to be sufficient you 
must make do.** 

He went to Rob, and RobQenJJiim ten dol- 
lars, which helped him for the moment; and 



ON SPENDING AND SAVING. 29 

then Ben went to his room and for the first 
time examined his accounts and faced the sit- 
uation. He was in debt, and deeply in debt 
for the size of his income. His whole coming 
quarter's allowance would not cover his liabili- 
ties. He recalled more than one warning of his 
father's on the subject of indebtedness, and he 
began to realize that he had behaved in a very 
dishonorable manner, for he knew that his fa- 
ther gave him all the money he could afford. 
He sat staring at the opposite wall, where hung 
a pretty little etching which was his last extrav- 
agance, and wondered what he should do. His 
father clearly would not help him, and could not 
in justice if he would. And Ben was quite at the 
end of his rope. But he had good stuff in him. 
When he had been made to stop and think, he 
thought to some purpose. All at once he started 
as if he had been stung, and springing up, he 
began to walk rapidly up and down the room 
with his brows knit. " 1 11 do it," he said, and 
crushing on his hat he ran down stairs and out 
of doors with an air of great resolution. 

The fact was that the proprietor of the steam 
laundry which he patronized had asked him a 
few days before if he knew of any student who 
would like to keep his books for him. The 
hours of work were from seven to nine in the 
evening, and the compensation was fair; and 



30 TALKS TO BOYS. 

Ben put his pride in his pocket, applied for this 
situation, and got it. Great was the astonish- 
ment of his mates at this singular move of his, 
but he persevered and earned the money, and 
with it he succeeded in paying his debts ; and by 
the end of the year he could look his father in 
the eyes without any shame or trouble, for he 
stood fair and square with all the world. 

But there are many other things in this world 
beside money which can be saved or spent. 
Many a lad needs to think of how he spends his 
time. 

This same Ben — who I may as well admit is 
one of my "best boys,*' in spite of his faults — 
sometimes remarks that "Punctuality is the 
thief of time !'* " Look at Rob," he says ; " he is 
always there. He was never known to be late at 
a class or a lecture or a committee meeting in 
his life. But think of the things he misses be- 
cause he is always in such a tearing hurry, 
while I acquire quantities of information sim- 
ply by keeping my eyes open and taking things 
easy. Depend upon it, the * fetlock ' is the place 
to take old Time by, instead of snatching the 
hair off his head as some folks do.'* 

Nevertheless Master Ben is finding out that 
if he ever makes a mark in the world he cannot 
indulge in a wasteful extravagance of time any 
more than he can of money, and I am glad to 



.ON PLAIN ENGLISH. 3 1 

see that he is settling down to his working life 
quietly, patiently, and perseveringly. 

These things will bear thinking about, and ^ 
the boy who spends not only his money, but his j 
time, prudently is really braver as well as better -^ 
than those who do not. 



ON PLAIN ENGLISH. 

Not very long since o^e of my boy friends 
dropped in, as he is apt to do in vacation, to 
spend an hour or so with me. I have known 
him ever since he was a little fellow, but since 
he has been away at school I have not seen so 
much of him. On the afternoon of which I 
speak he began to talk to me about his school 
life, and I should have been very glad to listen 
if I had been able to understand him ; but two 
years of school, while it may have improved his 
Latin and Greek, seemed to have quite bereft 
him of the power of using plain English. His 
father and mother are people of cultivation and 
refinement, and during his childhood he had 
been used to '"hearing the English language 
spoken with great purity ; but his conversation 
on this occasion was so corrupted with slang 
that I was obliged to interrupt him frequently 
to ask him what certain expressions meant, and 



32 TALKS TO BOYS. 

I noticed that he had some difl&culty in telling 
me. The only synonyms which occurred to his 
mind were other slang words or phrases which 
were quite as unintelligible to me as the first. 
He seemed rather embarrassed by his difficul- 
ties and said he " never could talk, anyhow, un- 
less he was with a lot of fellows. He didn't 
know how to talk to other people." 

It seemed rather a pity for a bright young 
lad of sixteen to have to confess such a thing, 
and what made the case peculiar was that he 
was one of the best orators of his school, and he 
had just written and delivered a prize oration 
which was excellent ; but the trouble was that 
he had allowed himself to talk in such a slip- 
shod manner among his mates for so long that 
he was unable to express himself properly in 
ordinary conversation. 

I was talking with a certain liberal professor 
of English literature once on this subject, and 
he remarked that "slang ought not to be 
frowned down altogether, for the language is 
constantly being enriched by new words and 
expressions which were once called slang, but 
are now by common consent considered correct 
English. The words and phrases which are 
worthless will be cast aside, and those which 
are valuable will in a few years be incorporated 
into the language and be in constant use.'* 



ON PLAIN ENGLISH. 33 

I smiled and said, " Perhaps you are right." 
But when a lad " enriches '* his mother tongue 
to such an extent that middle-aged people can- 
not understand him, when he uses slang without 
knowing it and makes slang words and phrases 
the chief part of his vocabulary, he makes a 
mistake, for he defiles the wells of pure English 
from which he might draw to suit his needs, and 
which are a rich inheritance to him from the 
great storehouse of the past ; and while I should 
be the last to repress those witty and forcible 
expressions which boys have a genius for coin- 
ing, and which, as the professor remarked, are 
of genuine value, I cannot but think that there 
is a great deal of slang which is both vulgar and 
meaningless and which it is a great pity for any 
boy to make use of. 

There is another point to which it is well to 
pay attention. Very few of us take the trouble 
to pronounce correctly even if we know how. 
Just watch yourself a little and see whether 
you say w}^ or wAj^; and do you always say 
andy or do you sometimes say an; and do you 
invariably sound your tng-'s distinctly, or do 
you defraud the endings of their rightful g-'s? 
Many people, if they should see the words they 
use written as they speak them, would be 
shocked indeed, and it is only because we are 
more used to hearing incorrect English spoken 

Tftlki To Boyi. 1 



34 TALKS TO BOYS. 

than we are to seeing it written, that we do not 
notice our mistakes. It is only after hearing it 
spoken by a master that we realize what a noble 
and beautiful tongue our English is. It is gen- 
erally conceded that there is no lan^age which 
is at once so copious, so flexible, and so suited 
for the expression of ideas; and yet there are 
many people whose mother tongue it is, and 
who speak it all their days, who never realize 
its worth and who go through life poverty- 
stricken for want of words with which to ex- 
press their thoughts, their feelings, and their 
desires. 



ON WEAK POINTS. 

Last holidays, when the Academy term was 
ended, I asked Harry how he ranked. 

"Well," said he, "my average is only fair, 
for though I am well up in my languages, yet I 
do so hate mathematics that I am always at the 
very bottom of the class with them, so, of course, 
that pulls down my general average; but in 
Latin'* — and he smiled gayly — "I am leading 
the crowd." 

" Then you really enjoy the languages ?" said 
I, " and they come easy to you ?" 

"Oh, yes,'* he answered readily, "I like 
them ever so much." 



ON WEAK POINTS. 35 

"Which do you give the most time to," I 
asked, "your Latin or your Algebra?" 

"Why, my Latin, of course," he answered, 
surprised. "I wont bother about my Algebra 
any more than I must." 

"Ah, but you are making a mistake," said I. 
"It is precisely because you don't like it and 
do n*t take to it naturally that you ought to cul- 
tivate it. You should spend three times as 
much time on your Algebra as you do on your 
Latin. You have as much sense as the average 
boy, and if you would apply yourself you could 
comprehend mathematics as well as any one; 
your brain needs just that clear and exact 
habit of thought which can be cultivated by a 
mathematical training and nothing else, and 
you will miss it all your life if you do not take 
it now while you can get it." 

But Harry hopelessly shook his head. "I 
can never do anjrthing at it ; it is no use to try." 

"Harry," said I, "you began to tell me a 
little while since of that friend of yours with 
the weak chest, and how slender and round- 
shouldered he was when he began at the 
Academy, and you said he had no muscle what- 
ever ; and you told me how he took to practising 
every day in the gymnasium with the rowing- 
machine and with boxing-gloves. Seems to me 
that was very silly for a fellow like him." 



36 TALKS TO BOYS. 

" Why, no," answered Harry, alert in a min- 
ute, for he admires " muscle " above all things. 
"Why, no. You just ought to see him now. 
His chest has expanded five inches, and his 
biceps — ^they are as hard as rocks, and he is as 
straight in the back as anybody. It was just 
the thing for him." 

" Exactly," I answered, smiling, " and I wish 
that you would show as much sense in the train- 
ing of your mind as your friend has in the train- 
ing of his body. You would find the results 
quite as admirable if you would treat your brain 
to a course of mathematical athletics. You 
would find that portion of your brain-cells which 
you would be forced to use improved, strength- 
ened, and quickened by use quite as much as 
the flaccid muscles of your friend's body were 
improved by his exercise." 

My boys who read this, I "do n't know what 
your weak points may be, but I know that you 
have them, for there never was a character in 
this world — save One — that was perfectly sym- 
metrical and strong at every point. But this I 
do know, that it is possible for you to make 
your weak point, whatever it may be, the very 
strongest point of your character, for there you 
know that you are liable to be tempted ; so there 
you can be perpetually on guard, so that it will 
be impossible for the enemy to surprise you. 



THE SOUL OF HONOR. 37 

and there — God helping you — you can always 
win the fight. 



THE SOUL OF HONOR. 

There is a certain quality of the moral na- 
ture which is called honor. The dictionary de- 
fines it as " true nobleness of mind, springing 
from probity, principle, or moral rectitude,** and 
calls it " a distinguishing characteristic of good 
men.*' Such a quality will bear thinking about 
a little. 

The other day a certain wealthy gentleman, 
speaking of a young man in his employ, said, " I 
would trust him with every dollar I possess. 
He is the soul of honor.** 

These were not idle words, for I knew he 
was in the habit of confiding to that young man 
large business interests which involved a great 
deal of capital; I knew, too, that he had no 
security for his money ; he " trusted him.** 

Once in a large boys' school a disturbance 
occurred which involved nearly a whole class. 
The master sent for the principal of the school. 
He entered the room and listened to the teach- 
er*s account of the trouble; then, glancing 
around at the pupils, he said, " I should like to 
know exactly how this happened, so I will ask 
Fred B to tell me.*' 



38 



TALKS TO BOYS. 



Fred stood up and related the occurrence 
from beginning to end clearly and fairly, na- 
ming no names, but taking bis share of the 
blame, and then sat down. 

" Now,'* said the principal, " I should like the 
other boys who have been implicated in this 
trouble to follow Fred's example and acknowl- 
edge it as he has done.*' And the other lads 
arose and owned up also. 

Afterwards in speaking of the affair the^ 
principal said, " I knew I could rely upon Fred 
to tell me the exact truth without fear or favor, 
for though he may be led astray in a moment of j^ ^ 
excitement, he is always willing to acknowledge A 
when he has done wrong. There is nothing/ 
underhanded or mean about him. I have tried/ 
him and tested him often, and he is regarded by 
both his classmates and teachers as the soul of 
honor." 

It is somewhat rare, and it certainly is a 
very beautiful thing, to have a reputation such 
as this young man possessed, and it is some- 
thing worth striving one's whole life long to 
win ; and yet such a character is built of very 
little things. Many people who would indig- 
nantly deny that they ever told a falsehood, 
nevertheless seem quite incapable of relating a 
thing exactly as it occurred. They will either 
enlarge or detract or vary the statement in some 



0ii 



THE SOUL OF HONOR. 39 

way, so that their words are not reliable. And 
many a lad in business who would not take a 
dollar from his firm unlawfully, will yet take 
that firm's stamps and letter-paper for his pri- 
vate correspondence. The firm will never feel 
it, it is true, but that lad's character will feel it ; 
and the boy who habitually does such things 
will in the end find his conscience so blunted 
that dishonesty will come easy to him, and he 
will not be able to withstand some sudden, 
sharp temptation, and he will fall. Those who 
do not know him well will be surprised; but 
those who know his real life will know that for 
years his character has been undermined by 
trifling deceptions and dishonesties, just as the 
ocean slowly encroaches upon a sandy shore, 
and at last, during some terrible storm, when 
the wind is raging, it will gather itself in its 
might and wash inland, bearing devastation and 
death and changing the whole face of the 
country. 

