Title Page
 The return from school
 The dull day
 The rude boy
 The gentleman

Title: winter vacation, or, How to be a gentleman.
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00058398/00001
 Material Information
Title: winter vacation, or, How to be a gentleman.
Series Title: winter vacation, or, How to be a gentleman.
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Publisher: American Baptist Publication Society
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Manufacturer: George Charles, stereotyper
Kind & Baird, printers
Publication Date: 1853
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00058398
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltuf - ALJ0415
alephbibnum - 002239877

Table of Contents
    Title Page
        Page 1
        Page 2
    The return from school
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
    The dull day
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
    The rude boy
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    The gentleman
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
Full Text





TIila blpin# :

entered aoording to Act of Congre., in the yer 1863, by the


In the Clerk's Oce of the District Court of the United State, in
and Ar the Eatern District of Pennsylvana.

s;i;rrvr U stom C"AZ E .
51151 DY KING & DM1






"I WISH it were four o'clock," said
Mary Woods to her mother, as she
looked at the clock; I never knew the
hands go round so slowly."
You had better take my advice, my
love," said her mamma, and busy your.
4elf about something; it is the best re-
"ipe for making time fly."
"But what shall I do? Frank can-


not be here before half past four, and it
is now only three."
"Three o'clock already I" said a voice
from the other side of the room. I am
afraid my purse will not be finished in
time. I had no idea it was so late."
Mrs. Woods looked at Mary and smiled.
Mary understood well what the smile
meant, but she answered,
"Indeed, mamma, I cannot sit down
soberly to any thing, I feel in such a
t. You know we have not seen
Sfor so long; and now we are go-
ing to have such delightful times to-
gether. I do hope there will be a fine
fall of snow as there was last Winter
Vacation. Do you remember, Sophy,
how much fun we had? but I forgot,"
she added, checking herself, as she
looked towards her sister, who was half-
reclined in an invalid chair, with a pair
of crutches near her.
"No," said Sophy, cheerfully, not re-


piningly, "I shall not be able to run
and slide, and play with the sled. How
goodnatured Frank always was with his
sled. Dear brother how glad I shall
be to see him home. I shall not have
to torment myself with these disagree-
able crutches any more. I know he
will lend me his good arm to lean on,
and then I shall not be afraid to try and
walk in the street. But I must not
talk while finishing my purse, or I shall
make mistakes."
Mary heaved a sigh of impatience,
and again strained her eyes from the
window, and then looked at the clock.
"I thought, Mary, I heard you say
Frank should have some of your nice
tea cakes, the first evening of his return
home," said Mrs. Woods. "And here
are my keys-you may take out a pot of
Mary ran off, delighted to have some-
thing to do that would give her brother


pleasure. Frank was a lively boy of
fourteen. His sisters always antici-
pated his return from school with great
pleasure. The Winter Vacation was
looked forward to with peculiar delight.
It was the season for family gatherings;
little presents were interchanged, and
general kindness and cheerfulness al.
ways prevailed.
The shades of evening were closing
in. Sophy's purse was finished. Mary
had completed her preparations for tea
to her entire satisfaction, and she was
now sitting at the window with little
Charlie on her knee, who was watching
the lighting up of the street lamps. Mr.
Woods had promised to go to the rail-
road depot on leaving his office, and to
bring Frank home with him.
"There they are! there they are I"
cried Mary. "Frank is loaded with
his cloak and umbrella, and papa is car-
rying the carpet-bag."


Charlie began to clap his hands and
caper about. A flush of pleasure came
into Sophy's cheeks; but she remained
quite still, with a slight feeling of dis-
appointment that she could not spring
forward like Mary to meet her brother.
In another minute he was in the room.
"How d'ye do, mother; well, girls!
What! Sophy, not able to run about
yet? We came on at such a famous
rate in the cars. There was a fellow
pulled out his watch, and declared we
were going thirty miles an hour. But
it was cold walking home, I tell you.
And I say, Moll, is not supper nearly
ready? for I am as hungry as a wolf."
"It is quite ready," said Mary, a
little angry to be called Moll, a nick-
name she could not bear. Frank ran
down into the dining-room, but Mr.
Woods remained to give his arm to hii
poor little lame girl. Sophy was disap
pointed that her brother should not


