312 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, 
I October 
Can you sympathize with this little fellow 1 His pa¬ 
tience is severely tried, you can see by his sturdy arm, 
and his plump round cheeks, that he is little used to con¬ 
finement in the house. He would feel far more content 
roaming through the fields, climbing the trees, or enjoy¬ 
ing a game of ball with the village boys. No doubt he is 
expert at that; he has his ball already half out of his 
pocket, as if it was as impatient for sport as its young 
owner. He is a favorite with his playmates. His frank 
manly countenance shows that; and you observe two o( 
them standing at the door, urging him to “ hurry up,” for 
there will not be half a game if he be absent. 
What a battle he is fighting with himself. He loves his 
good old grandmother, and is willing to help her, but he 
loves play too, and how he does wish she would stop 
reading, and finish winding the yarn. He cannot keep 
down the expression of impatience ; his forehead is a lit¬ 
tle contracted, and his fists are shut quite tightly, as 
though he were trying to hold himself in, from saying or 
doing anything Wrong. The old lady is too much inter¬ 
ested in her book to see anything of this. It appears to 
be the Bible that she is reading. You notice the clasps 
on the cover, they are such as were formerly used to hold 
the lids rnoie firmly in place. We see them now occa¬ 
sionally ; formerly almost all large sized Bibles were 
bound in this style 
That little fellow is a real hero. Most boys would fret 
or whine, or cry, or perhaps entirely refuse to remain ; 
but he stands to it, hard work though it be. He conquers 
himself, and that makes a hero of any man or boy. He 
may not know it now, but some of these days, if ho grows 
up to manhood, and carries out the same spirit, to do 
right though it cost a sacrifice, he will command the re¬ 
spect and honor of his fellow men. No doubt his grand¬ 
mother has taught him from the Good Book she is read¬ 
ing, and he can well afford to deny himself a play spell 
now and then in return for her kindness. 
When you have work to do which tries your patience 
think of this lit tie hero, and brave it out as he does, no 
matter how strong the temptation to leave it. Plav is all I 
the pleasanter after work is over, and more than this 
every such victory over one’s self makes the next con¬ 
quest easier. Strong wills and bad habits, like fractious 
colts, are more and more submissive every time you ex¬ 
ercise your pow er over them. 
THE BRAVE BOV —A CAPITAL STORY. 
[We have never read a better story than the following. 
Many of our young readers have doubtless seen it in the 
S. S. Advocate, but it will do them good to read it again; 
and we stereotype and print it here, that it may not only 
be re-read by those who have seen it, but by tens of thous- 
onds who have not done so. Hartley is the boy for us ; 
how many Hartleys are there among our boys ? We hope 
the story will greatly increase the number. Ed.] 
I shall never forget a lesson which I received when 
quite a young lad at the Academy in B. Among my 
schoolfellows were Hartley and Jemson. They were 
somewhat older than myself, and to Jemson I looked up 
as a sort of leader in matters of opinion as well as of 
sport. He was not at heart malicious, but he had a fool¬ 
ish ambition of being thought witty, and he made himself 
feared by the bad habit of turning things into ridicule, and 
being ever on the look out for matter of derision. 
Hartley was a new scholar, and little was known of 
him among the boys. One morning, as we were on the 
way to school, he was seen driving a cow along the road 
toward a neighboring field. A group of boys, among 
whom was Jemson, met him as ho was passing. The op- 
portilnity was one not to be lost by Jemson. “Hallo!” 
he exclaimed, “what's the price of milk! I say, Jona¬ 
than, what do you fodder on ? What will you take for 
all the gold on her horns T Boys, if you want to see the 
latest Paris style, look at those boots!” 
Hartley, waving his hand to us with a pleasant smile, 
and diiving the cow to the field, took down the bars of a 
rail-fence, saw her safely in the inclosure, and then, put¬ 
ting up the bars, came and entered the school with the 
rest of us. After school, in the afternoon, he let out the 
cow and drove her off, none of us knew where. And 
every day for weeks he went through the same task. 
The boys of B. Academy were nearly all the sons of 
wealthy parents, and some of them, among whom was 
Jemson, were dunces enough to look down with a sort of 
disdain upon a scholar who had to drive a cow. The 
sneers and jeers of Jemson were accordingly often re 
newed. He once, on a plea that he did not like the odor 
of the barn, refused to sit next to Hartley. Occasionally 
he would inquire after the cow’s health, pronouncing the 
word “ke-ow,” after the manner of some country people. 