The lad who cheats a little in his games or 
remains silent while others cheat ; he who learns 
his lessons with a " crib," or takes his diagrams 
or dates into class upon his cuffs, or gets his 
answers from his neighbor — yes, and the boy 
who gives such unlawful help too — ^they are dis- 
honorable boys, and it would be better for them 
if they had never been bom than to live on and 



40 TALKS TO BOYS. 

grow up and carry into life such principles as 
these. But no boy means to do that. He means 
to do it " just once," because he is hard pressed 
for some reason. Think a minute. Did you 
never do it but once? The boy who does it 
once is very apt to do it again, and to go on 
doing such things until they become the habit 
and practice of his life. Therefore a boy should 
be very watchful that no petty deceit or dishon- 
esty ever stains his life, and to behave in all 
things so truly and so nobly that those who 
know him best and love him dearest can proudly 
and gladly say of him, " He is the soul of 
honor." 



WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO DO IT. 

The best book of all to read is of course the 
Bible. It is the most interesting book in the 
world. Almost any one would admit that, and 
yet I know that if I should put the question 
"honor bright" to some of the boys who read 
this article, they would answer honestly that 
they do not think so. This is partly because 
they have not learned to read the Bible prop- 
erly. 

Many people read the Bible in a piecemeal 
sort of way, a chapter every night before they 
go t6 bed, and they bring up their children to 



WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO DO IT. 4I 

do the same. Now a few verses from the Bible 
are a very good thing to go to sleep on, but one 
will never get a real knowledge of the book by 
reading it in that way only. Such reading is 
for rest and comfort, but it is not for informa- 
tion. And how many of you who read in that 
fashion remember from one night to another 
what you read ? The end of a chapter does not 
by any means necessarily conclude the subject 
of which it treats, or even indicate a good place 
for stopping, for the narrative or argument may 
be continued through several ghapters, or in- 
deed to the end of the book. You should give 
the Bible as fair a chance to interest you as you 
give any other book, and any other book you 
read connectedly from beginning to end. Sup- 
pose next Sunday afternoon when you are nei- 
ther tired nor sleepy, but when you feel just in 
the mood for a good comfortable read, instead of 
taking up your Sunday-school book or a reli- 
gious paper, you settle yourself with your Bible 
and read the Acts of the Apostles from the first 
verse to the last, and when you have finished it 
you will have a realizing sense of the courage 
and devotion of the men whom Christ chose to 
plant his church; and Peter and Paul and 
James and John will seem like live men to you, 
and real heroes too, and you will want to trace 
their lives from beginning to end. 



42 TALKS TO BOYS. 

By reading a book through you get a clear 
idea of the author's design, and you are able to 
appreciate the beauty and force of the language 
which he uses. 

Another good way to read the Bible is to 
take it by subjects. The Old Testament biog- 
raphies are exceedingly interesting. Take the 
life of Moses or Joseph or David and read it 
through, and you will be sure to like it. After 
you have once begun to enjoy the Bible I am 
sure you will never leave oflf. You will read it 
more and love it better and better the longer 
you live, and the better you become acquainted 
with it the more you will wonder at its inex- 
haustible riches. 

After the Bible the next best thing for a boy 
to read is a good newspaper. Newspapers are 
the publishers of modern history. They bring 
the history of our own times to us every morn- 
ing, and every great question which affects the 
welfare of mankind is reflected in them. It is 
not necessary to read about the commitment of 
horrible crimes or the execution of criminals, or 
topics of that nature, but you do want to know 
about the history of the last strike, for instance, 
because it concerns the great struggle between 
capital and labor which you are to help decide 
in a few years. You should keep track of the 
doings of Congress and the gist of the Presi- 



WHAT^TO READ AND HOW TO READ. 43 

dent's messages and international legislation, 
and foreign topics you should not miss. Think 
of the things which have happened abroad this 
past year, the centennial jubilees, the death of 
kings and eminent statesmen. One cannot pass 
these things by. Besides all this, the latest dis- 
coveries in every science are reported in the 
newspapers, the explorations of unknown coun- 
tries are mirrored there, descriptions of the best 
and newest works in literature, in music, are in 
its columns, and to read the newspapers is in 
itself a liberal education. Therefore I would 
advise every boy who is too busy to give much 
attention to general literature, to read carefully 
the news of the day, for if he does he cannot 
fail of being an intelligent man, and then, when 
a time of leisure comes, he will have an excel- 
lent foundation to build upon when he is able 
to cultivate his mind more thoroughly. 



WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO READ. 

What books should our boys read? That is 
a wide question. There are quantities of charm- 
ing books now-a-days which are published on 
purpose for young people, many of which are 
both delightful and instructive. Dear old " Tom 
Brown at Rugby,** for instance, is one of the 



44 TALKS TO BOYS. 

best of friends and companions for any boy. 
But I should not advise a boy to depend upon 
this class of literature. I believe in reading 
for profit as well as for pleasure, and the best 
results will be obtained by cultivating an ac- 
quaintance with general English literature. 

There are three sorts of boys in this world : 
those with a healthy appetite for good whole- 
some reading, which they take to as naturally 
as they do to beefsteak and potatoes : and those 
who because of various circumstances have not 
been thrown much with books and who think \ 
that they do not like to read, though they really J 
do not know whether they do or not ; and lastly,/ 
those whose taste has become vitiated by read- 
ing the trashy, exciting, cheap literature which 
has inundated the country like a flood, until 
other books seem stale and flat to them. Now 
this article is chiefly for the two latter sorts of 
boys, and for the last mentioned class I am par- 
ticularly sorry, because they are not very well in 
their minds, and I would like to cure them if I 
could. I wish I could make every boy who 
reads this understand the unspeakable delight 
which comes from reading a good book ; then I 
should be sure that whatever else might fail 
him in the way of earthly joys, he would be 
sure of one great happiness and consolation. 

Boys who are in business particularly need 



WHAT TO READ AND HOW TO READ. 45 

to cultivate the habit of reading because they 
are apt to leave school early, and if they are 
not careful they will become so absorbed in 
the fierce competition which now characterizes 
all sorts of business that by the time they are 
twenty-five they will care for nothing else, and 
by the time they are fifty they will be in the 
condition of a poor man whom I once knew, 
who, broken in health, but with more money 
than he could use, still dragged himself daily 
to business and went on making more, because, 
as he pitifully remarked, he did not know what 
else to do. 

"But," says my business boy, who works 
nights during the busy season and who does n't 
like reading, "do you suppose that I could 
study English literature ?" 

Certainly I do. A boy who can spare on 
an average an hour a day for reading will 
be able to read a good deal in the course of the 
year. x 

" But," says my boy who does n't like read- J 
ing, " I can't bear poetry." ^ 

When a boy says that to me I always try 
him with " Horatius at the Bridge," or Tenny- 
son's ballad of "The Revenge." If he does 
not like either of those poems I conclude that 
he is right in his own estimate of his taste ; but 
I never met a boy who did not like such poetry. 



46 TALKS TO BOYS, 

" Well/' says my boy again, " history is aw- 
fully dull. I never can remember the dates." 

But, I answer, you can remember the cen- 
tury in which the events occurred, and that 
will do very well. Try it with Green's "Shorter 
History of the English People," and see if you 
cannot. For essays, try Charles Dudley War- 
ner's "Being a Boy," and you will discover 
that an essay is not necessarily a dull and unin- 
teresting thing, "as dry as a chip," as many a 
boy supposes. For biographies take, perhaps, 
James T. Fields' "Yesterdays With Authors," 
or Noah Brooks' "Historic Boys," or "Sea 
Kings and Naval Heroes," by J. G. Edgar, and 
for a story of travel and adventure take Lieut. 
Greely's " Three Years of Arctic Service." 
You will not understand all of the scientific 
allusions, but if your heart does not beat fast 
by the time you have finished reading how 
Lieut. Lockwood with his two devoted com- 
panions won the "Farthest North," then you 
are not the boy I take you for. For novels 
there is gallant Sir Walter Scott, one of my 
childhood's very best friends. If you do not 
know him, you had best read "Ivanhoe" right 
away. 

The best short story that I know of for boys 
is Edward Everett Hale's "Man Without a 
Country." 



ON SELF-CONTROL. 47 

And now, my boy who " does n't like to read/' 
if you should read one of the articles or books 
in each class which I have named, do you real- 
ize that you would have had a taste of history, 
biography, essays, poetry, and novels? and these 
are the component parts of general English lit- 
erature. And after having taken a taste you will 
discover that the table is spread and you have 
only to help yourself wisely and judiciously to 
whatever you please ; and the habit of reading 
good books when once formed, besides giving 
a great deal of pleasure, cannot fail to make 
you a cultivated man, whether you have had 
the advantage of being trained in the schools 
or not. 



ON SELF-CONTROL 

There is no quality which a boy admires 
more than that of self-control, and it is right to 
admire it, for it is only the man who has con- 
trol of himself that can control others and can 
be of value and service to the community in 
which he lives. 

No one can hear untouched such a story, for 
instance, as that of the English troopship which 
sprung aleak, and the officers and men, when 
they found they could not save her, safely and 
quickly transferred their wives and children to 



48 TALKS TO BOYS. 

the boats, and then, drawn up at quarters, each 
man at his post, quietly and calmly went down 
with the ship, content with having saved the 
lives which were dearer to them than their own. 

The heroic endurance of pain, the ready wit 
in an emergency, the lightning-like quickness 
of thought which plans and the steady hand 
which executes a rescue, such traits command 
the respect and admiration of every one, and 
every boy wishes that he could possess them. 
Boys, and older people too, are apt to think 
that these qualities are an especial gift, like a 
genius for music or art, and that no one can 
behave in this way unless it is, as the phrase 
goes, "bom in him." It is true that to some 
self-control comes easier than to others, but it 
is without doubt a quality which can be culti- 
vated. You can have it or not as you choose. 

A friend of mine who was a volunteer dur- 
ing the late war, though at that time he was 
scarcely more than a lad, was relating to a few 
friends something of his experience. He is one 
of the most quiet, retiring, and gentle of men, 
not at all a man whom one would suspect of 
having soldier stuff in him. 

"Were you never afraid?** some one asked 
him curiously. 

" Yes,** he answered frankly, " I was always 
afraid. I never went into a fight in my life 



J 



ON SELF-CONTROL. 49 

that I did not tremble just in the beginning, 
and any minute I would have been glad to 
run for old Vermont. But," with a little smile, 
" I did n*t do it. I suppose/' he continued, turn- 
ing to me, " that you would call me a coward." 

"If you had run away," I answered, "per- 
haps I should ; but my idea of a brave man is, 
not one who does not know the meaning of the 
word fear, but rather one who knows the feel- 
ing, and who conquers it, and does his duty 
just the same." 

I could not say to his face what I knew to 
be a fact, that he had won promotion three 
times for conspicuous gallantry upon the field 
of battle, and that he had inspired his meu 
with such confidence in him that they would 
follow anywhere he led. 

Therefore if a boy feels that he is lacking in 
self-control, the best thing he can do is to prac- 
tise it every chance he gets. There are several 
young men of my acquaintance who faint at 
the sight of blood, and when thero is an ac- 
cident in their vicinity they every one of them 
get out of the way, because if they are called 
upon to help they may drop at just the most 
critical minute. They all regard the trait as 
constitutional, but it is my belief that if they 
would exert their will power sufficiently they 
could conquer their infirmity. 

Talks To Boyi. A 



50 TALKS TO BOYS. 

There is nothing more desirable than the 
ability to keep cool in case of an accident, and 
it is well to have some idea of what to do until 
the doctor comes. There are several excellent 
little books which are printed for this purpose. 
After he comes, do exactly what he tells you. 
He will never ask you to do anything which 
you cannot do if you pay strict attention, con- 
trol yourself, and try. 