have assisted her down-stairs, and she
had to brush away a tear as she fol-
lowed. Nothing, however, must cloud
Frank's first evening at home, and both
sisters concealed their little vexations.
Frank talked about himself incessantly
the whole evening. All were so well
pleased with him that he was encour-
aged to run on without check.
"Do play with me," said Charlie.
He had sat for a long time in a corner
"Run away, I don't want to be
bored," Frank answered abruptly, and
went on talking. "Do play with me,"
repeated the little voice, over and over
again. At last Frank turned impa-
tiently, and caught him up by the arms,
and swung him roughly round. Charlie
screamed, and begged to be put down;
but Frank continued his violent play,
and ended with rolling him over on the
carpet. Charlie cried violently; Mrs.


Woods picked him up, and said to
Frank, "You should be more gentle
with your little brother."
"He hurt me," said Charlie between
his sobs, "he hurt me very much."
" "Baby l" said Frank in a sneering
He is not a baby," said Mrs. Woods,
"and indeed, Frank, you seem to have
forgotten there is a baby in the house.
You have not asked after her once."
"Sure enough I had forgotten all
about her little ladyship." His mother
looked very serious, while Mary ex-
claimed, "Why, Frank 1"
"How is Fanny? I suppose she is
well enough," he asked in a surly tone.
No, she is not very well," said his
mother, still looking very serious.
"Come, Charlie, say good night, all
round, and then come to bed." Charlie
directly did as he was told, giving a kis
Sto each in turn. When he came to


Frank, he said, "Good night, Frank,
my boy," and got on tip-toe for a kiss;
but Frank put him off with a shake of
the hand, saying, "Good night, little
chap; never mind the kissing."
As Frank took up his bed-candle the
night, he said, "I say, mother, I have
promised to spend to-morrow with Jack
Do you mean you wish my permits.
sion to go?"
"Why, not exactly," said Frank, he-
sitating, "for I have already promised.
Only I thought I would tell you."
"Very considerate, certainly. I thank
you, sir," said Mrs. Woods, coldly.
"Now, ma', don'ttalk that way," said
Frank, forgetting for a moment, that he
had decided it was babyish to say
mamma. Jack is the best fellow in the
whole school, and so manly I am
sure you might let me go."
I have not refused you, Frank, but


I think it would have been more be-
coming to have asked mine, or your
father's leave, before making an engage-
ment of this kind."
You always treat me like a child,"
cid Frank, pettishly.
"And what are you ? scarcely a man
yet, I think," said his mother, as she
playfully tapped his smooth cheek.
"No'appearance of whiskers yet." Had
any one but his mother taken this
liberty, Frank would have felt himself
dreadfully insulted. As it was he colored,
and took himself off to bed.

-4 6



"I WISH Miss Mills were coming to
give us our lessons as usual," said Sophy,
with a deep sigh, as Frank banged the
street door after him. "It does not
seem a bit like a holiday."
How Frank is altered 1" said Mary.
"He is grown so rough. I asked him
to pick up a ball of thread for me, just
now, that had dropped from my hands,
and instead of doing so, he kicked it
downstairs, and then went away whist-
I do not like to find fault with him,'
said Sophy, but I think he might have
spent the first day of his holidays with


"So I told him, but he answered he
could not be bored staying at home
with a parcel of girls and babies." And
Mary burst into tears at the recollection
of the unkind speech.
They saw nothing of him the whole
day, for Frank was not home till very
late, and no one but his mother sat up
for him.
All were assembled in the breakfast
room the next morning, and prayers
were over before Frank made his ap-
pearance. When he did so, his father
looked very grave, but his sisters could
not repress a smile at his altered looks.
His hair was glossy with pomatum.
He had induced his shirt-collar to stand
up, and assisted the operation bftneans
of a splendid new cravat, arranged with
an enormous tie in front.
"Why, brother, you are quite a beau,"
exclaimed Mary; but her brother si-
lenced her with a very black look.


