SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 ObHST 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 lnttp://arclnive.org/details/williewilsonnewsOOdurs 
 
WILLIE WILSON, 
 
 THE 
 
 NEWSBOY, 
 
m 
 
Willie Wilsoi^ 
 
 THE 
 
 ILLIE WiL- 
 
 son's father 
 died when he 
 
 was SIX years 
 old. His 
 mother had very bad health ; 
 and his heart was often sad 
 as he saw her getting worse 
 every day. 
 
6 WILLIE WILSO^T, 
 
 When Willie was twelve 
 years old, lie had to think 
 about getting his living. His 
 mother wished to keep him a 
 little longer at his day school, 
 but she was too poor for that : 
 still she hoped that he would 
 'be able to go to an evening 
 school, and get on in his learn- 
 ing. After a time, it was set- 
 tled that he should sell papers 
 in the streets. He had tried 
 to get a place in a shop, but 
 everybody said he was small 
 of his age, and not strong 
 
THE NETTSBOY. 
 
 7 
 
 enougli for their work ; so 
 what was to be done ? 
 
 A kind gentleman had giv- 
 en liim fifty cents to start liim 
 in his new trade; but Ms 
 poor mother hung down her 
 head in ^rief. for she thouo^ht 
 it was not work suited to her 
 poor orphan boy. 
 
 " I wish to get some money 
 for you, mother " said Willie. 
 "I do not like to see you so 
 ill ; and you are not able to^ 
 sit up at night making shirts,, 
 t© buy food for us both, as 
 you used to do." 
 
8 
 
 WILLIE WILSO^T, 
 
 " But, my dear child, liow 
 can I let you go into the' 
 streets," replied his mother, 
 "where you may meet with 
 other newsboys, who cheat, 
 and fight, and take the name 
 of God in vain? I believe 
 many of these lads are honest 
 and ciYilj but there may be 
 some who are not so ; and I 
 fear that if you went every 
 day among bad boys, you too 
 might fall into evil ways." 
 
 " No, mother," said AVillie, 
 "I will not speak to theiit; 
 I will only say to the people, 
 
THE I^ETTSBOT. 9 
 
 as tliey pass along tlie streets, 
 ^ Will you please buy a pa- 
 per ? ' and when all are sold, 
 I will run home as fast as I 
 can." 
 
 When his mother saw how 
 he longed to earn something 
 for her, she gave her consent. 
 She then talked to him about 
 the pious lessons his dear fa- 
 ther had once tauo;ht him. 
 She told him that all of us 
 had evil hearts, which were 
 more ready to lead us into 
 sin than into what is right. 
 " We must pray to God," said 
 
10 TVTXLEE WILSON, 
 
 she, " that lie would, by His 
 Holy Spirit, create within us a 
 new and clean heart, so that 
 we may do his blessed will." 
 She also spoke about the love 
 of J esus Chiist in dying for us 
 on the cross, and that our sins 
 could only be forgiven for His 
 sake. She told him how his 
 father had loved the Saviour, 
 and that he died with a pray- 
 er on his lips that he might 
 meet them both in heaven. 
 
 The widow then knelt 
 down with her poor fatherless 
 boy, and prayed to God to 
 
THE KEWSBOT. 11 
 
 bless Hm. When they rose 
 up from their knees, she said, 
 "I will trust in the Lord, 
 AVillie, that he will be your 
 Father and the Guide of your 
 youth." 
 
 That night Willie crept 
 close to his mother, and they 
 both wept themselves to sleep. 
 
 Willie was up long before 
 the dawn, and with the fifty 
 cents that were given by 
 the gentleman, he sat out to 
 the place where the papers 
 were sold. 
 
 It was a dull day in the 
 
12 WILLIE TVTLSOK, 
 
 early part of the year when 
 lie began his first day's work. 
 The wind blew the sleet and 
 rain into his face, bringing 
 tears into his eyes, while his 
 body shook with cold. He 
 had not a good warm dress 
 like many boys, and his shoes 
 were old and worn. But his 
 heart was warm with love 
 to his sick mother, and he 
 did not mind what he passed 
 through, that he might take 
 home some money to get her 
 a cup of tea and some bread. 
 Willie was soon seen at the • 
 
THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 13 
 
 corner of a street, near to 
 where some coaches stood. 
 He began to call aloud the 
 titles of his papers, as he 
 heard the other newsboys do. 
 "This must be the way to 
 sell," thought Willie, and he 
 walked up the street calling 
 his papers. 
 