The best way to maintain self-control in an 
emergency is to always keep control of your- 
self when there is no emergency; that is, to 
practise it all the time, for one has plenty of 
opportunity in every-day life. Keep your tem- 
per through every game, no matter how ex- 
citing. When some one else wins the prize 
which you have been striving for during the 
whole term, shake hands with the victor anA 
say, "I*m glad you have won it." If a sudden \ L 

insult comes, which seems to make every drop \ (^ 
of blood in your body boil indignantly to the \ ^ 
surface, clinch your teeth until you can answer j 
calmly, or do not speak at all. Never allow / 
yourself to become so excited that you do not / 
know what you are about. Train the hands / 
and feet and eyes and brain to constantly/ 
serve you well, and then they will not fail you( 
in time of trouble; and you will find that in 
sudden need, instead of being paralyzed with 



WHICH WAS THE BRAVER? 5 1 

fright and helpless, you can think and act with 
a quickness and capacity which, when it is all 
over, will seem surprising, even to yourself ; or 
if it should be your lot to bear instead of to do, 
you can endure with a composure which will be 
a comfort to yourself and to all of your friends. 



WHICH WAS THE BRAVER? 

They were looking at the ice on the river 
one day early in the winter. The ponds were 
frozen and the Branch was frozen, but no one 
yet had had a skate on the deep and rapid 
river, and all the boys were aching to try it. 
It lay before them frozen from shore to shore, 
a smooth expanse of dark and glassy ice, most 
tempting to the sight of any boy, and to the 
little gfroup of lads who stood eying it it was 
almost irresistible. They had been skating on 
the Branch, so they had their skates in their 
hands, and every now and then one of them 
would venture out upon the ice and stamp 
about to try it. At last one lad came back from 
one of these short excursions. 

"Pooh!" said he stamping, "it's safe, safe 
enough for an elephant, and I am going to try 
it. I dare any one of you fellows to skate across 
with me. Dare, dare, double dare you, Fritz 



52 TALKS TO BOYS. 

Ward, to do it," and down he sat to put on his 
skates. "What!" 6aid Jack, "nobody coming? 
Not you, Fritz Ward? The champion skater 
of the town refuses. Well, well !" 

" No, I 'm not going," answered Fritz. 

But his refusal was not because he was 
afraid or because he did not want to go, for 
he was all eagerness to be oflf; but he had 
promised his mother that he would not go on 
the river until it had been pronounced perfectly 
safe, and he never yet had broken his word to 
her, and that was all that held him. 

Jack was cutting airy circles near the shore 
and watching them, smiling. 

"Well, good-by, 'fraid cats," said he, and 
giving his hand a little mocking flourish, off 
he flew straight towards the middle of the river, 
and his light, boyish figure seemed to skim the 
ice like a bird ; but light as he was, it bent be- 
neath him as he sped. The lads on the bank 
saw it and cried, "Come back," but he never 
heeded, in fact he was afraid to turn, and in 
another instant down he went. His comrades 
stared as if they were dreaming at that little 
black hole in the ice where Jack went down; 
and though those boys now are middle-aged 
men, yet they can shut their eyes, any one 
of them to-day, and see again that snow-clad 
shining landscape, and the gleaming river with 



WHICH WAS THE BRAVER? 53 

that little black hole in it well out towards 
the middle. It was but an instant when they 
saw Jack's head once more, and his face was 
turned towards them. He threw his arms out 
on to the ice and it broke beneath his weight, 
but before he sank he grasped it again with his 
other arm and it bore him for a moment, only 
to break again, but it brought him a little 
nearer to his friends. Instantly he compre- 
hended what he had to do. He had to break 
his way bit by bit through the ice across that 
dreadful river. His friends could not help him, 
so like the gallant lad he was, he fought on inch 
by inch for his life, while his friends on shore 
cheered him all they could. 

" Fellows,*' said Fritz Ward, watching him 
keenly, "he will never reach us without help; 
take oflf your comforters" — ^they all wore gay 
worsted scarfs knotted around their necks, and 
each of them was fully two yards long. " Knot 
them together tightly," Fritz continued. "I 
know the bottom here, and I am going out as 
far as I can to meet him. I shall throw him 
these and you must help me. I am going in 
up to my waist, and you must all throw your- 
selves on your faces and work yourselves out 
one after the other. Each fellow hang on to 
the other, and you, Joe Anderson, come next 
to me and steady me." 



54 TALKS TO BOYS. 

It was planned and done in a minute. Fritz, 
with, the coil of comforters ten yards long, went 
out until the ice cracked beneath him, and then 
he let himself down into the water. Joe An- 
derson, who was the lightest boy there, had cau- 
tiously worked himself out and lay near enough 
to give a steadying hand to Fritz, who was in 
up to his arm-pits, but his arms were free. 

"Just a little nearer, old boy," shouted Fritz 
to Jack, " and 1 11 throw it," and poor Jack 
struggled a moment more. " Now," cried Fritz, 
and threw the rope, and the end lay well within 
Jack's reach. He grasped it and Fritz drew 
him inch by inch through the splintering ice 
until he had him by the collar; then the ice 
broke under Joe and let him down, but he 
landed on his feet, and together he and Fritz 
tied one end of the comforters under Jack's 
arms and tossed the other end to the other 
boys. Then somehow they got him on to the 
ice, and the other boys pulled him cautiously 
ashore. After that Fritz and Joe were helped 
out, and the dry boys piled their overcoats on 
to the wet boys, and they took Jack, who was 
by that time quite unconscious, safe home. 

When Jack was convalescing from his at- 
tack of pneumonia the first boy he wanted to 
see was Fritz. He held out his hand to him 
with a smile. 



WHICH WAS THE BRAVER? 55 

•'Old boy/* said he, "if it hadn't been for 
you I wouldn't be here." 

"Pshaw!" answered Fritz, "it was the com- 
forters did the business." 

"Ah!" said Jack, "the comforters were a 
very good thing, but I would never have got 
hold of them if it hadn't been for you. You 
need not try to get out of it. If you hadn't 
been as quick as thought and chock full of 
pluck beside, I wouldn't be in this world now. 
And the sense you 've got too, Frit^," Jack went 
on reflectively; "first time I ever knew you not 
to take a dare. How did it happen?" 

"Oh," answered Fritz, laughing, "that was 
not any sense of mine. I would have been 
after you fast enough if I had n't promised my 
mother that I wouldn't go on the river that 
day." 

"Well," said Jack, "my old doctor says there 
is a difference between courage and foolhardi- 
ness, and it is pretty plain which quality he 
thinks I have shown the most of recently ; but 
in the future I am going to keep what little 
courage I have left to use when it is needed, 
instead of fooling it away in such a scrape as 
this." 

All this happened years ago, but the lesson 
Jack then learned has never been forgotten. 
He has had plenty of battles to fight since 



56 TALKS TO BOYS. 

then, and he has fought them bravely ; but his 
old foolhardy, daring ways, which so threatened 
to injure his character, he left behind him for- 
ever on that terrible day when he fell through 
the ice into Green River. 



A DANGER SIGNAL 

Once, when I was a little girl, I took a drive 
that I shall never forget. A party of us were 
going to attend the commencement exercises of 
a college which was situated about three miles 
from the town in which we lived. Our own car- 
riage was filled with gfuests and driven away, 
and my mother and I accepted seats in the car- 
riage of a neighbor. This neighbor's horses 
were a pair of frisky young colts — beautiful, 
spirited creatures — not long since broken to the 
harness, and the gentleman who undertook to 
drive us was a friend from a distance who was 
little accustomed to the management of horses; 
but no trouble was apprehended, as the horses 
were not at all vicious and the roads were excel- 
lent. We had proceeded only a short distance, 
however, when we noticed that the horses did 
not go with their usual fine, steady gait They 
began to prance and fret and to act decidedly 
nervous. Our driver only irritated them by his 



A DANGER SIGNAL. 57 

efforts to control them, and at last they broke 
away and dashed into a run. My mother 
clasped me close as we whirled along, the light 0^3 4 (,. 
buggy swaying and rocking dangerously over ^^-''A/e,*^ 
every inequality of the road, when suddenly, ?*•* ^•"^^'^^ 
just as we were giving ourselves up for lost, a . , '^^^ 
young fellow with the figure of an athlete — iX5S 
sprang out from the roadside, seized the horses ^ 'y***^ 
by their heads, and with one powerful move-^^^^M^^^- 
ment turned them toward the fence and stopped ZZIJ^l 
them. They were quivering in every nerve, JLe^-^-^t^t^ 
and with the touch and tone of a bom horseman 
he began to soothe them, meanwhile examining 
the harness with a knowing eye. 

"Why," said he, "these horses are hitched 
up wrong. It is no wonder they ran away." 
And he began altering straps and buckles to 
rectify the mistake. 

By this time the horses were much quieted 
and my mother had recovered herself, and she 
called the young gentleman to her side. I shall 
never forget his bright, gallant face and his 
noble bearing as he came forward to receive 
the thanks with which she overwhelmed him. 
My mother then took me on her lap, and our 
preserver, seating himself beside us, drove us 
safely to the college. 

This was the beginning of our acquaintance 
with this young man, and it will not harm him 



58 TALKS TO BOYS. 

now if I give the history of that acquaintance 
until its close. It may perhaps serve as a sort of 
danger signal to some other young man who 
is possessed of a similar temperament and who 
is beginning to travel in the way he went. Let 
us call him for the time of this story Harry Bel- 
den. 

After the college exercises were concluded 
my mother spoke to the president, who was an 
old and much valued friend of our family, and 
related our adventure, and spoke in warm terms 
of our preserver. 

" Ah," responded he, " it was Harry Belden, 
was it? I wish, Mrs. H , that you would in- 
vite him to your house." 

" I have already done so," said my mother, 
somewhat surprised. " He is coming to t;ea to- 
morrow evening." 

" He is the son of my old friend Horace 

Belden, of L ," explained the president, 

speaking somewhat gravely. " He is to spend 
his vacation with me at my house, and next fall 
he enters college. The fact is, he is somewhat 
dissipated, and I have promised my friend Bel- 
den to do what I can for him, so he is to be 
under my own eye, and we hope a good deal 
from a quiet country life. He's a charming 
fellow, charming," he added emphatically, " and 
he is too young to be lost. I shall be glad for 



A DANGER SIGNAL. 59 

him to have your house to go to, for it is a 
cheerful place, and he will enjoy it.*' 

Every tender feeling in my mother's heart 
was roused for this young fellow who had saved 
her life and that of her child, and yet was so 
near to making shipwreck of his own. She and 
my father made him thoroughly welcome at our 
home, and as the president had prophesied, he 
did enjoy it. My two young lady aunts who 
resided with us filled the house with life and 
gayety, and Harry Belden's frequent visits made 
the bright summer days seem brighter still. He 
was indeed a " charming fellow," bubbling over 
with wit and mirth, generous, kind-hearted, and 
obliging, and gifted with a handsome face and 
manners of a thorough gentleman. I do not 
think that in all his life he had known, or that 
he ever did know in after years, the sensation of 
physical fear. A thing to be really enjoyable to 
him must have a spice of danger; a situation 
that would justly alarm another but produced a 
sense of exhilaration in him. It was but a pleas- 
urable excitement. It brought his "blood up," 
as he himself expressed it, and then whose foot 
so fleet, whose hand so firm, whose nerve so 
steady as his ? Of course, possessing such a dis- 
position, he excelled in all manly exercises. A 
good shot, a fine rider, an excellent swimmer, 
and devoted to athletic games, in all these 



6o TALKS TO BOYS. 

things he was more than fine, he was recklessly 
daring. But, alas! this craving for excitement 
was his ruin ; it made all simple, normal pleas- 
ures seem dull and tame, and he turned to 
intoxicating drink for satisfaction. He under- 
stood the danger he was in and appreciated 

President F 's efforts in his behalf. June 

and July had gone by, and the last days of Au- 
gust were come, and still Harry Belden had 
made no slip from the right path, and his friends 
were hoping that a reform had really begfun. 
But, alas! one August evening he did not return 
home as usual; nine, ten o'clock passed, and 

still he did not come. Then President F 

drove down to the town and instituted a search 
through its liquor saloons, and in one of them 
Harry Belden was discovered almost dead drunk. 
He was assisted into the buggy and taken home 
and cared for by his kind friend. When he 
came to himself he was very penitent, and the 
grief and disappointment of the dear old " Prex," 
as the boys all called him, affected him greatly. 