Sophy had not observed it, and as he
sat down by her, she observed, "In-
deed, Frank, your collar does not look
well, it is not intended to be worn that
way, and you have put the shining and
stitched part on the inside."
"I wish you would both keep your
remarks to yourselves. I do not com-
ment on your dress, young ladies."
"Come, come, Frank, do not be so
cross about a trifle," said his mother.
The conversation was here diverted,
by Mr. Woods asking Sophy when she
intended to try and walk out.
You must make the effort, my little
girl. You know the doctor advises it
continually. He says if you do not ex-
ercise the limb you will lose the use
of it altogether."
"I would try to walk out, papa," an-
swered Sophy, "but I am so much
afraid of using my crutches in the street
ever since they threw me down."


"That excuse will not do now, for
you have your brother to lend you his
arm." Frank had now finished his
hasty meal, and was hurrying from the
room: "Do you hear, Frank ?"
"Did you speak to me, sir?" said
Frank, stopping short.
"Yes; I was telling your sister she
will now have your arm to lean on, and
I wish her to take a walk out this
morning. You can take her round the
square. But no," he added, seeing
Frank's gesture of impatience, "I will
come home early from my ofia, and
take you out myself. I see your brother
is unwilling to do it."
"I have made no objection, I am
sure," said Frank, who was afraid to
offend his father. But as soon as Mr.
Woods had left the house he said to
"Now do hurry, if you choose to go,


but I thought you had a pair of
"For shame, brother," said Mary, her
eyes flashing with indignation, "when
you know that poor Sophia got a fall
with her crutches in the street, and al-
most fainted with the fright."
"Never mind, Mary," said Sophy,
who was now in tears, "I had much
rather not go."
Nonsense," said Frank, "I wish you
would put on your bonnet at once."
"Indeed I had rather not go."
"What plagues you girls are, to be
sure. You have kept me from my walk
with a lot of fellows who will be wait-
ing for me, and now you refuse to go,
just to get me into disgrace with father."
"You know that is not my reason,
Frank. How can you be so unkind ?"
"Well then, get ready at once."
Mary flew for her sister's bonnet and
mantle, and she was soon equipped for


the walk. Sophy, independent of her
lameness, was in very delicate health.
The unpleasant scene before leaving
the house, had agitated her, and made
her very weak and tremulous. With
all her desire to walk fast, she could
move but very slowly. Frank was out
of humor, and cheered her with no
encouraging word. When they were
about half way round the square, they
saw a knot of boys, lingering about, as
if waiting for Frank.
"Can't you come on, and try to walk
a little better?" said Frank, impatiently,
"It must look so absurd to see you
limping and panting in that manner."
Sophy was stung to the quick; her
cheeks became scarlet. She said no-
thing, but redoubled her exertions.
When they reached the door Frank
instantly left her, and ran down the
steps to join his companions. Mary
met Sophy, as she was toiling up stairs,


and was'quite frightened at her appear-
"Hush, say nothing to mamma. I shall
be better presently." Mary helped her
to reach her room.
"Indeed, I must call mamma," she
said, "your hands are burning, and
your cheeks glow like fire. I am sure
you are in a fever. You have been
hurrying yourself too much on account
of Frank."
This Sophy could not deny, but she
would not, even to her sister, repeat
Frank's unkind words. Their mother
at this moment came into the room.
She advised her daughter to remain
quietly up-stairs, or she might bring on
an attack of nervous head-ache, to which
she was subject. Mrs. Woods had ob-
served from the window the way in
which Frank had hurried his sister
round the square, and left her on the
door-step, but she approved in her little


girl the wish to screen her brother from
blame, and therefore took no notice.
She also trusted to Frank's kindness of
heart, that he would feel self-reproach
on seeing his sister so unwell.
"How is this?" said Mr. Woods, as
he came in to dinner, "two of our party
absent from table."
Sophy came in so much tired from
her walk, that I advised her to remain
in her' own room," said Mrs. Woods;
"but I do not know what has become
of Frank."
"I believe he is in his room," said
Mary. "Perhaps he did not hear the
dinner-bell. Shall I call him ?"
"No, my dear, you need not leave
the table, Sally can knock at the door."
The girl presently returned, saying,
"Please ma'am, Mr. Frank is very
sick. He says he don't want any dinner."
Mrs. Woods was starting up, when M.
Woods said, I will go to him, and see


