esses, who testified to
the daughter's ingratitude and cruelty, ordered her to be led away to
the House of Correction. The officers of justice took her by the arm,
and carried her to her gloomy cell. Her lonely and sorrowing mother
went weeping home to her abode of penury and desolation. Her own
daughter was the viper which had stung her bosom. Her own child was
the wretch who was filling her heart with sorrow.

And while I now write, this guilty daughter is occupying the gloomy
cell of the prison, and this widowed mother is in her silent
dwelling, in loneliness and grief! Oh, could the child who reads
these pages, see that mother and that daughter now, you might form
some feeble idea of the consequences of disobedience; you might see
how unutterable the sorrow a wicked child may bring upon herself and
upon her parents. It is not easy, in this case, to judge which is the
most unhappy, the mother or the child. The mother is broken-hearted
at home. She is alone and friendless. All her hopes are most cruelly
destroyed. She loved her daughter, and hoped that she would live to
be her friend and comfort. But instead of that, she became her curse,
and is bringing her mother's gray hairs in sorrow to the grave. And
then look at the daughter--guilty and abandoned--Oh, who can tell how
miserable she must be!

Such is the grief which children may bring upon themselves and their
parents. You probably have never thought of this very much I write
this book that you may think of it, and that you may, by obedience
and affection, make your parents happy, and be happy yourselves.

This wicked girl was once a playful child, innocent and happy. Her
mother looked upon her with most ardent love, and hoped that her dear
daughter would live to be her companion and friend. At first she
ventured to disobey in some trifling thing. She still loved her
mother, and would have been struck with horror at the thought of
being guilty of crimes which she afterwards committed. But she went
on from bad to worse, every day growing more disobedient, until she
made her poor mother so miserable that she almost wished to die, and
till she became so miserable herself, that life must have been a
burden. You think, perhaps, that you never shall be so unkind and
wicked as she finally became. But if you begin as she began, by
trifling disobedience, and little acts of unkindness, you may soon be
as wicked as she, and make your parents as unhappy as is her poor
br