"I'm not worth it, sir," he said to him. 
** You would much better let me go." 

But President F would not let him go ; 

he called upon him by every sense of duty and 
honor that he possessed to fight the demon 
which had conquered him, and he promised to 
try again. Perhaps the most discouraging thing 



A DANGER SIGNAL. 6 1 

about him was the ready way in which he would 
promise to cooperate with any eflEorts which were 
made for his reform; for with the first sharp 
temptation he would break every promise, and 
yield apparently without an effort. Autumn 
came and the students returned to college, and 
Harry joined the Sophomore class. He proved to 
have a quick and retentive mind, and the presi- 
dent hoped that the necessity of steady and regu- 
lar work would be of benefit to him ; but far from 
it. As soon as the novelty of his position had 
faded he began to associate with the worst char- 
acters of the class, and one night under his lead- 
ership they indulged in a wine supper, which 
ended in such a scene of debauchery as was a 
disgrace to the whole college. This could not 
be overlooked ; it was a case for expulsion, and 
Harry knew it. 

"It's no use, sir,*' said he to the president. 
" I told you so months ago ; but do n't think that 
I do not remember your kindness to me. I do 
though I have abused it so shamefully." 

Harry Belden went home to his parents, and 
we never saw him again ; but the rest of his sad 
story can be told in a few words. He made two 
or three futile efforts to reform after this, and 
during one of them he married a lovely young 
g^rl of his native city. She had but a few 
months of happiness; he fell again, and de- 



62 . TALKS TO BOYS. 

serted her, going to a distant city. There, under 
an assumed name, he married another young 
lady. But his fraud was soon discovered, and 
he is now serving out a sentence for bigamy 
in the prison of his native State. 

This is a sad story to read. It has been a sad 
story to write. And if it were not for the hope 
of arresting some careless footsteps which are 
beginning to tread the downward path that 
Harry Belden trod, it would never have been 
written. 

People used to say in a kind of sad excuse 
for Harry's doings that " he was his own worst 
enemy." This was pitifully, shamefully true; 
for, with all his courage and his daring, there 
was one person whom he never dared to face, . 
and in whose presence he was a miserable cow- 
ard, and that person was himself. If he had 
sought the aid of our best and ever-present 
Friend, resolved to conquer his evil impulses 
and desires at whatever cost, he would have 
been to-day a noble man, honored, respected, 
and beloved by all who knew him, instead of 
what he is, a poor miserable felon. 



KATE'S BROTHER JACK. 63 

KATES BROTHER JACK. 

"You seem to think a great deal of your 
sister," said one of Jack's chums to him the 
other day, as if the fact was rather sur- 
prising. 

"Why, yes, I do,*' responded Jack heartily. 
" Kit and I are great friends." 

"You always," continued the other, "seem 
to have such a good time when you are out to- 
gether." 

" Well," laughed Jack, " the fact is that when 
I have Kit out I keep all the while forgetting 
that she isn't some other fellow's sister." 

I pondered somewhat over this conversation, 
wishing that all the brothers and sisters in the 
world were as good friends as Jack and Kate 
Hazell, and wondering why they were not. It 
struck me that the answer to my query was con- 
tained in Jack's last sentence. Boys don't 
usually treat their sisters as they would if they 
were "some other fellow's sisters." Jack is a 
shining exception. He kneels to put on Kate's 
overshoes as gallantly as if she were Bessie 
Dare, and Bessie Dare is at present Jack's ideal 
of all that is loveliest in girlhood. If at a party 
at a neighbor s, he takes Kate in to supper him- 
self, and cares for her in all ways as an escort 
should ; and Kate knows what to expect of him 



64 TALKS TO BOYS. 

and what to do herself, and is not in dread of 
desertion or of being left to the tender mercies 
of any one who notices her forlorn condition. 
And I do n't wonder, when I see how nicely he 
treats her, that Kate declares that she would 
rather have her brother Jack for an escort than 
almost any one else in the world. 

At home, too. Jack is a pattern. Though 
there is a constant merry war between brother 
and sister, and jokes and repartees fly thick and 
fast, yet it is always fair cut and thrust between 
them, all for sport and naught for malice ; the 
wit never degenerates into rudeness. Then, 
too, if Kate does anything for him her kindness 
is always acknowledged. Does she take the 
trouble to make for him his favorite rice grid- 
dle-cakes, and then stay in the kitchen to bake 
them herself, that they may acquire that delicate 
golden brown which is so dear to the taste of all 
who love them truly. Jack never fails to assure 
her that her efforts are appreciated. 

Does she paint him a teacup and saucer or 
embroider him a hat-band, he is as delighted as 
possible. He does not take all these things as a 
matter of course. On Saturday nights he is apt 
to remember her by a box of candy, a bunch" of 
flowers, or a bottle of her favorite violet per- 
fume. Best of all he talks to her. He tells her 
his thoughts, his hopes and fears, his disap- 



"mother's own boy." 65 

pointments, and his plans for the future. In 
short, they are, as he said, " great friends." 

Some of Jack's comrades rather envy him his 
good fortune in possessing so devoted a sister as 
Kate, and they have been heard to say frankly 
that they wish their sisters were as nice as Kate 
Hazell. If those boys would pursue the same 
course of action towards their sisters that Jack 
does towards his, they might, perhaps, be re- 
warded with as delightful a result ; for it is by 
little acts of kindness and courtesy and consid- 
eration that Jack has made of his sister a friend 
whose love will never grow cold, whose devo- 
tion will never falter, and whose loyalty will 
never fail while life shall last. 



''MOTHERS OWN BOY.'' 

We hear a good deal in these days about 
boys being neglected, unappreciated individ- 
uals. It is said that every one is so absorbed in 
the girls that the boys are treated rather care- 
lessly. Some people even go so far as to say 
that the boys' own mothers prefer their sisters 
to them. If this were true it would be very 
dreadful. I have looked into the subject some- 
what, and have come to the conclusion that 
where such is the case it is the boys' own fault. 
When the sons are as attentive and helpful and 

5 



66 TALKS TO BOYS. 

loving as the daughters, their mothers usually 
value them about alike. 

Some boys have the idea that they can't and 
wont do "girls' work." If those same boys 
would practise that sort of employment a little 
when mother is laid up with a sick headache, or 
sister Maggie is off for a well-earned week's holi- 
day, it would be a very nice thing for the fam- 
ily. I know boys who have tried it and have 
not found it so distressing. 

I have the honor to know one boy seventeen 
years old who does all the family washing every 
Saturday morning. His mother's only assistant 
in her housework is his little sister, aged ten, 
and the son has decided that during his school- 
life there is one burden that he can take from 
his mother's weary shoulders, and that is the 
great bugbear of washing day; and so every 
Saturday morning he rolls his shirt sleeves up 
to his shoulders, ties a good stout apron in front 
of him, and plunges into the suds ; and it is one 
of the most beautiful sights I know of to see 

him 

" Cheerily rub and rinse and wring 
And hang up the clothes to dry." 

I know another boy who did all of his fam- 
ily's ironing during one summer, except the 
shirts ; those, he was forced to confess, were too 
much for his skill. I know boys who can run 



"mother's own boy." 6^ 

the sewing-machine, and who can sweep, wash 
dishes, and trim lamps on ' occasion. I even 
know boys who can cook. One boy in particu- 
lar I call to mind whose corn-muffins are the , 
pride of the family, and if there is company Jim 
is always called upon to contribute some of his 
inimitable hot corn-cakes for breakfast. These 
boys, I assure you, are appreciated in the home 
circle ; and when their mothers talk them over, 
if their right ears don't bum, why, there's no 
truth in signs, that 's all ! 

If there is no need for a boy to do housework, 
then let him do whatever is his appointed work 
with cheerful promptness. Every boy ought to 
have, and most boys do have, some daily tasks 
to do, the non-performance of which makes a jar 
in the family machine. If you have the furnace 
fire in charge, see to it regularly night and 
morning. I know a boy whose work it is to 
take care of the furnace in his home, and he 
could hardly seem more unwilling to go down 
the cellar stairs if that cellar was a dungeon cell 
in which he was about to be incarcerated for 
life. His father, his mother, and his sisters all 
have to "be after" him twice a day in order to 
get him to perform that simple duty. If you 
have the kindling-wood to cut, keep the wood- 
box full. If you have an errand to do, do it 
pleasantly. I heard a mother request her son 



68 TALKS TO BOYS. 

to go of an errand the other day, and this was 
the response she received: "Well, there's one 
thing Job didn't have to do anyhow; he didn't 
have to go to the store to get a quart of mo- 
lasses !'* There is a way of doing even an errand 
"heartily, as unto the Lord," and a beautiful 
way it is, but that boy didn't practise it that 
time. 

Perhaps some boy who has read thus far in 
this article feels like reminding the writer of the 
old proverb, "All work and no play makes Jack 
a dull boy." Should that be the case, I will say 
that I heartily ag^ee with the proverb, and I 
suggest that sometimes when " Jack " goes out 
to play he should take his mother with him. 
Astonish her by an invitation to a concert or a 
lecture or some other entertainment which you 
think she would enjoy. Devote yourself to her 
in your very best style for the evening and see 
if she does not seem pleased. If there is likely 
to be a good match for your base ball nine or a 
race for your rowing club, invite your mother to 
witness the contest, and if your side wins she 
will be a proud mother. 

There is a phrase which happy mothers 
sometimes use — it is the one which I have 
placed at the head of this article — that has al- 
ways seemed a beautiful one to me, because 
when I hear it I know that the one of whom it 



OUT-OF-DOOR BEHAVIOR. 69 

is Spoken is strong and gentle, thoughtful, help- 
ful, and cheery ; in short, much that a son ought 
to be. And I hope that the mother of every boy 
who reads these lines can say of him fondly and 
proudly, " He is a good son ; he is his * mother's 
own boy.' *' 

OUT-OF-DOOR BEHAVIOR. 

The other evening Rob was lying on the 
sofa in the library and telling me about what 
he called a "little adventure** which he had 
had a day or two before. He had met a young 
girl on the ferry-boat whom he had never seen 
before, and, as he expressed it, " had had some 
fun with her.** 

"Why, Rob,** said I, "you don't mean to 
say that you have been flirting, and with a 
young lady who was a total stranger to you 
beside!'* 

"Well,** he answered, laughing a little, '*she 
wasn*t exactly a young lady, you know. But 
that is just what I did.** 

" I am sorry to hear it,** said I. 

"Where is the harm?** he answered. "She 
liked it. I would not have done it if she 
hadn*t.** 

"That is just it,** I responded, "and if you 
had not done it, certainly she could not, for it 



JO TALKS TO BOYS. 

always takes two to make a flirtation as well as 
a bargain." 

"Seems to me," said Rob, sitting up and 
looking at me, " seems to me you are taking a 
little bit of nonsense very seriously." 

"Yes," I answered, "I am serious, but it is 
because I do not think it is nonsense. See here, 
Rob, how would you like to have some one flirt 
with your sisters?" 

"I*d like to see any fellow try it!" was the 
instant response. " I 'd punch his head for him. 
But then no fellow ever would, you know, for 
my sisters are ladies." 