what is the matter." He returned in a
few minutes, with a smile playing around
his mouth.
"The foolish boy I he has been trying
to smoke a cigar. The smell of the
tobacco smoke instantly betrayed him;
I am very glad it has made him sick.
I found him lying on the floor, and
his face as white as the table cloth.
He is very much mortified, and has
been sufficiently punished, so we will
not laugh at him about it. He has
promised me never to touch tobacco in
any form again."
"Poor Frank 1" said his mother.
"But indeed, I shall not regret that he
has made himself sick, and lost his
dinner, if he is effectually cured of that
ungentlemanly habit of smoking."
"He told me with a very rueful face,
that all the fellows smoke, and he
wanted to do as much, it looks so
manly. 'Manly!' I answered, 'then


every ragged urchin of five or six years
jld, with a stump of a cigar in his
mouth, you consider manly, I suppose.
But I could not scold him, he looked so
The day passed over, and the sisters
found the second day of the holidays
even more melancholy than the first.
Frank and Sophy were both better in
the evening, however, and came down
into the parlor. Sophy had been so
unwell all day, that she hoped her
brother would feel sorry on seeing her
pale face, and make some apology for
his unkindness. But Frank was too
much out of humor with the result of
his morning's experiment, and its mor-
tifying discovery, to think of any thing
else, and a dull evening closed a still
duller day.



MRs. Woods had noticed that Frank
could talk of no one but Jack Forest.
With him it was always 'Jack said
this,' or 'Jack did that.' She wished
to know more of one whom her son
took for his model, and being also will-
ing to gratify Frank, she told.him he
might bring John Forest to spend the
day with him. Frank was highly de-
lighted; the girls also were pleased, as
they thus made sure that their brother
would spend the day at home. It
proved to be very rainy, which tended
to further their wishes.
Young Forest arrived, and Frank in.
produced him to his mother and sisters.


He was a stout, awkward looking boy,
but Frank thought him a model of per-
fection, because he wore a frock-coat,
and dangled a watch and seals. He
talked very loud and familiarly,was not
in the least abashed in the presence of
strangers, and had a very unpleasant
way of saying, "Ma'am ? Sir ?" to oblige
persons to repeat whenever he was
spoken to.
The girls wished to oblige Frank by
helping him to entertain his friend.
Mary tried to engage him in conversa-
tion, but his answers showed he was
laughing at her, so she gave it up.
Sophy began-to show him a book of
prints. Before they were half through
it, Jack gave a very undisguised stretch,
and a yawn, and exclaimed,
"I vote pictures humbugs. Can't we
have some fun ?"
He strode to the window, and amused
himself in laughing at the passers-by, as


they jumped over the swollen gutter.
Soon tired of this amusement, he said
in a loud whisper to Frank, Can't we
go somewhere else ? we can have no fun
with those girls in the room."
They heard it, and, at once taking
the hint, went to play with the children
in the nursery.
Why have you both left the parlor?"
said Mrs. Woods.
"The boys evidently wished to get
rid of us, mamma, so we came away."
"But, my dears, I wish one of you, at
least, would stay there; I do not like
they should be left in my drawing-room
by themselves. Frank's great friend
seems to me a very rude boy, and I do
not know what mischief he may do. I
observed him fingering all the knick-
knacks on the centre-table, and the
Mary very reluctantly returned to
the parlor. When she did so, she found


all the windows wide open, and the rain
beating in, while the boys were standing
near a bird cage, laughing and enjoying
themselves very much.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed,
"Sophy's bird seems almost frightened
to death."
At the same moment she espied a
large cat that Jack was vainly trying
to hide under his coat.
You cruel boys," she cried, "to find
sport in tormenting a poor bird."
Jack burst into a rude laugh.
"That's capital," he exclaimed. "I
do love to see a girl in a passion." And
he again held up the cat to the cage.
"For shame," said Mary, "I shall go
and tell mamma how you are treating
Sophia's bird."
"Come, come, si," said Frank, de-
taining her. "I know you don't want
to get me a rowing. The cat came on
the balcony, and mewed to be let in,