 At first it seemed strange 
 to him, and he felt ashamed ; 
 but in a little while this feel- 
 ing wore off. "To every one 
 w^ho passed he offered a pa- 
 per, but he did not sell them 
 so fi^eely as he had hoped to 
 
14 WILLIE WTLSOi^^", 
 
 do. One man, while Willie 
 was calling, told liim to liold 
 Ms tono^ue, and not make 
 sucli a noise in tlie streets. 
 
 Willie thouglit to himself, 
 *'He does not know that I 
 am selling them for my poor 
 mother." In this manner the 
 morning passed. 
 
 But had he sold all his pa- 
 pers ? No, he had nearly one- 
 half of them still left. He 
 now sat down on a step to 
 think what he should do. 
 He felt very hungry, and at 
 last thought he would go 
 
THE I^EWSBOY. 15 
 
 home, Loping tliat lie should 
 be able to sell the rest of the 
 papers the next day. He did 
 not consider that, unless he 
 sold them that day, he could 
 not sell them at all, as the 
 news would be old, and peo- 
 ple would not want old news- 
 papers. 
 
 Just at this moment two 
 boys who Vv^ere bigger than 
 Willie came up, and after 
 talkino; with him a little 
 while, they saw that he was 
 a simple little fellow, so they 
 said, " Do you want to make 
 
16 WILLIE WILSOI^", 
 
 a sixpence?" "That I do," 
 was Willie's quick reply. 
 "If you meet us to-night 
 down the lane by the gar- 
 dens" said they, "we will 
 get you to do a job for us, 
 and we will pay you well." 
 Willie did not quite under- 
 stand them, and was not will- 
 ing at first, but at length he 
 agreed to meet them. 
 
 When Willie went home, 
 he told his mother about the 
 boys, and that he was going 
 to earn sixpence in the eve 
 ning. 
 
THE NEWSBOY. iT 
 
 " I cannot consent to your 
 going," said she. " It would 
 not "be for your good. I an- 
 afraid that the boys intend 
 to do something that is bad. 
 What can they want you to do 
 after dark for sixpence ? Be- 
 sides, they are strangers to 
 
 1 us. You will stop at home, 
 and we will read the Bible, 
 and then get to rest soon, for 
 we have not coals to last for 
 
 j many hours." 
 
 I AYillie was sure that his 
 mother knew best, and he' 
 
18 WILLIE Wn.SON, 
 
 agreed to what she said with- 
 out a word. 
 
 jN"ext day, Willie went out 
 io buy some more papers, 
 though he could not get so 
 many as before, for he had 
 not so much money to lay 
 out. 
 
 As the clock struck eight 
 he saw a great crowd of peo- 
 ple coming down the street. 
 Some had sticks, and others 
 .made a great noise. 
 
 " We have caught the 
 thieves," said one man ; " they 
 
THE NEWSBOY. 
 
 19 
 
 have at last got into our 
 hands." 
 
 Willie was rather afraid, 
 and lie ran up upon a door- 
 step. There, as the crowd 
 passed, he was high enough 
 to see that they were leading 
 along two boys. What was 
 his surprise to find that these 
 were the very boys who had 
 offered to give him a job after 
 dark the nii^ht before, and to 
 pay him sixpence for it. 
 
 And as he stood on that 
 doorstep, he heard some of 
 the crowd say that these boys 
 
20 WILLIE WILSOI^-j 
 
 were caught robbing an old 
 lady's garden down a lane 
 over night. They were now 
 being taken before the magis- 
 trate, so that they might be 
 sent to prison. 
 
 Now Willie saw that his 
 mother had done wisely in 
 not permitting him to meet 
 the boys after dark. He at 
 once ran home to tell her 
 what he had seen, and to join 
 with her in thanking God for 
 saving him from the snare 
 that had been laid for hia 
 feet. 
 
THE NEWSBOY. 21 
 
 While tliey were talking 
 about tlie matter, the gentle- 
 man who had given Willie 
 tlie fifty cents came into 
 the room. By some means 
 he had heard about Willie's 
 kind conduct to his mothei^, 
 and how willing he was to 
 work; and then, too, he also 
 learned about the wicked 
 boys, and how the poor or- 
 phan had been kept from 
 evil. With all this he was 
 very pleased. 
 
