"I DARE YOU." "Ah, my boy, you must get rid of that idea; it is all wrong! He who refuses to do a sinful or a dangerous thing, even when people say 'I dare you,' is a true hero; and he who runs all risks to do something just because he is dared,' is by far the most cowardly and foolish! Don't look so down-hearted, Winthrop ; I want you to be truly heroic: and I know you can do things very bravely sometimes. For instance, if I should say you may not go skating another day during this season, you would bear the punishment without a complaint, I think." 66 Yes, sir!" answered the boy, with a touch of the old pride in his voice. "Mayn't I bear the punishment?" said Tom. "It was my fault." "I haven't given any punishment yet, Tom; I have only given this lesson about true bravery for you all to learn. And now be off, every one of you, and let Winthrop rest, while I go to examine my coat, and if it is entirely ruined, I'll make a subscription among you all to get a new one!" And the kind man smiled as he left them, but his heart was full; and he went to thank God for the safety of his pupil, and to pray that he might become truly brave and noble. SMILES OF SPRING. Boys, never be "dared" into doing what is wrong. Do not take one step aside from the safe and straight path, no matter how "I dare you!" voices many say Be brave enough to say "I dare not," to every temp tation. And always Dare to do right! dare to be true! All the world's scorning can never harm you! Stand by your conscience, your honour, your faith ; SMILES OF SPRING. "The joyous Spring looked out and smiled." I HAVE heard the little robin sing Nigh two score times have seen the light SMILES OF SPRING. And I am on those knolls again, Of songs amid the groves a Maying, And through the years from childhood's hours And sweeter seems the swelling lay I've seen the glad hills smile with joy, And heard the green woods clap their hands Just from the groves of love and light, The southern hillside, sloping down On which the mellow sunlight rests, For upon memory's verdant mead, Bloom the fair flowers of early years. There lie our dear ones,-you can see SMILES OF SPRING. And many a fair-fingered spring Hath scattered flowers of sweet perfume, Since, sorrowful and sad of heart, We laid them in their quiet rest, The winter of the voiceless tomb, A kindly message seems to bear. I never see the glowing morn, I never hear the April rain, But that each household treasure gone, I never see the daisy smile In its attire of spotless white, The daffa ope its modest eyes, To greet the morning's early light; Upon the brown earth's lifeless breast, I see the resurrection morn, Beyond the wintry waste of death, And feel the power of that glad spring Whose glorious sun and genial breath Will stir the dust of every tomb With life again, and we shall see The loved and lost, in fadeless bloom, A glorious immortality. |