and what could a fellow do but admit
her? Drive her out,Jack."
Mary, who did not wish to get her
brother into disgrace, hastened to shut
the windows, and arrange the curtains;
and to wipe the chairs and the end of
the piano, that had been wetted by the
rain. Fortunately, before they could
invent any further mischief, dinner was
Jack was now introduced to Mr.
Woods. Frank listened, half admiring,
half shocked, as Jack talked to his
father in the same free and easy strain
he had used to himself; expressed his
opinion of the different things that were
put on his plate, and asked a variety
of impertinent questions. It was in
vain that Mr. Woods gave him a great
many rebuffs. Some minds are so ob-
tuse that they will not take a set down.
The afternoon continued wet; and
after lounging about, and thumbing some


books, the two boys adjourned to the
"I have thought of a famous trick,"
said Jack. "Does not that door lead
to the kitchen ?"
"It does; but what of that ?'
"You don't keep a man, do you ?"
"No; there's only Sally, and the lit-
tle maid, and a washerwoman comes on
"Good; then as this is Wednesday,
she is not there to-day, and there will
be nobody to spoil our fun. To have a
washerwoman rush out upon you is no
joke, let me tell you, when she is in a
Having thus ascertained there were
only timid girls in the kitchen, this
manly boy, as Frank considered him,
went on to tell his plan.
"I have some fire-works in my pocket.
Here is a chaser that I intend to fling
in at the key-hole. It will fly round


the kitchen like wild-fire, and bounce
and sputter famously; and then how
they will holloa. Here goes I"
And with these words he threw in,
his missile. Both boys stood listening
breathless for the result.
Soon it went phiz-z-z,bang pop, pop,
bang! over and over again. Scream
upon scream followed, with many ejacu-
lations of 'Gracious me!' 'Did you
ever?' and the sounds of running and
jumping into all parts of the kitchen.
Jack and Frank could hardly stand for
Presently they heard a prolonged
shriek, and a child screaming, as if in
pain or terror. A loud crash, and a
cry of 'fire fire ensued.
"It is poor little Charlie," said Frank,
turning pale.
Jack instantly caught up his cap,
and darted out of the house, Frank


burst into the kitchen to see what had
The sight that met his eyes, made his
knees tremble. Charlie stood in the
middle of the kitchen, wrapped in flames.
Sally had caught the ironing-blanket
off the table, precipitating the irons on
the floor, and was endeavoring to throw
him down and roll him in it. The child,
almost beside himself with terror, was
resisting and struggling violently. At
length, however, she succeeded, and
with much difficulty extinguished the
Mrs. Woods, who had been alarmed
by the cries, and still more by the smell
of burning, now came hurrying into the
kitchen. Charlie ran into her arms.
His little neck and arms were covered
with blisters, and his pretty curls all
singed and blackened. His mother took
him gently in her lap, sent the little
maid for a doctor, and then tenderly


soothing and caressing him, removed
his burnt clothes, and carried him up.
When she reached the nursery, the
thought of the dreadful death her dar-
ling had escaped, rushed upon her mind,
and quite overcame her. She just had
strength to lay him on the bed, and
then sank fainting on the floor.
Mary had just taken the baby from
the cradle, and therefore could not
hasten, as she wished, to her mother's
assistance. Sophy went to her as fast
as her agitation and her lameness would
allow, but she was quite unable to raise
her from the floor. While looking round,
in perplexity what to do, Mary per-
ceived her brother at the half open door.
She beckoned hastily to him, put Fanny
in his arms with a strict charge to keep
her in the warm parlor, and flew to her
mother's side.
Mrs. Woods, who was not in a dead


faint, was slowly recovering. With a
great effort she seconded her daughters'
exertions to raise her and place her in
a chair. As soon as she could stand
she turned to the bed where Charlie was
stifling his sobs. "Are you in great
pain, my darling ?"
"Poor mamma! poor mamma fall,"
said the little fellow, bursting into tears
"Mamma is better now," said Mrs.
Woods, quite touched to find the child
was grieving for her, not for himself.
The doctor presently arrived. He
found the burns not serious, owing to
Sally's presence of mind in smothering
the flames. The dressing them was,
however, a tedious and painful opera-
tion, though Charlie bore it bravely.
Frank, in the meanwhile, had taken
the baby, as his sister desired, into the
parlor. It was the first time he had
held her in his arms, except for half a