With admirable good nature did Hartley bear all these 
silly attempts to wound and annoy him. I do not rem.-m 
her that he was even once betrayed into a look or word of 
angry retaliation. (Good!) 
“I suppose, Hartley,” said Jemson one day, “youi 
daddy means to make a milkman of you 1” 
“Why not?” asked Hartley.—“0 nothing ; only don’l 
leave much water in the cans after you rinse them— 
that’s all!” 
The boys laughed, and Hartley, not in the least morti¬ 
fied, replied: “ Never fear ; if ever I should rise to be a 
milkman. I’ll give good measure and good milk too.” 
The day after this conversation there was a public ex¬ 
amination, at which a number of ladies and gentlemen 
from the neighboring towns were present. Prizes were 
awarded by the principal of our academy, and both Hart¬ 
ley and Jemson received a creditable number ; for, in re¬ 
spect to scholarship, these two were about equal. After 
the ceremony of distribution, the principal remarked that 
there was one prize, consisting of a gold medal, which 
was rarely awarded, not so much on account of its great 
cost, as because the instances were rare which rendered 
its bestowal proper. It was the prize of heroism. The 
last boy who received one, was young Manners, who, 
three years ago, rescued a blind girl from drowning. 
The principal then said that, with permission of the com¬ 
pany, he would relate a short story. 
“Not long since, some scholars were flying a kite in the 
street just as a poor boy on horseback rode by on his way 
to the mill. The horse took fright and threw the boy, in¬ 
juring him so sadly that he was carried home, and con¬ 
fined some weeks to his bed. Of the scholars who had 
unintentionally caused the disaster, none followed to 
learn the fate of the wounded boy. There was one 
scholar, however, who had witnessed the accident from 
a distance, who not only went to make inquiries, but 
stayed to render services. 
“ This scholar soon learned that the wounded boy was 
the grandson of a poor widow, whose sole support con¬ 
sisted in selling the milk of a fine cow of which she w as 
the owner. Alas! what could she now do ? She was 
old and lame, and her grandson, on whom she depended 
to drive her cow to the pasture, was on his back helpless. 
‘“Nevermind, good woman,’said the scholar, ‘lean 
drive your cow!’ 
“ With blessings and thanks the old woman accepted 
his offer. But his kindness did not stop here. Money was 
wanted to get articles from the apothecary. • I have 
money that my mother sent me to buy a pair of boots 
with, but I can do without them for a while.’ 
“ ‘ O no,’ said the old woman, ‘ I can’t consent to that , 
but here is a pair of heavy boots that I bought for Henry, 
who can’t wear them. If you would only buy these, giv¬ 
ing us what they cost, we should get along nicely.’ 
“ The scholar bought the boots, clumsy as they were, 
and has worn them up to this time. 
“ Well, when it was discovered by other boys of the 
academy that our scholar was in the habit of driving a 
cow, he was assailed every day with laughter and ridi¬ 
cule. His cowhide boots in particular were made matter 
of mirth. But he kept on cheerfully and bravely, day af¬ 
ter day, never shunning observation, driving the widow’s 
cow and wearing his thick boots, contented in the thought 
that he was doing- right; caring not for all the jeers and 
sneers that could be uttered. He never undertook to ex 
plain why he drove a cow, for he was not inclined to 
make a vaunt of his charitable motives, and furthermore, 
in his heart he had no sympathy with the false price that 
could look down with ridicule on any useful employment 
It was by mere accident that his course of kindness and 
self denial was yesterday discovered by his teacher. 
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to you, was 
there not true heroism in this boy’s conduct? Nay, Mas¬ 
ter Hartley, do not hide out of sight behind the black 
board ! You are not afraid of ridicule, you must not be 
afraid of praise. Come forth, come forth, Master Edward 
James Hartley, and let us see your honest face !” 
As Hartley, with blushing cheeks, made his appearance, 
what a round of applause, in which the whole company 
joined, spoke the general approbation of his conduct! 
The ladies stood upon benches and waved their handker¬ 
chiefs. The old men wiped the gathering moisture from 
the corners of their eyes, and clapped their hands. Those 
clumsy boots on Hartley’s feet seemed a prouder orna¬ 
ment than a crown would have been on his head Tho 
