Proud and Lazy Part 9

"No, mother."

"Tell us what ails you, Kate," added her father.

Both of her parents were greatly alarmed about her, for they loved their little girl very much; and they knew that something must ail her, or she would not have lain awake so long, or have cried so bitterly.

"Can't you tell us what ails you, Kate?" inquired her mother, very tenderly.

"I have been very naughty, mother," replied Kate, almost choking with emotion.

"Naughty, child?"

"Yes, mother."

"I thought you had been very good," added Mr. Lamb.

"No, I have not; I have been very wicked, and you will never forgive me."

"Why, what have you done, Kate? How strange you act, my child!"

"I can't help it, mother. If you will forgive me this time, I will never be so wicked again while I live."

"Tell us all about it, Kate, and we will forgive you," said her father, very kindly.

The poor girl sobbed so that she could not speak for some time, for the tenderness of her parents made her feel a great deal worse than if they had scolded her severely.

"What have you done, Kate?" repeated Mrs. Lamb.

"I didn't carry the milk to Mrs. O'Brien, mother," gasped the poor penitent, as she uncovered her eyes, and looked up in the face of her parents to notice the effect of her confession upon them.

"Didn't carry it to her?" was the exclamation of her father and mother at the same time.

"No; I spilled it on the ground."

"Why, Kate! what did you do that for?"

"I couldn't help it--I mean I was careless. When f.a.n.n.y Flynn struck me, I ran after her. My foot tripped, and I fell, and spilled all the milk."

"Why didn't you tell me so, Kate?"

"I didn't dare to tell you; I was afraid you would scold at me, as you did for spoiling the peony."

Kate felt a little better now that she had confessed her fault, and she was able to look her parents in the face.

"Why, Kate, if you had only told me, I should not have scolded you.

You may have been careless, but it was all the fault of f.a.n.n.y Flynn."

"No, mother; I was careless. I forgot all about the milk, I was so angry."

"And so the poor children had no supper, after all," added Mr.

Lamb.

"O father! It was what you said about them that made me feel so bad. I am sure I shall never be so very wicked again. Let me carry them some milk now."

"What are you talking about? It is after ten o'clock, my child."

"No matter, father; I am not afraid to go in the dark, if I can only carry them their supper."

"No, no, Kate. I will carry them the milk, though it is rather late, and probably they are all asleep by this time."

"But will you forgive me, father and mother?"

"Freely, my child; you have suffered severely already for your fault, and I hope it will be a lesson to you which will last as long as you live," said her father.

"It will," said Kate, earnestly.

Both her parents kissed her, in token of their forgiveness; and Mr.

Lamb put on his coat, while Mrs. Lamb went to the cellar for a pail of milk, with which he soon left the house on his errand of kindness and charity.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Kate a better girl.]

Kate felt a great deal better then, and before her father returned, she was fast asleep. Mr. Lamb found the poor woman still up. The children had had bread and water, but no milk, for their supper, and she was very glad to have some for them when they waked up in the night. And she was very grateful to Mr. Lamb for thinking of her at that hour, and thanked G.o.d for giving her such kind and thoughtful friends.

From that time, Kate was a better girl, and tried hard to reform her life and character. She tried so hard, and succeeded so well, that she very soon lost the name of "Careless Kate."

Mr. Lamb went to see f.a.n.n.y Flynn's parents the next day, and they promised to punish her for her conduct. After that Kate did not provoke her, and they never had any more trouble.

Now my readers have seen that Kate's fault led her into falsehood and deception, which are worse than carelessness; and I hope they will all learn to be careful and truthful.

NOTHING TO DO.

NOTHING TO DO.

"My kitty is purring Upon the hearth rug Rolled up in a bundle Just like a great bug.

I wonder what kitty Is thinking about; What makes her so happy I cannot find out.

"She has no hard lessons To bother her brain, No spelling and reading To study in vain; She ought to be happy With nothing to do But play all the morning-- And I should be, too."

Thus Nellie kept thinking, And spoke out her thought.

The words which she uttered Her mother's ear caught.

"You wish to be idle Like kitty, dear, there, And play all the morning, Or sleep in your chair?"

"I don't like my lessons; I think 'tis a pity I can't be as happy As dear little kitty.