minute, since the beginning of the Win-
ter Vacation. She had just awaked
from sleep in high good humor, and
he had no difficulty in amusing her.
Frank was a kind-hearted boy, when
not overruled by the idea that it was
not manly to be good natured. Now
that he was alone with the baby, he
danced her about, whistled to her, suf-
fered her to snatch at his hair, and
laughed himself at her laugh of delight.
Just as he was in the act of holding her
high above his head, his hair in disorder,
his stand-up collar and neck-tie all tum-
bled and drooping, visitors were an-
nounced, and ushered by the little maid
into the parlor. Frank was deeply mor-
tified. It was so undignified to be
caught in such a plight; playing with
a baby like a girl.
Mr. and Mrs. Pelham came forward
to shake hands with him, and began
admiring little Fanny, but Frank almost


rudely turned her 'way, and endeavored
to thrust her into Annie's arms.
"Please Master Frank, I can't take
her just now," said the little maid in a
loud whisper, "I am tying up Sally's
hands, they are burnt awful bad."
Frank had no choice but to sit down
with her again, which he did, looking
very sullen, and repelling all Fanny's
efforts to engage him in another game
of play.
You make a very good nurse," said
Mrs. Pelham, "how fond the little clea-
ture seems of you."
"She need not be," said Frank, blunt-
ly, I am sure I hardly ever take her;
it is not the work for boys."
"Indeed I think it is," said Mrs.
Pelham, smiling. "You have good,
strong arms to dance them in the air.
I have noticed they are always delighted
to go to a gentleman."
This last speech somewhat restored


Frank's equanimity, and he again con-
descended to toss baby in his arms.
You put me in mind of my Alfred,"
continued the lady. "The baby cries
to go to him even from me."
"Doesn't he go to school then?" asked
Frank, rather contemptuously.
He does, but he is now at home, as
I suppose you are, for the Winter Vaca-
tion. I should have brought him with
me to-day, but he is gone out with his
sister, to buy sugar plums and New Year's
gifts for the young ones. It is such a
comfort to us all to have him at home.
He is so kind and so thoughtful for
"I fear if he were always at home,
he would quite spoil his sister," said
Mr. Pelham, laughing. "I observe she
sends him on all her little errands, and
scarcely walks across the room for her-
self. But what took him to town this
morning ?"


"There was another instance of his
thoughtfulness," said Mrs. Pelham, "he
went with me to market, on purpose to
relieve Biddy of carrying the basket to
the omnibus. He said he was sure it
would be so full of good things for our
New Year's dinner, it would be too heavy
for the girl's arm. You must spend the
day with us, Frank, and make friends
with Alfred. I am sure you would suit
each other exactly."
Frank thanked her, but he thought
to himself,
I am sure I shall hate him, he must
be so finnikin; and I can't bear your
pattern boys."
Mary now came in, and excused her
mother to the visitors. She then related
the accident that had occurred. She
made one mistake in the narrative, say-
ing she supposed Charlie's clothes had
taken fire in consequence of his ap-
proaching too near the stove, and Frank


took care not to set her right. Mrs.
Pelham expressed a hope that his inju-
ries would not prove sufficiently serious
to prevent their all spending the follow-
ing Monday with her in the country.



IT seemed doubtful for several days
whether they would any of them be
able to avail themselves of Mrs. Pel-
ham's invitation. Charlie grew tired
and restless, from being compelled to
remain quiet, and Sophy was constantly
with him, helping him to set up his
toys, and telling him stories. Sally was
completely disabled by the blisters on her
hands, so that Mary and the little maid
were fully occupied in the kitchen, and
Mrs. Woods had to attend to the baby.
Frank, had he pleased, might have
made himself very useful to all, but
none of these pursuits were manly
enough for him. He spent his time out
4 (37)


of doors, looking in at the print shops,
or he would go out to a vacant lot in
the upper part of the city with a knot
of boys, to play at shinny or hop-scotch.
On learning the true cause of Charlie's
mishap, Mrs. Woods had lectured Frank
very seriously on the danger of playing
with fire-works. He immediately threw
all the blame on his friend, but his
mother told him he deserved his full
share for having suffered Jack to throw
.the chaser into the kitchen.
"It would never have done any mis-
chief," said Frank, "had not Charlie
shaken his pinafore, and fanned it into
a flame."
It was natural the poor child should
try to fling it off," said Mrs. Woods;
"and remember, in future I forbid you
playing with fire works."
I don't see why I am to be preached
at for what was not my doing," said
Frank, in a loud, disrespectful tone.