 It was so, that just at that 
 time he wanted an honest, 
 
22 WILLIE WILSON, 
 
 willing boy to assist in his 
 warehouse, and lie had called 
 to make the offer for Willie 
 to have the place. This was 
 a happy turn in the history 
 of the poor lad. His mother, 
 we may be sure, gladly agreed 
 that he should accept the of 
 fer; and in a few days he 
 began his new duties. 
 
 If we had time we would 
 tell you of the joy there was 
 in the widow's room, when 
 Willie took home his first 
 week's wages ; but as we have 
 not, we will only say, May 
 
THE NEWSBOY. 23 
 
 God bless Willie Wilson, and 
 may he be long spared to be 
 a comfort to liis pious mother, 
 and repay the kindness of his 
 worthy master. 
 
The Right Ttje:n^i]S'g. 
 
 Y name 
 is Job 
 Joyce. I 
 live at 
 the white 
 cottage in the valley. If you 
 have passed that way, I am 
 sure you have stopped to look 
 at my cottage, for it has two 
 
26 TAKE THE 
 
 wliite rose-trees climbino: 
 round tlie door, and three bee- 
 hives in the garden. I have 
 been a sad rover in my time ; 
 and as I have seen not a little 
 of the world, I ought to be 
 able to tell you something 
 worth hearing. " Days should 
 speak, and years should teach 
 wisdom." If I can say a few 
 words to do you good, you 
 are welcome to my advice. 
 
 "When I was young, I was 
 a very wilfal sort of boy. To 
 many a kind word of counsel 
 I have answered, that " I was 
 
EIGHT TUENma. 27 
 
 old enougli to judge for my- 
 self." You need not wonder 
 then, that I often got myself 
 into trouble. 
 
 "Job," said my father to 
 me one afternoon in the win- 
 ter, " I want you to take these 
 two empty sacks to miller 
 Brown's." Now, the miller 
 lived in the next village, 
 about two miles away. "Be 
 sure you take the right turn- 
 ing. Job; and as it will be 
 quite dark before you can get 
 back, you had better take the 
 lantern with you. 
 
28 TAKE THE 
 
 "OVIi-epHed, "lean find 
 my way back in tlie dark 
 with my eyes shut ; there is 
 no fear of my taking the 
 wrong turning." 
 
 It was very foolish of me 
 to answer in this manner, as 
 our family had not long lived 
 in that part of the country, 
 and I was therefore rather a 
 stranger to the places around. 
 
 On my way home, the 
 night set in dark : there was ^ 
 neither moon nor star to be 
 seen. After first walking in 
 one way, and then in another, 
 
RIGHT TUENmG. 
 
 29 
 
 I was quite brouglit to a stand 
 Whilst tliinking what 1 
 should do, I heard some foot- 
 steps. They were those of a 
 man who was going home 
 from work ; but I could not 
 tell whether he were a bad 
 man or not. However, with a 
 good deal of fear I called out 
 to know if I were in the right 
 way for my father's house. 
 " Why, my lad," he said, " you 
 are quite out of the way ; you 
 have taken the wrong turn- 
 ing. 
 
 As the man was going the 
 
30 TAKE THE 
 
 same way as myself, I was 
 glad to have him for a guide ; 
 and by his friendly help I got 
 safely home, though in rather 
 a more humble temper of 
 mind than that in which I 
 set out. I wish this had been 
 the only time in my life when 
 I did not take the right tui^n- 
 ing. 
 
 Shortly after this, I went 
 to work at the Manor Fo^rm. 
 It was agreed that I should 
 live in the house, and sleep 
 in the same room, over the 
 stable, along with a fellow- 
 
EIGHT TUE:N^rN-G. 31 
 
 servant, the carter. Before I 
 went to my place, my pious 
 motlier said to me, "Job, if 
 you would liave the blessing 
 of God rest upon you, do not 
 forget to pray to Him every 
 nio-ht and mornino:." The 
 first night I retired to rest, 
 the young carter was soon in 
 bed, but I sat down on an old 
 chair in the room. "Why 
 don't you get into bed. Job ?" 
 said the carter. Ah, why did 
 I not ? The fact was I was 
 ashamed to pray, and yet 
 afraid to lie down to sleep 
 
32 
 
 TAKE THE 
 
 without prayer. The fear 
 that the young carter would 
 laugh at me made me a coward. 
 I wished that I had slept in 
 another room, or that my fel- 
 low-servant would fall asleep. 
 There was a struggle in my 
 heart. My duty clearly was 
 to kneel down — to make a 
 decided stand for what is 
 right — to obey my mother, 
 and to seek my mother's God 
 and Saviour. But I gave 
 way. I got into bed without 
 prayer, and in a short time I 
 was fast asleep. It was a 
 
EIGHT TUEI^LN-G. 83 
 
 toning point in my life, and 
 I failed to take tlie right turn- 
 ing. 
 