"But you should treat other fellows' sisters 
with the same respect which you wish them to 
show to your sisters," said I, applying the Gol- 
den Rule with a little twist to suit the occasion. 
"You ought to treat every woman, young or 
old, rich or poor, plain or pretty, and of what- 
ever condition, with as much respect as if she 
were a lady; and you ought to do it for your 
own sake as well as for theirs, because it is a 
fact that the man or boy who habitually thinks 
of women disrespectfully or lightly greatly in- 
jures the tone of his moral character and opens 
the door to temptations which, if he yields to 
them, will ruin his life." 

It is very pleasant for a lady to feel when- 
ever she goes out that, as the old song says, 



OUT-OF-DOOR BEHAVIOR. 7 1 

"Friends in all the old she '11 find, 
And brothers in the young." 

And I am glad to say that such is the treatment 
which a lady usually receives in this country. 
She can rely upon a ready courtesy and a gen- 
erous help, when needed, from any man wher- 
ever she may go; and such attentions it is 
pleasant to give and equally pleasant to take. 

For ever to be remembered is a certain gen- 
tleman in rather a shabby coat and a shocking 
bad hat who one rainy day was riding up town 
in a Fourth Avenue car, and who, when a 
young girl with her arms full of parcels was 
about to get out at Denning*s, stopped the car 
for her, seized her umbrella, opened it, and 
escorted her to the shop-door safe and dry, and 
then responding to her grateful "Thank you, 
sir," with a touch of the hat and a smile, ran 
after his car, caught it, and disappeared therein. 
Equally unforgotten is another gentleman who, 
when a Broadway stage stopped in a mud-pud- 
die which the same young girl was about to step 
despairingly into, said frankly, " Wait a minute. 
Step on my foot and I *11 swing you across," and 
suiting the action to the word, he planted his 
foot in what was apparently the worst spot of 
all, and as she stepped upon it with one deft 
swing she was landed safely on the opposite 
pavement; and she went on her way with a 



72 TALKS TO BOYS. 

thankful heart and visions of Sir Walter Ral- 
eigh flitting through her brain. 

My paper has been occupied so far with sug- 
gestions as to how you should behave to other 
boys' sisters; but now how shall you behave 
when you meet their maiden aunts, their mo- 
thers, and their grandmothers? I asked my 
particular Sir Philip Sydney a question once 
which I think throws some light on this point. 
I will explain that Sir Philip is a clerk in a 
wholesale hardware store where they have very 
long hours and very hard work. Said I, " Phil, 
do you always g^ve up your seat to a lady if she 
is standing?" 

"Well,'* he answered, "some nights when I 
am awfully tired I do n't give up my seat to a 
young lady; but I can't bear to see an old 
woman, no matter whether she is a lady or not, 
stand while I sit." 

Those whose behavior is regulated by such a 
spirit will always be truly courteous to their 
elders. It is a shame to see half a dozen young 
fellows spring eagerly up to give a seat to a 
beautiful girl, when they will not stir for a 
worn, faded woman, with perhaps a bundle of 
cheap sewing in her arms, and who is not in 
any case one-tenth part as able to stand as 
the bright, healthy young lady. They agitated 
the question a while ago in dear old Boston 



A TALK TO SHY BOYS. 73 

whether, if every seat in the street-car was 
taken and a young man should see his mother's 
cook enter, he was in courtesy bound — remem- 
bering that she was a woman as well as a 
cook — to rise and give her his seat. I for one 
do not see why he should not. 

After all, the truest guide to a courteous 
behavior is the promptings of a kindly and 
thoughtful spirit, and the best rule for the gov- 
ernment of manners is the golden one. And if 
our boys will cultivate the one and be guided by 
the other, they cannot go far astray. 



A TALK TO SHY BOYS. 

One of my boy friends came to see me a 
while ago ; a very little boy he is, only six years 
old, but he said something which set me think- 
ing. He is such a shy little fellow that he re- 
minds me of nothing so much as a little turtle 
shut up in his shell. When he is alone with 
me, however, he sometimes opens his shell and 
gives me a glimpse of what is going on inside. 
He did so on this occasion. He was seated on 
the edge of the big rocking-chair with his small 
hands thrust into the pockets of his first knick- 
erbockers. His brow was wrinkled and he 
looked very unhappy. Being such a little fel- 



74 TALKS TO BOYS. 

low, he cx)uld not express himself with much 
fluency, but to me his very blunders were elo- 
quent. 

" I Ve got to go a-visiting," he remarked 
gloomily. " I *ve got to go with mamma to see 
my grandma. Do you know I have a grandma? 
I have, and I Ve got aunties — I Ve got uncles — 
and I Ve got — folks." 

He enumerated his relations as if each par- 
ticular class were an especial affliction. He con- 
tinued : 

"There 's an awful lot of people at my grand- 
ma*s house." Here he left his chair and nes- 
tled close to me. " 1 11 tell you something," he 
said mysteriously; "I'm afraid of them. Last 
time I went there I shivered — I did n't say any- 
thing, but I shivered." 

And I thought of dozens of boys whom I 
know, who are a good deal older than my little 
turtle, to whom the hours which they are forced 
to spend in society are so many hours of silent 
agony. Like little Jack, they don't say any- 
thing, but they shiver. 

A while ago, too, I was present at an exami- 
nation in one of the most thorough private 
schools in the city. When the class in French 
conversation was examined two brothers whom 
I knew were in it. The elder was the more 
thorough French scholar of the two, but the 



A TALK TO SHY BOYS. 75 

younger carried off the honors solely on ac- 
count of his superior coolness and composure. 
He was quite ready to chat with his teacher, 
and even made a bright little joke in French 
which delighted his audience. But when it was 
his brother's turn, every idea forsook him; he 
started, flushed, and could only stammer out, 
''J'oublie, Monsieur^' and sat covered with con- 
fusion as with a garment. 

"I knew how it would be," he said hope- 
lessly afterwards. "I always go to pieces on 
oral examinations.'* 

I felt so sorry for Hal that when I went 
home I told Mrs. Experience about it. Mrs. 
Experience is a wise woman who lives in our 
family and whom I often consult on my own 
and other people's difficulties. 

"I wish," said I to her, "that I could do 
something to help shy boys." 

"I will tell you a little story that perhaps 
may assist you," shfe said, smiling. 

" When I taught school twenty years ago in 

Wisconsin, I had a scholar named Sam B . 

He was eighteen years old and was exceedingly 
tall and awkward. He was backward in his 
studies, for his educational advantages had 
been limited ; but he was very conscious of his 
defects and feared ridicule. I think he was the 
most bashful fellow I have ever known. Not- 



^6 TALKS TO BOYS. 

withstanding all this he was bent on gaining 
an education and was determined, as he ex- 
pressed it, to 'make a man of himself.* 

" Of course I was ready to help him, and as 
he had a fine mind, he went forward rapidly in 
his studies. 

" Now it was a rule of mine that my pupils 
should each prepare either a declamation or a 
composition for every Friday. This rule Sam 
had hitherto been excused from. When I 
thought him sufficiently advanced, however, I 
told him to be prepared with a declamation on 
the following Friday. 

"*0h! Miss Grace,* he objected, 'I can't; any- 
thing but that! I never could speak a piece. 
All the fellows would laugh at the very idea.' 

"*But, Sam,* I urged, 'it will be the best 
thing in the world for you. What you lack is 
confidence in yourself, and that would help you 
to gain it.* 
" * I should certainly fail,* he answered. 

" ' Sam,* said I, ' you wont fail if you make 
up your mind to succeed. At all events you 
must recite some selection before the school on 
Friday next.* 

" * What will you do if I refuse?* asked he. 

" ' You would be obliged to leave the school,* 
I answered promptly. ' I can have no scholar in 
my school who refuses to accede to my wishes.* 



A TALK TO SHY BOYS. ^^ 

" * Well; he replied, ' that 's fair. If I make 
up my mind that I can*t speak, of course 1*11 
leave.* 

" I watched for Friday with a good deal of 
anxiety. In about the middle of the exercises I 
said, ' We will now have a recitation by Samuel 
B .* 

" Sam turned all sorts of colors, but he walked 
forward to the platform, made his bow, and es- 
sayed to speak ; but he shook all over and the 
words would not come. Fifty pairs of curious 
eyes seemed boring into his very soul, and his 
voice died away in a husky whisper. He walked 
stiffly to the water-pail, took a drink, and came 
back to the platform ; just then he heard a sup- 
pressed titter, and that struck fire. Grasping a 
shaking knee in each hand, he thus apostro- 
phized his recreant limbs : 

" ' Keep still,* he cried, * keep still, I tell you, 
for I will speak.* 

" That loosed his tongue, and the famous old 
periods came rolling out : 

" * Not many generations ago, where we now 
sit, encircled by all that exalts and embellishes 
civilized life, the rank thistle nodded in the 
wind and the wild fox dug his hole unscared,* 
and so on. 

" That boy,*' concluded Mrs. Experience, fan- 
ning herself complacently, " became a member 



78 TALKS TO BOYS. 

of Congress from his native Stat6, and a very 
eloquent speaker he is too." 

I thanked Mrs. Experience for her kindness 
in telling me this story and went on thinking, 
but it seemed to me that I saw a glimmer of 
daylight. 

That very evening Charlie Axtell dropped 
into the sitting-room, just home from his first 
trip West as a commercial traveller. Now 
Charlie is a very domestic, home-loving fellow, 
modest and unobtrusive, with but a small opin- 
ion of himself, and such being the case, I feared 
he had not enjoyed his Western experiences 
very much. 

"Oh!'* said he, in answer to my questions, 
"at the start it was awful. I walked up and 
down in front of my first customer's door for 
fully half an hour without the courage to go in, 
and when I did get into the store I had n't a 
word to say for myself and precious few for my 
firm. How I did it I do n't know, but I managed 
to make a small sale, so my first effort was not 
an absolute failure; but the first two weeks 
were terrific. I was n't going to let m5rself be 
beaten, though, so I persevered, and take it all 
in all, I have made a very successful trip.*' 

One little sentence of Charlie's stuck in my 
head. "/ was tCt going to let myself be beaten^' he 
said. Ah! that was it. The boy who is de- 



A TALK TO AWKWARD BOYS. 7$ 

terred from doing anything by shyness lets him- 
self be beaten. His shyness conquers him when 
he should conquer the shyness. 

One of our most noted humorous lecturers 
once asked Mr. Beecher what he should do to 
overcome a certain nervous trembling which al- 
ways attacked him whenever he faced an audi- 
ence. 

"My boy/* said the wise old veteran, "I 
do n't think that you will ever get over it ; you 
had best not mind it'' 

This habit of shyness, if nursed and yielded 
to, may come to dominate a man's whole life, 
and may so fetter his actions that half his native 
powers may never be fully developed; but if 
fought with it can be conquered and put down 
and kept in its proper place. Sam did it when 
he resolved that he would speak. Charlie did it 
when he determined not to be beaten, and every 
boy can do so if he will exert his own courage 
and self-control. 



A TALK TO AWKWARD BOYS. 

There is a time in the life of many a lad 
when during the course of a year, or perhaps 
even a shorter period, he changes from a little 
fellow into a big boy. It is marvellous how 
fast he grows ; before his friends know it he is 



80 TALKS TO BOYS. 

taller than his father. He has to have as many 
new suits as a silk worm does to keep him look- 
ing respectable, and in spite of every care there 
is apt to be a gap between the bottoms of his 
trousers and the tops of his shoes, and a wide 
strip o^ wrist between his sleeves and his hands. 
Sometimes they call this season the " awkward 
age,** and a very hard time it often is to a lad ; 
many are the jokes that are cracked at his ex- 
pense, and in some families many are the sighs 
and critical remarks which he hears about his 
looks, his carriage or behavior, from friends 
who ought to know better ; while the poor boy 
himself feels more than any one else can feel 
that his feet and hands are more than he can 
manage, and that when he sits down he seems 
to have as many joints as a grasshopper, and he 
always appears to himself to be ten times more 
clumsy and awkward than he does to any one 
else. 

I number more than one such boy among 
my friends, and the other day one of them was^ 
telling me how queer and shy h'e felt, just like 
dear Hans Andersen*s ugly duckling — ^how he 
never could bear to get into company because 
he did not know what to do or to say ; and one 
would think, to hear the boy talk, that life under 
the circumstances was scarcely worth living. 

