"A BOY'S POUND."
MORRIS sat on the roof of the old corn crib, looking down on a load of wood to be cut and put away in the wood-house. Beyond was the garden, overgrown with weeds, and close to the garden gate was the kitchen door. From his high seat, Morris could look in at the Open door, and see his mother, as she walked with Quick step, back and forth, preparing supper for the harvest men.
"Mother must be warm and tired," he thought. He wondered if any other family in the country had as much trouble as their family? His father was ill,—there came the doctor round a turn in the road, to see him; his brother Dick had broken his arm; Hannah, the housemaid, was gone,—there was no one to help his mother now in the busy harvest time! If only his sister were home from school! Morris had never before wished so earnestly for a man's strength. "I could chop the wood, and put the garden in order, and get things straight," he said. Then he looked at his feet and hands and sighed to think that they were only a boy’s feet and hands!
But wishes and sighs could do no good. He was tired of his high seat, and tired, too, of the sight of the lazy turkeys strutting up and down across the lawn. He scrambled down some way or other, putting his hands in and out of the lattice-work, breaking the strips in one or two places, thus helping to make the general appearance of things more forlorn. Morris ran by the kitchen, and jumped in the window into the sitting-room. If he could not "work”, he could read, and drive the thought of all those stupid things out of mind. He found just such a story as he liked. It was about the building of a ship. He read every word: how, day after day, the workmen were busy on the several parts; and how the time came, at last, when the noble Thing was to be launched and to begin its work. He read how the crowd began to gather. How great strength was put forth, and how everyone expected to see the ship pushed into the water.
It all seemed so real to Morris that he felt himself one of the crowd, ready to shout as loud as any one.
But what was the trouble. Why was so much strength put out in vain? The vessel would not move! People wondered. Just then a boy came pushing through the crowd, crying: "Let me try, captain, I am small, but I can push a pound, at least."
The people laughed at the boy. Some even tried to push him back. But he was a brave little fellow. He ran with all his might against the ship, and lo! Off it glided into the water. Then there went up a shout of triumph. The men who had laughed at the boy a moment before, now praised him, and declared that it was just the kind of help that was needed to launch the ship." He was only a boy!" exclaimed Morris.
Then, quick as a flash came the thought; "I am only a boy, too; but I might try to do something to help mother push our ship along."
He jumped out of the window, and ran round, to the kitchen door. There he stopped a moment, to consider what he meant by "our ship."
"All the farm work, of course," he said. "I might push, with my might, and resolve to get some of this wood split, and piled up, and some of those weeds out of the vegetable garden."
He looked in at the door just then, and nodded his head, and smiled, and said:-
"As there is no big sister' about, mother, would you like me to set up the chairs, and start the fire, and bring in a few armfuls of wood?"
"Thank you, Morris," his mother said, a look of pleased surprise coming into her face.
"I do not feel as tired as I did a little while ago," she said, an hour afterward, when Morris had been going in and out, drawing water, and bringing in wood, humming, meanwhile, two or three of his school songs.
"Why, Morris, you are as helpful as a big sister," she added!" O mother, I am glad! I see now how foolish it was to waste time wishing that I were a man. It was just that ship story, though, that opened my eyes."
But his mother did not know what he meant by the ship story till she found time, an evening or two after, to talk the matter over with Morris.
S. S. Times.