"Is that the way to speak to your
mother, Frank ?"
You will treat me so like a baby."
And with this he flung out of the
house, and slammed the street door after
Monday came at length. A beauti-
ful, clear, frosty day. Charlie was al-
most well, and there was nothing to
prevent their expedition to the country.
Early in the morning Alfred came trot-
ting in, on a beautiful bay horse. He
came, he said, to assist and hasten their
departure, that they might have a long
day at Elmwood.
He offered Frank his horse to ride
out there. Frank was mortified to be
obliged to decline, but he had never
learnt to ride, and felt afraid to try.
An omnibus passed directly before Mr.
Pelham's gate, and the whole party,
baby and all, were soon in it, on their
way to Elmwood. Sophy at first de-


clined going, fearing she should only
mar the pleasure of the others.
"I know," she said to Alfred, "your
sister's politeness would induce her to
remain with me, in the house, when she
might be enjoying herself out of doors."
Indeed, Miss Sophia," replied Alfred,
"you must enjoy yourself out of doors
too. We have a garden chair on wheels,
and it will be a pleasure to us to take
turns in wheeling you about the grounds."
Alfred would not mount his horse
till he had seen them all safely to the
omnibus. He assisted Sophy with the
greatest care, and held the baby till
Mrs. Woods was seated, when he placed
her in her lap. He then had some little
commissions to execute for his mother,
but it was not long before they saw him
come cantering up. Frank again felt a
pang of mortification, as his sisters ex-
"How beautifully he rides I"


He checked his horse as he approached
the windows of the omnibus, and calling
out gaily, You shall have a courier to
announce you," he again galloped off
before their admiring eyes.
The whole party enjoyed themselves
very much. Sophy was wheeled about
to every part of the garden, and round
the little meadow, until, feeling rather
chilled, she went into the house. She
was equally amused there, examining
Miss Pelham's beautiful collection of
shells, and portfolios filled with her own
and her brother's drawings.
The rest of the party proposed taking
a walk to a piece of ice in the neigh-
borhood. Charlie begged to go too, but
Frank pushed him aside, telling him to
stay with Mary, for they could not be
pestered with a little chap like him.
"Yes, yes; he can come with us,"
said Alfred, "and when you are tired,
my man, you shall mount on my back."


When Frank saw him carrying the
little fellow on his back, and pretending
to prance like a horse, he was again in
doubt whether Alfred was not very
childish. Presently, however, he saw
him keeping off a drove of oxen, from
which he, as well as his sisters, shrank
in terror, and he was again impressed
with his superior manliness.
They soon reached the verge of the
pond, and while Frank was clumsily
sliding and tumbling about near the
brink, Alfred adjusted his skates, and
skimmed away over the smooth ice in
many a graceful bend and curve.
With all his superiority, Alfred was
so good-natured and unassuming, that
Frank could not help being pleased with
him. When they came home that eve-
ning, he said to his mother, when alone
with her,
What a fine fellow young Pelham
is. I wish I were like him."