"Why, Herbert,** said I, "have a little pa- 



A TALK TO AWKWARD BOYS. 8 1 

tience with yourself ; in time that tall frame of 
yours will fill out and assume its proper propor- 
tions and you will learn how to govern it ; its 
muscles will knit if you give them sufficient ex- 
ercise. The lines of your face will change, and 
by the time you are twenty-five years old you 
will probably be a man of fine appearance, and, 
if you will take the pains to cultivate them, of 
easy and graceful manners." 

" But,'* said the young Hopeless, " suppose I 
shouldn't turn out as you think I will? Sup- 
pose I keep on looking awkward and queer to 
the end of the chapter?" 

"Why, then," said I still cheerfully, "listen 
to this : I have a friend who when he was a lad 
was certainly the most awkward and angular 
boy that I ever saw. His face was plain to the 
verge of ugliness ; he stammered so badly that 
it was only by speaking with the most painful 
slowness and precision he was able to control 
his speech so as to make himself understood, 
and he had absolutely but two good points about 
him : one was a nobly shaped head, and the other 
was a gentle and agfreeable tone of voice. In 
spite of all of these drawbacks, he has not only 
won a most enviable rank among the scientists 
of this country, but he is distinguished for his 
beautiful manners as well. He has learned to 
behave so charmingly, and with such uncon- 

T«lks To Boys. ^ 



82 TALKS TO BOYS. 

sciousness of self, that people forget his looks 
when they have been in his company ten min- 
utes, and only notice the rare and noble attri- 
butes of mind and character which he possesses. 
As he grew older he learned to manage himself 
better, and he became accustomed to his own 
peculiarities, so to speak ; for though they were 
toned down somewhat as he reached manhood, 
they never left him, but he bears with them so 
pleasantly himself that to his friends they are 
actually an added charm. He never alludes to 
them in any way, excepting that I have heard 
him make to strangers a winning little apology 
for his manner of speech, which is still very 
slow, though his utterance is easy. But though 
his speech is slow, his thoughts are quick, and he 
is always thoughtful for others. He has a beau- 
tiful deference in his manners toward his elders, 
no lady is ever near him that she does not feel 
a sense of his quiet consideration for her, and all 
children turn naturally to him for protection 
and care ; and his brilliant mind and beautiful 
spirit together have so dignified and ennobled 
the body which they inhabit that every one 
who knows him regards him with admiration, 
respect, and affection. It is the finest example 
of the triumph of mind over matter that I have 
ever seen.** 

A mere awkwardness is almost always out- 



A TALK TO AWKWARD BOYS. 83 

grown, or, if it does not entirely vanish with 
maturity, it ceases to annoy unless its cause 
springs from some physical defect which time 
cannot cure. Some boys perhaps, who chance 
to be reading this, may have the lot to go 
through life halt or maimed, not equal physi- 
cally in some way to their comrades. To such 
I would say with great gentleness and S3mi- 
pathy, be careful not to let any over-sensitive- 
ness keep you back or prevent you from taking 
your share of work or play whenever you can ; 
and cultivate steadily the habit of forgetting 
yourself and entering heartily into the hopes 
and pursuits of others. For it is a fact that a 
physical peculiarity or defect, if its owner al- 
lows it to trouble him, can mar or even ruin the 
usefulness and happiness of a life ; but if it is 
bravely and cheerfully borne it never fails to 
give a peculiar nobility to the spirit of the one 
who so takes it. 

And not only that, but such a defect may 
be overcome, and in spite of it one may do such 
good and manly work in the world that those 
who are in the perfect possession of all their fac- 
ulties must pause in admiration of the man, who, 
though so hindered, accomplishes such beautiful 
results. 

When the late William Fawcett, of England, 
was a young man of eighteen, he was out shoot- 



84 TALKS TO BOYS. 

ing, and his eyesight was destroyed by the* acci- 
dental discharge of a gun which was in the 
hands of his father. The agony of the poor 
father when he found, after weeks of suspense, 
that his dear son was hopelessly blind, was al- 
most unendurable, and the brave boy to comfort 
him said, "Father, don't grieve so. I promise 
you that this accident shall not ruin my life. 
Everything that I had planned to do before it 
happened I will accomplish still. You shall 
see. 

As soon as he was able he returned to col- 
lege and took his degree. Then he came home, 
and practised vigorously all sorts of manly exer- 
cises, even to riding horseback — a pastime in 
which he delighted as long as he lived.. When 
his not over firm health was fully restored he 
began to consider what he could best do to help 
his fellow-men ; he turned his attention to poli- 
tics, and was elected to Parliament, and for 
many years his name was identified with every 
needed reform and with all legislation which 
was for his country's good. Finally he was 
made Postmaster-General of England, and he 
filled that high office to the satisfaction of the 
whole country, and when he died, a few years 
since, England mourned him as one of her best 
and bravest sons. And the man who did all this 
was perfectly blind. 



.ON TEASING. 85 

So, my boy to whom God has thought best 
to send some similar affliction, never repine, 
never despair ; but remember that with God to 
help you, and your own determined will, there 
is no limit to the things which you may accom- 
plish if you try. 

» 

ON TEASING. 

It seems to me that one of the most annoy- 
ing traits of character which one can possess is a 
disposition to tease, for when that disposition is 
freely indulged there is nothing that can cause 
more unhappiness to others. To be obliged to 
spend one's life with an inveterate tease is like 
living in a bramble bush, or suflFering constantly 
from the torture of innumerable pin-pricks. To 
be sure, one pin-prick is nothing much, but when 
one has to bear ten thousand of them it is quite 
another matter. 

"Pshaw!" says the tease, "I did not hurt 
you any. I wouldn't make such a fuss about 
nothing. I did not mean anything. I was only 
teasing." 

Exactly. And it is just because there is no 
meaning in it nor necessity for it, because it is 
"only teasing," that poor tormented, insulted 
human nature cries out sometimes in a passion 
against it. It is astonishing what an unerring 



86 TALKS TO BOYS. 

ingenuity a bom tease will show in choosing 
his victim's weakest point and in sticking his 
little pin straight into it. Is his victim timid, 
quick-tempered, or has he some infirmity of 
speech or peculiarity of person about which 
he is sensitive? That is the very place which 
the tease selects for his thrust; and a tease 
never misses a chance. If he cannot find any- 
thing else to annoy, he will tease an animal or 
torment a little child, and he thinks it is fun; 
but it is the most malicious, most dreadful, and 
most dangerous fun in this world. I once knew 
a lady who was literally almost frightened to 
death by a miserable man who followed her 
home through the twilight ; she reached shelter 
and dropped fainting upon the floor, and the 
thoughtless fellow who occasioned the distress 
explained that he "just followed her to tease 
her, because he knew she was timid, and he did 
it just for fun.*' He found that it was not so 
enjoyable as he waited while she hovered be- 
tween life and death, the victim of his wretched 
joke. Fortunately for him and for the friends 
who loved her, she recovered, but she never 
entirely got over the effects of the nervous shock 
which she endured at that time. 

I think that a genuine tease is always a cow- 
ard, for he never attacks his equals : his victims 
are the helpless animal, the little child, the timid 



ON TEASING. 8/ 

woman. If you will notice, it is never the 
smaller boy who teases the larger one. And 
then a tease can never bear to be teased himself. 
Nothing makes him angrier than to be paid 
back in his own coin. 

But really, the most distressing thing about 
the whole matter is the effect which the habit 
of teasing has upon the nature of the one who 
indulges in it. A confirmed tease becomes pos- 
itively heartless. He can look upon mental or 
physical distress quite unmoved. Indeed, he is 
not satisfied with the results of his teasing if he 
does not cause one or the other. That is the 
part he enjoys, and it is why he teases. 

If there is a boy who reads these lines who 
likes to tease his little sister until she runs in 
tears to her mother, or who torments some little 
fellow at school just to see him flush crimson 
and bristle with impotent indignation — if you 
want to make a man of yourself, stop it. For it 
is a most ignoble and unmanly thing to take de- 
light in causing pain to any living creature, espe- 
cially if it is smaller and weaker than yourself. 



88 TALKS TO BOYS. 



ON BEING PLEASANT. 

Says Mr. Thackeray about that nice boy 
Clive Newcome, " I do n*t know that Clive was 
especially brilliant, but he was pleasant.'' 

Occasionally we meet people to whom it 
seems to come natural to be pleasant ; such are 
as welcome wherever they go as flowers in May, 
and the most charming thing about them is that 
they help to make other people pleasant too. 
Their pleasantness is contagious. 

The other morning we were in the midst of 
a three days* rain. The fire smoked, the dining- 
room was chilly, and when we assembled for 
breakfast, papa looked rather grim and mamma 
tired, for the baby had been restless all night. 
Polly was plainly inclined to fretfulness, and 
Bridget was undeniably cross, when Jack came 
in with the breakfast rolls from the baker*s. He 
had taken oflE his rubber coat and boots in the 
entry, and he came in rosy and smiling. 

" Here 's the paper, sir," said he to his father 
with such a cheerful tone that his father's brow 
relaxed, and he said, "Ah, Jack, thank you,'* 
quite pleasantly. 

His mother looked up at him smiling, and he 
just touched her cheek gently as he passed. 

" The top of the morning to you, PoUywog," 



ON BEING PLEASANT. 89 

he said to his little sister, and delivered the rolls 
to Bridget with a "Here you are, Bridget. 
Aren't you sorry you didn't go to get them 
yourself this beautiful day?" 

He gave the fire a poke and opened a dam- 
per. The smoke ceased, and presently the coals 
began to glow, and five minutes after Jack came 
in we had gathered around the table and were 
eating our oatmeal as cheerily as possible. This 
seems very simple in the telling, and Jack never 
knew he had done anything at all, but he had in 
fact changed the whole moral atmosphere of the 
room and had started a gloomy day pleasantly 
for five people. 

" He is always so," said his mother when I 
spoke to her about it afterwards, " just so sunny 
and kind and ready all the time. I suppose 
there are more brilliant boys in the world than 
mine, but none with a kinder heart or a sweeter 
temper ; I am sure of that." 

And I thought, " Why is n't such a disposi- 
tion worth cultivating? Isn't it one's duty to be 
pleasant, just as well as to be honest or truthful, 
or industrious or generous? And yet, while 
there are a good many honest, truthful, indus- 
trious, and generous souls in the world, and 
people who are unselfish too after a fashion, a 
person who is habitually pleasant is rather a 
rarity. I suppose the reason is because it is 



90 TALKS TO BOYS. 

such hard work to act pleasant when one feels 
cross. 

People whose dispositions are naturally irri- 
table or unhappy think it is no use trying to 
be otherwise; but that is a mistake. Any one 
can be pleasant who wants to. If one will pa- 
tiently and perseveringly try to keep always 
pleasant, after a while one will get in the habit 
of smiling instead of frowning, of looking bright 
instead of surly, and of giving a kind word in- 
stead of a cross one. And if some of the boys 
who read this should chance to be of the kind 
who only act pleasant when they feel like it, I 
wish they would think of what I say, and try 
and "see if I am not right. And the beauty of 
it is, as I said before, that pleasantness is catch- 
ing, and before long they may find themselves 
in the midst of a circle full of bright and happy 
people, where every one is as good-natured and 
contented as they are. 



ON LAUGHING. 

Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, 

And merrily hent the stile-a ; 
A merry heart goes all the day, 

Your sad tires in a mile-a. 

Shakespeare. 

There is no more delightful sound on earth 
than a hearty laugh. One good laugh will 



ON LAUGHING. 9I 

brighten the whole day for the laugher and 
cheer everybody within hearing. But every 
laugh is not like that. Some laughs hurt instead 
of helping, and their sting remains long after 
the careless laugher has gone on his way and 
forgotten what he was laughing at. I think 
this is what the Bible means when it gives the 
kindly warning that there is a time to laugh. 