 Well would it have been 
 for me if I had stood firm to 
 duty, for I was soon thrown 
 into the midst of snares and 
 trials. You may be sure of 
 this, that if you give up pray- 
 er, you will get on to slippeiy 
 places, and be in the highway 
 of sin. So I found it. 
 
 My pious father and moth 
 er were soon laid in the 
 grave, and I quickly forgot 
 all their wise advice and 
 
34 
 
 TAKE THE 
 
 warnings. Their Bible was 
 sold for a few pence. The 
 house of God was given up ; 
 and I got among those who 
 told me that " I might live as 
 I liked, and get to heaven at 
 last." There are, alas, many 
 in this world who are ready- 
 to help on the young to ruin. 
 
 After a time I got tired of 
 farming, and enlisted as a sol 
 dier to a sergeant who came 
 into our villao^e with ribbons 
 on his cap, and a medal on 
 his breast ; but not liking the 
 duties of military life, I ran 
 
EIGHT TUENma 35 
 
 away, and getting to tlie sea- 
 shore, I engaged myself as a 
 sailor. I thought it a'fine thing 
 to visit many lands, and see 
 the world. A sailor's life 
 may be all very well in fine 
 weather, but storms will 
 come, and the smoothest sea 
 will be lashed by the winds 
 into fury. Certainly our ship 
 met with storms enough, and 
 in one of them she was wreck- 
 ed on a rock. Of the whole 
 crew three only were saved. 
 
 That was a dreadful nif^ht 
 when I found myself on the 
 
36 TAKE THE 
 
 top of a rock in tlie midst of 
 the wide ocean. The thunder 
 roared, the lightening flashed 
 across the sky, and the waves 
 rose like mountains : you may 
 suppose that I was filled with 
 terror. Though I had been 
 ashamed to pray before the 
 carter in the little room over 
 the stable, I was not ashamed 
 to call upon God before my 
 two ship-mates on the top of 
 that rock. I cast myself on 
 my knees, and prayed to God 
 to save me, body and soul, 
 for Jesus Christ's sake. Well, 
 
RIGHT TTJENESTG. 37 
 
 tlie dreary night passed away . 
 in tlie morning the storm be- 
 gan to lull, and to our joy a 
 ship hove in sight. We made 
 signal to it, which was seen, 
 and a boat was sent to take 
 us on board. I returned, in 
 due time, to my own land, a 
 mser man than I left it. 
 
 It was some time after I 
 had given up a sailor's life, 
 that God, by His Holy Spirit, 
 brought me to see that I was 
 in the broad way that leads 
 to death. I felt that I was a 
 sinner ; but then I was taught 
 
38 TAKE THE 
 
 that Jesus Clirist was a Sav- 
 iour, able and willing to save 
 the chief of sinners. I be- 
 lieved in Him with all my 
 heart, and thi'ough His grace 
 was led to repent of sin, and 
 to live, as I hope, a life devo- 
 ted to His service. 
 
 As I now sit in my old arm 
 chair in the front of my cot- 
 tage, I think of days that are 
 past. While I cherish a good 
 hope of heaven through the 
 merits of my Saviour, I wish 
 to do a little good to others. 
 And so I say to you, my young 
 
EIGHT TURNrN"G. 39 
 
 friends, — Be sure tliat you 
 take the right turning. There 
 are laany false guides ready 
 erLough to lead you in tlie 
 wrong way ; but if you liave 
 been trained, as I was, in the 
 ways of piety, stand fast by 
 your early instructions, and 
 they will stand fast by you. 
 
 There is a path that leads to God ; 
 
 All others go astray ; 
 Narrow, but pleasant is the road, 
 
 And Christians love the way. 
 
40 TAKE THE 
 
 It leads straight througli tliis world 
 of sin, 
 
 And dangers must be passed : 
 But those who humbly walk therein 
 Will go to heaven at last. 
 
 How shall a feeble pilgrim dare 
 This narrow path to tread ? 
 