"I am glad to hear you say so, Frank.
I had much rather see you take him for
your model than Jack Forest. But in
what do you wish to resemble him ?"
"Oh, he knows how to do such lots
of things that I can't. He rides so
splendidly, and I wish you could have
seen his skating, mother. He took me
into his room; it was full of all sorts
of curiosities. There was a bird he had
stuffed himself, and a beautiful model
of a ship. And then I am sure he is a
first-rate scholar, for there was a Greek
book on his desk, and another full of
"These are all very pleasant and
valuable acquirements," said Mrs. Woods,
"but, as you were so observing, did you
notice nothing else in him ?"
"Why yes, to be sure, I did think it
queer to see him setting the little ones
to play at puss in the corner; and I
thought it a little finnikin to see him


always running to offer chairs, setting
up the music book for his own sister,
and such like; but then he is so manly
in other things, that it did not signify."
"My dear boy," said Mrs. Woods,
"you make a great mistake. Now listen
to me for a few minutes. I have ob-
served, from the first moment of your
return from school, a change in you:
and a change, I am sorry to say, for the
worse. You are no longer the obliging,
good-natured boy you once were, but
you have been hiding your true charac-
ter, and checking every amiable feeling,
from a wish to appear manly. Your
speech and manners have been rude and
uncouth. Charlie flies from you in fear
and terror. Your sisters cannot, I am
sure, but wish you back at school. You
acted in a way to make me fear you
were growing hard-hearted, when I saw
you from my window, hurrying poor
Sophy round the square."


Frank looked down to hide the tears
that were forcing themselves into his
eyes, and Mrs. Woods went on.
"It is very easy to be manly, my
dear boy, if by the term is meant to be
rude, and selfish, and unfeeling, as too
many men are. But I should wish my
son to be a gente-man. Think of the
first part of that word-it is quite con-
sistent with the last. You should study
to be all it implies. Kind and consider-
ate to all, be ever ready to help those
weaker than yourself. This will cause
you to be loved by all. But it is my
earnest prayer that a higher motive
than the desire for the love of your
friends may impel you. Our Heavenly
Father commands us to be gentle. Our
blessed Saviour was a pattern of gentle-
ness and goodness. Think, my dearest
boy, of the life, as well as the precepts
of Christ your Lord. He, "when He
was reviled, reviled not again;" no word


of unkindness ever issued from his lips
Meekly he bore every injury. Suffer
ings of which we can form no concept
tion were endured by Him-endured
for our sins, for our salvation, Frank-
without one word of anger or reproach.
My own dearest child, may the Spirit
of Christ be in you. May you learn of
Him who was meek and lowly in heart.
The true Christian is the true gentle-
man. You observed the gentleness and
kindness of Alfred Pelham's conduct.
If you were more intimately acquainted
with him you would discover the secret
spring of his conduct to be, love to the
Frank's tears were now falling faster
and faster. New thoughts and feelings
were awakening in his heart. His
mother felt that she had said enough for
the present, and pressing a fond kiss on
his cheek she left him alone. He pon-
dered long on all his mother had said.


He wished to be beloved. The thought
that he should not be missed, or that
his sisters might even wish him back
at school, gave him much pain. And
the higher motives of which his mother
had spoken, roused deep and hitherto
hidden feelings in his heart. The full
result of these was not seen till some
weeks after his return to school.
Only two days remained for him to
redeem his character at home, but he
turned these two to good account. He
quite laid himself out to be obliging,
and his quick eye found a thousand
opportunities of doing a kind turn for
others, which he had before entirely
overlooked. Sophy enjoyed with him
the most agreeable walk she had taken
for many a day. He was constantly
preparing for his sisters some pleasant
surprise. Mary was about to wheel her
sister's chair, as usual, into the other
room, when she found it unexpectedly


done. Or she was dreading to go out
in the cold to make a purchase at a
store, when, in a few moments, the de-
sired article was set before her. Sophy
was delighted to find her bird in a splen-
did new cage, and Charlie declared
Frank made a better horse than even
Alfred Pelham.
It would be endless to tell the count-
less ways in which Frank proved his
readiness to oblige. -The result was
shown on the morning of his departure.
Charlie was crying, and could hardly
be pacified, on seeing his brother pre-
pared to go. His sisters wished the
Winter Vacation was not so short. His
father gave him a watch at parting,
and said, "I am not afraid now that it
will put silly notions into your head,
and make you vain and consequential."
His mother's parting gift was a Bible.
-WA mark was in the Second Epistle to
Timothy, and these words of the 24th


verse in the second chapter were under-
lined, "Be gentle unto all men." She
smiled as she kissed him, and said,
"God bless you my dear boy. Not
only my manly, but my gentlemanly


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