Some time since five of my boy friends 
were appointed a committee to select the sub- 
jects for the coming quarter for the young peo- 
ple's prayer -meeting of their church. Four 
of the boys were the sons of well-to-do pa- 
rents. They had plenty of money and good 
clothes, they were well bred, well educa- 
ted, and altogether delightful young fellows. 
The fifth was a lad who had been bom and 
brought up under very different circumstances. 
Fatherless, motherless, uneducated, and poor, he 
had struggled for existence from his babyhood, 
but through all his troubles he had kept an 
honest and cheerful heart. Naturally intelli- 
gent, he was always learning, and all the boys 

of the Street Church liked and respected 

Joe. On the appointed evening the committee 
met at the house of one of the lads where I was 
making a visit. They went into the library and 
held their meeting, and after an hour or so I 
heard them out in the hall having the last 



92 TALKS TO BOYS. 

words and giving cordial hand-shakes and good- 
bys to Joe, who was obliged to leave early. 
The hall door closed and there was an instant's 
silence ; then the four boys who were left came 
leap-frogging across the hall and into the di- 
ning^oom where I was sitting, and dropping 
on the floor around my sofa, they all went off 
into peals of long-suppressed laughter. After a 
while they managed to control themselves and 
tell me the joke. It seemed that Joe had mis- 
pronounced a word in a peculiarly funny man- 
ner, and the way in which he applied it made it 
sound supremely ridiculous to the fun -loving 
lads who were listening ; but not one of them 
smiled in the slightest, or even moved a muscle, 
lest Joe should notice and his feelings should be 
hurt. They controlled themselves perfectly 
until Joe had gone, and then nature was too 
much for them and they laughed till they cried, 
when it could do no harm. They never re- 
peated the story to any of their mates, so that . 
Joe's feelings were carefully guarded in every 
way, and he never knew that he had said any- 
thing unusual or absurd. And I thought to my- 
self that the Master whom those boys were 
serving must have been well pleased at such 
an instance of their thoughtfulness and self- 
control. 

Never laugh at a jest on a sacred subject 



ON LAUGHING. 93 

even though the temptation may be strong. 
All such jesting is a species of profanity, and the 
influence of every boy who is trying to do right 
should be against it. 

There are a great many practical jokes which 
do not deserve to be laughed at. Anything 
which causes inconvenience or pain to another 
is brutal and cannot by any possibility be 
amusing. 

Never laugh at a vulgar joke. But laugh at 
a joke on yourself even if it is a little severe, for 
it is the best sort of practice. Many people can 
be very witty at other people's expense, who do 
not like the laugh to be turned on them. It is a 
good rule never to give a joke that you would 
not like to take. 

But of honest, wholesome, hearty laughter 
this world can never have too much; so culti- 
vate a merry heart which is brave enough to 
laugh at the little cares and annoyances of life, 
and you will find every day plenty of things 
both gay and sweet to gladden you. This is the 
kind of heart which the Bible says " does good 
like a medicine,** it is such a heart that Shake- 
speare meant when he wrote the jolly little song 
which I have put at the head of this article, 
and it is the kind of heart which everybody 
loves and always has loved since the world 
began. And if you have such a heart you will 



94 TALKS TO BOYS. 

brighten the "foot-path" way of every one 
whom you meet as you travel on life's journey. 



MISSIONS FOR BOYS 

The word mission comes from the old Latin 
verb mittOy t » oend, so that a missionary is one 
who is sent. In these days there are a great 
many missions, both home and foreign, and 
thousands of people are working in them, 
preaching to and teaching and helping in many 
different ways the poor, the lonely, the ignorant, 
and the oppressed. But boys, as a general rule, 
do not do very much missionary work. I do 
not think this is their fault, however, for boys 
have naturally just as much of a missionary 
spirit as any one else. But the trouble is they 
have not "been sent.'* And boys can give such 
valuable help if they will that I feel like " send- 
ing " every boy I know and giving them a hint 
or two as to how to begin ; and perhaps I can do 
that best by telling how some of my boy friends 
have been working recently. 

Not very long ago, in a Consumptives' Home 
which I sometimes visit, a boy of nineteen was 
dying. Week by week life was slipping away 
from him, and one by one all the bright hopes 
of his youth and young manhood were departing. 
He was a lad who had looked poverty in the 



MISSIONS FOR BOYS. 95 

face since he was a little child. He had never 
known in all his life what it was to be thor- 
oughly well clothed and fed. While but a child 
he had been obliged to work, and his scanty 
wages had always been cheerfully divided with 
his mother and little sisters ; and then, just as the 
future began to grow brighter before him, the 
effect of his long years of toil and privation was 
made manifest and he was stricken with con- 
sumption. 

Friends procured for him a pleasant and 
sunny room at the " Home,** where, surrounded 
by every comfort, he was free and welcome to 
remain as long as he lived. At first the peace 
and quiet of his little room, the rest and free- 
dom from anxiety, were all he craved. But 
afterward, when the excellent nursing which he 
received and the nourishing food which he ate 
began to tell upon his exhausted system, and he 
began to revive, he missed his former busy life 
and his old friends and companions desperately. 
He missed their boyish talk, their fun and 
laughter above all. This quiet, monotonous life 
was something he was utterly unused to, and he 
became very lonely. The ladies who managed 
the Home came often to see him, and he was 
very grateful to them and learned to love them. 
His mother and sisters came, sorrowful and anx- 
ious, so their visits could not cheer him, and as 



96 TALKS TO BOYS. 

he said to his Sunday-school teacher, he wanted 
" the boys." So she told his old class about it, 
and they agreed, as they expressed it, " to stand 
by Frank as long as he lived." So they went 
to see him regularly every visiting day in turn 
and spent every Sunday morning with him 
besides. They were all working boys, and it 
was sometimes a real sacrifice for them to spend 
the scanty time they had for recreation with 
Frank, but they never missed him once for 
nearly a year. They soon discovered that Frank 
did not care to talk about his sufferings, but that 
he did like very much to know all about their 
plans, their work and play, and all the details of 
that dear every-day life which he had left for 
ever behind him ; so they talked to him about 
what they were doing, and many a hearty laugh 
rang out from Frank's room at the relation of 
soine droll anecdote or bit of nonsense from one 
of the boys. On Sunday mornings they always 
used to go over the Sunday-school lesson to- 
gether, and then they would read aloud from 
some good paper. 

These boys kept, beside their regular envel- 
lope for Sunday collections, a horn which was' 
tipped with silver and which had this inscrip- 
tion around its edge : 

** Once I was the horn of an ox, 
Now I am a missionary box." 



MISSIONS FOR BOYS. 97 

And in this they used to take up collections for 
whatever object they chose, and during Frank's 
illness he had frequent presents which were 
bought with this money. Rather amusing 
were some of the purchases, too, and yet, as 
Frank said, they eacih went to the spot. 

Towards the last Frank could only see his 
kind friends for a few minutes at a time ; they 
used to go in and sit quietly by his bed, and 
when they left they would give his hand a 
gentle clasp and say warmly, " Keep up your 
courage, old boy," or " Do n't give in ; we fellows 
remember you in class prayer-meeting every 
time." And so, helped and encouraged by his 
friends, Frank passed through the dark valley, 
brave and faithful to the last, and- reached his 
home in that happy country whose inhabitants 
never say, " I am sick." 

I know another class of boys who are inter- 
ested in a poor woman who has a sick husband 
and six little daughters to provide for. These 
boys are sons of parents in good circumstances, 
and many are the glasses of soda-water and 
pounds of candy which they deny themselves 
for the sake of " their little girls," as they call 
them ; and frequently on a Saturday before they 
are out on their bicycles or oflf for a game of 
some sort, one or another will go bounding up 
the four flights of stairs which lead to the tene- 

Tftlks To 8071. 7 



98 TALKS TO BOYS. 

ment where their prot^g^es live, with a special 
gift for a special little pet. 

I know another set of boys who live in the 
country, and they collect every season crates of 
delicious fruit — grapes, apples, peaches, and 
pears — ^and send them to the poor children in 
the city. This deserves a story by itself, as I 
well know, for I sometimes help to distribute 
the gift, and I can never forget the look of the 
eager little mouths which are reached up to 
take it — mouths, sometimes, which have not 
tasted one single bit of fresh fruit all during 
the long hot summer. 

My dear boys, I think I have told you enough 
to give you a hint of how to begin being mis- 
sionaries. You have only to look about you, and 
you will find somebody to whom you can lend a 
helping hand. But if you should fail to find an 
opening for yourself, just go to your pastor or 
teacher, and he will soon put you on the track 
of somebody ; and when you have once begun I 
do n't think you will ever care to stop, for the 
great beauty of all such work is that it ennobles 
the nature of the one who helps as well as com- 
forts and encourages the one who is in need, for 
as Mr. Lowell so beautifully says, 

" Who shares his bread with a beggar feeds three, 
Himself, his suffering neighbor, and Me." 

Which is only another way of saying, "Ina§- 



ON BEING A GENTLEMAN. 99 

much as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these ye have done it unto Me." 

And I trust there is not a single boy who 
reads these words who would not run with 
eagerness to do a kindness to his Lord and 
Saviour. 

ON BEING A GENTLEMAN. 

What is it to be a gentleman? If you ask 
Mr. Webster, he will tell you that any man who 
is well educated, polite, and civil ranks in this 
country as a gentleman. But I think that to- 
day most people acknowledge that it takes more 
than that to make a gentleman. 

"It takes blue blood," says Charlie. I sup- 
pose Charlie means by that expression that to 
be a gentleman a man must come of a noble 
and distinguished ancestry; but I have known 
many a man who came of a noble race who was 
not truly a gentleman. * Though an honorable 
ancestry is a thing to thank God for and to be 
glad of, yet that in itself is not necessary to 
make a gentleman, for a man may have been 
bom in a poorhouse and know nothing about 
his father and mother, and yet be a gentleman. 
Look a little deeper. What does the word "gen- 
tle" mean? To be gentle, says Mr. Webster, is 
never to be rough, harsh, or severe. So, then, a 



100 TALKS TO BOYS. 

gentleman must have polite manners and never 
be rough, harsh, or severe. But to be a thor- 
ough gentleman takes more than this. 

A short time since an American visiting 
London for the first time was invited to a re- 
ception to meet a very distinguished company. 
During the evening he found himself seated 
beside a pleasant-looking gentleman; they en- 
tered into conversation and the American told 
his neighbor that he was from the United 
States, and that it was his first evening out in 
London. 

" Indeed,'* said the other, smiling. "And 
how do you like us ?** 

" Oh,*' was the hearty response, " I like you 
all greatly. Everybody is very kind ; but, to 
tell you the truth, I think your titles very con- 
fusing. I find that I am getting my dukes and 
earls all mixed up, and I am afraid that I do n't 
address any one properly." 

His neighbor's eyes sparkled. "Ah," said 
he, " in America you don't have that trouble." 

" Oh, no," was the answer. " There any man 
is a gentleman who tells the truth and pays his 
debts, and we are all plain Misters." 

The other looked amused, but just then a 
gentleman came up, and bowing profoundly, 
addressed the American's companion as " Your 
Royal Highness," and with a courteous smile 



ON BEING A GENTLEMAN. lOI 

and a bow, H. R. H. walked off, leaving Mr. 

C anxiously considering the tone of his 

previous remarks, and wondering if they had 
been too free and easy for the ears of royalty. 

But the American's idea of what constituted 
a gentleman throws another light on the sub- 
ject. A gentleman must pay his debts and 
speak the truth. He must verify the old prov- 
erb that " a gentleman's word is as good as his 
bond." If he passes his word he must keep it 
at any hazard, and every word he says must 
come within the limit of absolute truth. And a 
gentleman must live within his income. True, 
many a true gentleman has known poverty's 
bitterest sting, and has seen his property melt 
away from him like snowflakes in spring-time, 
leaving him positively penniless; then it is 
right to take help from others, both for one's self 
and for one's family. But such help is never 
obtained under false pretences, and a true gen- 
tleman, if he is ever able, will repay the donors. 