 For on the way is many a snare 
 For youthful travellers spread : 
 
 While the broad road, where thou- 
 sands go. 
 
 Lies near and open fair ; 
 Aud many turn asid-e, I know, 
 
 To walk with sinners there. 
 
EIGHT TUEKEKG. 41 
 
 But lest my feeble steps should 
 slide, 
 
 Or wander frgm Thy way, 
 Lord, condescend to be my guide, 
 And I shall never stray. 
 
 Then I may go without alarm, 
 And trust His word of old, 
 *' The lambs He'll gather with His 
 arm, 
 
 ■ And lead them to the fold." 
 
 Thus I may safely venture through, 
 
 Beneath my Shepherd's care. 
 And keep the gate of heaven in 
 view. 
 
 Till I shall enter there. 
 
ALWAYS 
 DO RIGHT. 
 
 FIGHT ! 
 
 a fight r 
 
 cried 
 .Will 
 Racket, 
 tlie wheelwriglit's boy, as he 
 threw down his hammer, and 
 ran up the green lane. 
 
44 ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 
 
 "Fi2:lit him! %lit him!" 
 shouted Fred Parker, the "ba- 
 ker's apprentice ; at the same 
 time, placing his tray on the 
 ground, he rushed to join a 
 crowd on the village green. 
 
 "What is it all about?" 
 called out Ben Frost, the saw- 
 yer, as he stood at the ale- 
 house door, and the next 
 moment pushed his way, 
 with eager looks, to the same 
 spot. 
 
 " I don't wish to fight," said 
 John Smith, a meek, pale- 
 faced boy, in black dress, and 
 
ALWAYS BO EIGHT. 45 
 
 a band of crape arouud Lis 
 cap ; wliile before liim stood 
 Ned Brown, with Ms jacket 
 tlirown off, and liis sliirt 
 sleeves tucked up above Lis 
 elbows. 
 
 " Why not fight him V cried 
 some of the men and boys : 
 "he struck you, and you 
 should hit him again." 
 
 " But my mother has told 
 me that I must not fight," 
 said John ; " and I will not 
 disobey her. I have not done 
 any harm, and I don't see 
 
46 ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 
 
 wliy Ned should wish me to 
 fight." 
 
 No sooner did John thus 
 speak, than the crowd began 
 to mock and shout aloud. 
 " He is a big coward, that he 
 is. He is afraid to fight be- 
 cause his mother says he must 
 not and Ned Brown stamp- 
 ed with his foot, and looked 
 fiercer than ever. 
 
 Just at this moment, Mr. 
 Morris, the schoolmaster, was 
 drawn by the noise to the 
 place; and quickly making 
 his way through the throng, 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 47 
 
 he stood between the two 
 boys, and began to inquire 
 what all the noise was about. 
 
 He soon saw how matters 
 stood, and turning to Ned 
 Brown, he desired him to go 
 at once to his work in the 
 mill, while he gently took 
 John Smith aside from the 
 noisy crowd, that he might 
 ask him a few questions. 
 
 " Why would you not fight 
 with Ned Brown T said the 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 " If I were to fight him," 
 replied John Smith, " perhaps 
 
48 ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 
 
 I should hurt liim, and I do 
 not want to do him any 
 harm." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Mor- 
 ris. 
 
 "And if I did not hurt 
 him," added John, "I fear 
 that he would hurt me, as he 
 is a stronger boy than I am." 
 
 " No doubt of it," said the 
 schoolmaster. 
 
 "I do not think, sir, that 
 fighting is the right or best 
 way of settling a quarrel." 
 
 " That is quite correct," ad- 
 ded Mr. Morris. "I wish 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 49 
 
 everybody ttouglit as you do ; 
 the world would be all the 
 better for it. " 
 
 "Then, sir, I would rather 
 be called a coward than do 
 what I know to be wrong." 
 
 "Very good again," said 
 the schoolmaster, as he laid 
 his hand on the head of thf 
 peace-loving boy. 
 
 " And more than that, sir, 
 to fight is not only against 
 what my mother has taughi 
 me, but also against the com- 
 mands of our Saviour, who 
 
50 ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 
 
 has told us to love one an- 
 other." 
 
 Jolin Smith went home 
 with a light and happy heart 
 "^hat day ; and was not 
 ashamed to tell his mother 
 all that had taken place. 
 When she heard how her son 
 had acted, she thanked God 
 who had enabled him to do 
 rio^ht, even when he had to 
 bear ^vith scorn and mockery 
 for so doing. 
 
