oken-hearted mother.

Persons never become so very wicked all at once. They go on from step
to step, in disobedience and ingratitude, till they lose all feeling,
and can see their parents weep, and even die in their grief, without a
tear.

Perhaps, one pleasant day, this mother sent her little daughter to
school. She took her books, and walked along, admiring the beautiful
sunshine, and the green and pleasant fields. She stopped one moment
to pick a flower, again to chase a butterfly, and again to listen to
a little robin, pouring out its clear notes upon the bough of some
lofty tree. It seemed so pleasant to be playing in the fields, that
she was unwilling to go promptly to school. She thought it would not
be very wrong to play a little while. Thus she commenced. The next
day she ventured to chase the butterflies farther, and to rove more
extensively through the field in search of flowers. And as she played
by the pebbles in the clear brook of rippling water, she forgot how
fast the time was passing. And when she afterwards hastened to
school, and was asked why she was so late, to conceal her fault she
was guilty of falsehood, and said that her mother wanted her at home.
Thus she advanced, rapidly in crime. Her lessons were neglected. She
loved the fields better than her book, and would often spend the
whole morning idle, under the shade of some tree, when her mother
thought her safe in school. Having thus become a truant and a
deceiver, she was prepared for any crimes. Good children would not
associate with her, and consequently she had to choose the worst for
her companions and her friends. She learned wicked language; she was
rude and vulgar in her manners; she indulged ungovernable passion;
and at last grew so bad, that when her family afterwards removed to
the city, the House of Correction became her ignominious home. And
there she is now, guilty and wretched. And her poor mother, in her
solitary dwelling, is weeping over her daughter's disgrace. Who can
comfort such a mother? Where is there any earthly joy to which she
can look?

Children generally do not think how much the happiness of their
parents depends upon their conduct. But you now see how very unhappy
you can make them. And is there a child who reads this book, who
would be willing to be the cause of sorrow to his father and his
mother? After all they have done for you, in taking care of you when
an infant, in watching over you when sick, in giving y