So, then, a gentleman must be polite, gentle, 
truthful, and honest. And if a boy wishes to 
become a gentleman, and will rule his life by 
those four words, he will succeed. But he will 
find when he begins to try that those four 
words, simple as they are, have deep meanings, 
and it may not be always easy for him to put 
them into daily practice. But if he wishes an 



I02 TALKS TO BOYS. 

example by which to mould his life, I can point 
him to one perfect model, Jesus Christ, who was, 
as the poet truly says, 

"The first of gentlemen." 

Never before or since have there been shown 
in this world such beautiful manners as his, so 
courteous, so friendly, and marked with such an 
unfailing tact and kindness, whether they ad- 
dressed the young, the middle-aged, or the old. 

And was not He the very essence of gen- 
tleness? — a gentleness which had no trace of 
weakness in it, but rather one that was bom of 
conscious power and perfect self-control. 

And who but He could say that He was 
Truth itself? 

And though He was bom and lived and 
died in poverty, yet no one of all his enemies, 
and He had many, eager to find some flaw, 
could point to the slightest stain on his integ- 
rity and honor. 

A lad who hopes to win this high ideal must 
make up his mind to spend his life in trying; 
but it will pay him, for he will find sooner or 
later that in aiming to be a gentleman he is 
only trying to make himself like Christ. 



ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH CHRIST. 103 

ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH 
CHRIST 

I KNOW that there are many boys who will 
read this who do not yet know Christ who 
would like to get acquainted with him, but in 
spite of all they hear about him in church, in 
Sunday-school, and prayer-meeting, they do not 
know how to begin; for the things which are 
said about him touch upon ideas which are 
quite outside of their experience and which 
seem very strange and unreal to them. What 
is this " still small voice *' which Christians speak 
of which brings such happiness to hear? How 
do Christians know Christ hears them when 
they pray ? How do they know He loves them, 
and how can they love Him when they have 
never seen Him? One has to be well ac- 
quainted with Christ before one can under- 
stand all this. You will have to be more than 
an acquaintance, you will have to be a friend 
of his, before you can experience such things. 
And to become genuine friends with any one 
takes time, you know. But fortunately for us, 
it is very easy to win Christ's friendship, for He 
is always ready and waiting and we have only 
to do our part. 

The first thing of all to do is to read the 



104 TALKS TO BOYS. 

story of his life as we find it in the four Gospels, 
not reading it piecemeal, a little bit at a time, 
but reading it as if every chapter were a les- 
son — as indeed it is — ^and you were bound to 
get the meaning out of it. When you have 
done this you will find that there are certain 
things which Christ expects every friend of his 
to do. One is to pray — not simply to say your 
prayers, but to pray honestly from the heart. 
Tell Him that you want to be a friend of his, 
and ask Him to forgive your sins and make you 
worthy. You will not hear anything, you will 
not see anything; when you arise from your 
knees the world will look the same as usual. 
But nevertheless, if you have prayed that 
prayer with an honest heart, it will surely be 
answered. You will also find, if you want to be 
friends with Christ, that he expects you to 
make your life as nearly like his own as you 
can. To do this there is just one little test 
which you must apply to your actions every 
hour in the day — ^it is to say to yourself, " Would 
Christ like me to do this?" If you think he 
would, go on and do it well. But if you think 
he would not like it, then never do it. 

And if you keep on steadily day by day 
reading his Book, praying to him, and trying 
to be like him, then surely some day, sooner or 
later, you will feel his presence near you, and 



ON GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH CHRIST. I05 

he will speak to you in that wonderful way of 
his which one can know but can never describe ; 
and you will be ready from that moment to 
drop everything and spring with joy to answer 
when he calls. 

Sometimes — I 'm sure I do n't know how — a 
boy gets an idea that to become a Christian will 
take all the fun and sparkle out of life. 

"You have to be so awfully solemn/' said 
one of my boys to me once. 

" Why, Jack/' said I, " what makes you think 
that?" 

" Oh, I do n't know," he answered, " but you 
do." 

"Do you suppose," said I, "that when Jesus 
lived in this world he went about with a sad 
face and a grave manner and only spoke in sol- 
emn tones? No, indeed. If he had been like 
that, people would not always have been asking 
him to dinner and to supper and trying to get 
him to stay with them at night. He would not 
have been a welcome guest at wedding-feasts 
and happy gatherings like that. No. He was 
cheerful himself and he loved to have every one 
about him happy, and he was always trying to 
make them so." 

Of any sort of honest, wholesome fun no 
Christian boy need be afraid to take his share, 
and he will be apt to have a better time than 



I06 TALKS TO BOYS. 

any one else, for who will have so light a heart 
as he ? Only take care that no slightest hint of 
ill-temper or unfairness on your part shall mar 
any of your games, and you can be sure that 
your Best Friend is glad to have you happy, 
and that you can serve him in your play as well 
as in your work. 

And if any boy who does not yet know Jesus 
will try to get acquainted with him in the way 
that I have told, he will soon come to know Him, 
and when he knows Him he will love Him, and 
when once he loves Him he will be proud and 
happy to be His friend and servant until the 

day he dies. 

♦ 

ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. 

When a boy gets one good look at the 
Saviour and realizes something of what he is 
and what he has done for us, it is not often that 
that boy turns away and leaves him; for after 
such a look one can hardly help loving Christ 
and trying to serve him. But sometimes a 
boy's idea of what constitutes a Christian life is 
not very clear. 

I asked one of my boys once how any one 
could tell whether a boy was a Christian or not. 

"Well," answered Tom rather hesitatingly, 
" if a fellow is a Christian he goes to church and 



ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. lO/ 

to Sunday-school and to prayer-meeting regu- 
larly, and he reads his Bible and all that/' 

"But," said I, "I am sorry to say that I 
have known some people who have done all 
those things which you mention, and yet I did 
not feel sure that they were true Christians. Is 
there no other way in which you can tell? How 
do you know that Will Barrett is a Christian, 
for instance?" 

" Why," said Tom at once, " by the way he 
acts. He is n*t the same fellow at all." 

"Ah," I responded, smiling, "now you have 
explained it perfectly ; he is rCt the same fellow 
at ally 

It is not any one thing which a boy does, 
but a change occurs which penetrates his whole 
life. That is what we mean when we say any 
one has been "converted," or has had a "change 
of heart." It is what the Bible means when it 
speaks of being " bom again," or of "becoming a 
new man in Christ Jesus." The change is radi- 
cal, and a boy who has been through that expe- 
rience is not the same fellow at all that he was 
before it happened. It is not only that he takes 
a deeper interest in his church and all its ser- 
vices than he ever did before, or that he reads 
his Bible more faithfully or prays more ear- 
nestly, but the change affects every action of 
his daily life ; it makes more thorough the way 



I08 TALKS TO BOYS. 

he works or studies or plays; it makes him 
braver, gentler, pleasanter than he ever was be- 
fore. But the change is shown most of all in 
the way he fights and conquers his own beset- 
ting sins. And when a boy's companions see 
such a change a3 this coming over one of their 
number they know beyond all doubting that he 
has become a Christian, and such is the test 
which a boy*s friends always apply to him. 

Once, not many years ago, a boy went to 
college, and he was just the handsomest, wit- 
tiest, pleasantest, and most " taking '* boy in his 
class. He had plenty of money, everybody 
liked him, and he was sought after by all ; but 
he made friends with the faster and more reck- 
less set, and for two years he went dashing on, 
and there was nothing too mad or too foolish 
for Jack Sanborn and his friends to do. But in 
one vice he was worse than all the rest : he was 
exceedingly profane. The habit grew upon 
him until he swore without knowing it, and it 
was second nature to him. 

One day he chanced to be sitting in his room 
alone when some one came to him. He never 
could tell how it was, but it seemed to him that 
Christ was there — the Christ of Calvary. He 
had heard the Bible read thousands of times, 
indeed, he had been taught to read it and to 
pray when he was a little boy; but it had all 



ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. 109 

been to him as an idle tale. But in that hour 
Christ came to him and called him, and he 
heard and answered, and forsook all and fol- 
lowed Jesus as truly as did those fishermen 
friends of Jesus so long ago by the Sea of Gali- 
lee. His comrades noticed the change in him, 
of course, and they watched him, half laugh- 
ingly, half curiously, but very closely. He was 
just as friendly as ever with them, but to their 
wonder not one glass of wine would he touch, 
not one bit of dissipation would he indulge in, 
and strangest of all, not one profane word passed 
his lips. For the rest he was much as usual — 
better at his lessons a good deal, but happier 
and more full of life than ever. He was deeply 
interested in the inter-collegiate games, and he 
was highly excited over a certain coming foot- 
ball match which, according as it was won or 
lost, would be the glory or despair of the col- 
legiate year. 

"I will tell you what, fellows!" said one of 
his friends, " if Sanborn gets through this foot- 
ball match without swearing I shall think his 
change of heart is a genuine thing." 

When the decisive day came Jack drove a 
party of friends to the game on his drag. 

"It will be a dry lunch, fellows," said he 
when he invited them. "Nothing but ApoUi- 
naris water." 



no TALKS TO BOYS. 

But his friends knew very well that there 
would be a delicious luncheoij provided, and one 
who voiced the sentiments of all remarked that 
he "would rather go with Jack Sanborn and 
ApoUinaris water than with any other fellow 
and champagne/' So they all accepted the in- 
vitation, and they every one agreed to watch 
closely and see if some time during the day Jack 
did not forget himself and swear. But Jack 
never dreamed that he was under such a close 
surveillance. 

The game was an exciting one, and Jack and 
hundreds of others like him screamed and 
shouted and cheered their favorites on. The 
excitement became constantly more intense. 
The team of Jack's college was losing g^round. 
Jack was half beside himself as he stood upon 
the seat of his drag. Suddenly there was a sus- 
picion of foul play on the other side, and that 
roused Jack's blood to fever heat. His lips 
opened with a hoarse cry, but no words came. 
He clinched his teeth just in time. His shut 
fists plunged into his coat pockets, a g^reat vein 
swelled out on his forehead, and he sat suddenly 
down, gazing straight ahead, never seeing that 
struggling heap in the field which a minute 
before had held his whole attention, for he 
realized that he had very nearly disgraced his 
Irord and Master. There was one instant's 



ON BEING A CHRISTIAN. Ill 

prayer, an unspoken thought, and he was self- 
controlled once more and turned his attention to 
the game again. He never knew that his strug- 
gle was noticed, but every one of his compan- 
ions upon the drag had seen it, and they knew 
better than any one else could know what an 
effort it was for Jack to so control himself. 

Not long after this there was a revival in 
that college, and it began among Jack Sanborn's 
set. The old president — a saintly man — was 
filled with wonder, and called it a " marvellous 
providence,*' as indeed it was. Jack himself 
never knew that he had anything to do with it, 
but it is true that the sight of that noble resist- 
ance of his to sharp temptation convinced all 
who saw it of the reality of his religion, and 
made them long to know for themselves this 
Master whom he served so truly ; and so in the 
most natural way the beautiful influence spread, 
until more than a hundred young men sought 
that Saviour whom Jack had found and prom- 
ised to love and serve him for ever. 

And so, my boys who are Christians, never, 
never forget that it is by the common acts of 
your daily life that you are going to be judged ; 
it is by them that you will stand or fall; it is by 
them that you will influence others ; and it is the 
smallest things sometimes that are the most 
significant, 



112 TALKS TO BOYS. 

I think that one of the best texts for a Chris- 
tian boy to guide his life by was given by St. 
Paul; for he was a man who understood boy- 
nature very well, and boys just g^rowing into 
manhood were always very near his heart. 

This is the text I speak of, and I will leave it 
with you, making it the closing sentence of my 
book: 

" Therefore y whether ye eat or drinky or wliatso- 
ever ye doy do all to the glory of God'* 






■Sr^n/m 




. '■■:"v*.^*-;'^/'^''■ 










'^>t'%^<:v 



