My Boyhood and Touth 



never more in this world can I be well, but I 

 must just submit. I must just submit." 



One of the saddest deaths from other causes 

 than consumption was that of a poor feeble- 

 minded man whose brother, a sturdy black- 

 smith and preacher, etc., was a very hard task- 

 master. Poor half-witted Charlie was kept 

 steadily at work, — although he was not able 

 to do much, for his body was about as feeble 

 as his mind. He never could be taught the 

 right use of an axe, and when he was set to 

 chopping down trees for firewood he feebly 

 hacked and chipped round and round them, 

 sometimes spending several days in nibbling 

 down a tree that a beaver might have gnawed 

 down in half the time. Occasionally when he had 

 an extra large tree to chop, he would go home 

 and report that the tree was too tough and strong 

 for him and that he could never make it fall. 

 Then his brother, calling him a useless creature, 

 would fell it with a few well-directed strokes, 

 and leave Charlie to nibble away at it for 

 weeks trying to make it into stove-wood. 

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