 For some days it was the 
 talk of the rude boys of the 
 village that John Smith waa 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 51 
 
 notliing better than a coward, 
 because he bad revised to 
 figbt Ned Brown ; yet it was 
 not long before tbey bad to 
 change their ninds on the 
 subject. 
 
 One afternoon, as John was 
 going on an errand for his 
 uncle, he came to the old 
 stone bridge, which crosses 
 the river near to Gaffer 
 "Wood's, when he heard loud 
 cries of distress. On lookino- 
 along the bank towards the 
 old mill, where the waters 
 run strongly, he saw a lad 
 
52 ALWAYS DO EIGBT. 
 
 struggling in tlie stream. The 
 unhappy boy had tried in 
 vain to reach the shore, and 
 was now ready to sink. 
 
 In a moment John cast off 
 his coat and shoes, and plung- 
 ed into the water, for he was 
 a good smmmer. He soon 
 reached the drowning lad, 
 and with one hand clasped 
 him firmly by the arm, and 
 with the other struck out for 
 the shore. With much skill 
 and courage he brought the 
 lad to land ; and to his great 
 joy found that he had been 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 53 
 
 tlie means of saving figbting 
 Ned Brown from an early 
 deatli. 
 
 Ned was not a little touch- 
 ed at the conduct of John 
 Smith, and grateful for being 
 saved fi'om a watery grave. 
 He took his deliverer with 
 both hands, and as the tears 
 fell down his face, thanked 
 him over and over again. 
 Then he asked to be forgiven 
 for having so often spoken 
 unkindly to him, and for so 
 wickedly trying to provoke 
 him to fight. 
 
54 ALWAYS BO EIGHT. 
 
 "You will not strike me 
 again " said John ; " will you^ 
 
 "No" cried the penitent 
 boy ; " and I will take care 
 that no one else does ; that ] 
 will" 
 
 It was soon reported 
 through the village that 
 John Smith had, at the risk 
 of his own life, saved Ned 
 Brown from being drowned. 
 "Whatever had been the opin- 
 ion before among the young 
 men and boys, there was now 
 no doubt in their minds who 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 55 
 
 lad sliown true courage. 
 They all agreed that John 
 wsis a brave boy ; and when 
 he parsed the cottages, with 
 Ned by his side, many a kind 
 and civil word was spoken to 
 him both by old and young. 
 Even the wheelwright's boy 
 and the baker's apprentice 
 now received him with much 
 respect, and thought it was 
 quite plain that a lad might 
 be truly brave at heart, even 
 though he would not fight. 
 
 " Let the conduct of John 
 Smith," said ]Mr. Morris, just 
 
6^ ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 
 
 before tlie village school 
 broke up one day, " be an ex- 
 ample to you all. He who 
 dares to obey Ms parents, and 
 wtio seeks to fear God, thougk 
 it draws upon Mm an ill name, 
 proves that he has a truly 
 brave spirit. While he who 
 is ashamed to walk in an up- 
 rio^ht coui^se, lest those who 
 are around should mock him, 
 is without true courage. If 
 all people were of John 
 Smith's mind, the world 
 would be much happier than 
 it is. Mind what I say, my 
 
ALWAYS DO EIGHT. 57 
 
 boys — and I- would say tlie 
 same to girls also ; — Always 
 DO EIGHT — in all things^ in 
 all ^lace^^ and at all time^^ 
 
BOYS AT PLAY. 
 
 ON tlie cheerful village green, 
 Skirted round with houses small, 
 
 All the boys and girls are seen, 
 Playing there with hoop and balL 
 
 Now they frolic hand in hand, 
 Making many a merry chain^; 
 
 Then they form a warlike band, 
 Marching o'er the level plain. 
 
 Now ascends the worsted ball, 
 
 High it rises in the air ; 
 Or against the cottage wall. 
 
 Up and down it bounces there. 
 
BOYS AT PLAT. 59 
 
 Then tlie hoop,-with even pace, 
 Runs before tlie merry throngs ; 
 
 Joy is seen'in every face, 
 Joy is heard in cheerful songs. 
 
 Rich array and mansions proud, 
 Gilded toys, and costly fare. 
 
 Would not make the little crowd 
 Half so happy as they are. 
 
 Then contented with my state. 
 Where true pleasure may be seen, 
 
 Let me envy not the great 
 On a cheerful village green. 
 
 THE END* 
 
I