USE OF PUNISHMENTS.
NEW-YORK
D. APPLETON & CO. 200 BROADWAY.
Frank had a little cousin Mary; when Mary was six years old, she was brought to live at his father’s house. Frank soon grew fond of Mary and played with her at whatever she liked; sometimes he was her horse; sometimes she was his horse; sometimes he rolled her in his wheelbarrow, and sometimes she made a cat’s cradle for him.
Though Mary and Frank were good-natured, yet they had faults. Frank was sometimes impatient; and Mary was sometimes a little cross. Frank had not been used to play with children younger and weaker than himself. When he found that he was the strongest, he made use of his strength to force Mary to do as he commanded her; and when he wanted any thing she had, he would snatch it rudely from her hands. Once Frank took a ball from her in this manner, and hurt her so much that she roared out with the pain.
Frank’s father, who was in the next room, heard her, and came to inquire what was the matter. Mary stopped crying; and Frank, though he felt much ashamed, told his father how he had hurt her.
Frank’s father was pleased with his honesty, in telling the truth, but he ordered the children into different rooms, and they were not allowed to play together any more that day.
The next morning, at breakfast, Frank’s father asked if they liked best to be together, or to be separate.
“To be together,” answered Frank and Mary.
“Then, my children, take care and do not quarrel,” said Frank’s father, “for whenever you quarrel, I shall end your dispute at once, by separating you. You, Frank, know the use of punishment.”
“Yes, I know,” answered Frank, “that when I have done wrong, you give me pain; you take away what I like; or hinder me from doing as I like.”
“Do you think,” asked his father, “that I like to give pain—for what purpose do I punish you?”
“Not because you like to give me pain, but to hinder me from doing wrong again.”
“How will punishment hinder you from doing wrong again?”
“You know, papa, I should be afraid to have the same punishment again, if I were to do the same wrong action; and the pain, and the shame of the punishment, make me remember them a long while. Whenever I think of doing the wrong action again, for which I was punished, I recollect the punishment, and then I determine not to do wrong again.”
“Is there any other use in punishments, do you think, Frank?”
“Yes, to prevent other people from doing wrong: when they see a person who has done wrong punished, if they are sure they shall have the same punishment, if they do the same wrong thing, they take care not to do it.”
JULIAN AND HIS RABBIT.
One day little Susan Clare came to her mother, with the request that she would tell her a short story. Her mother, after satisfying herself that Susan had been industriously employed during the morning, promised to comply with her request, and the following conversation took place between them.
“What shall I tell you about, my little girl?” said Mrs. Clare; “do you know the story of the grateful Julian?”
“No, mother,” was the reply.
“Well, you shall hear it,” said Mrs. Clare. “There once lived a very poor man, who had one child six years old, whose name was Julian. This little boy was the owner of but one thing in the wide world, and that was a rabbit.”
“Ah, mother,” exclaimed Susan, “it is a pretty little animal—the rabbit. I wish that I had one.”
NEW-YORK
D. APPLETON & CO. 200 BROADWAY.
“My dear Susan,” replied her mother, “you have so many nice things to make you happy, that you can do very well without a rabbit. You have nice clothes, good food and drink, and a clean bed on which to lie down at night. You have a pretty doll, a couple of pigeons, and a whole closet full of books and playthings. Poor little Julian had nothing of all these.”
“What!” said Susan, “had he not even good clothes to keep him warm?”
“Some old rags hastily patched together, were all he had to cover himself.”
“And did he have no bed?”
“A little straw in the corner, upon the ground.”
“And nothing to eat or drink?” asked Susan.
“Oftentimes nothing to eat,” said Mrs. Clare; “or, when he was very hungry, a morsel of dry brown bread with some water.”
“O, poor Julian!” exclaimed Susan. “If he were here, I would give him every day half of my breakfast and of my luncheon.”
“Now hear the rest of my story,” said her mother. “Notwithstanding he was so poor, Julian was contented, for his little rabbit made up for all his privations, and it was indeed a charming animal. Its hair was as white as snow glittering in the sunshine, and soft as silk. Its eyes were bright as diamonds, and then it was so tame, so fond of its little master! When his father gave him a bit of bread, Julian would go behind the hut, and sit down upon the grass; and then he had but to call, ‘Jeannot, Jeannot;’ and instantly his rabbit would run to him, leap upon his arm, and take from him the morsels of bread one by one in his mouth.”
“O, my dear mother,” Susan here exclaimed, “I must, indeed, I must have a rabbit exactly like it.”
“But you might tame with equal ease your lamb and your pigeons,” answered Mrs. Clare. “Believe me, my child, all animals are indued with gratitude, and they all love us, when they see that we love them. But let me return to little Julian. Although he had often to suffer hunger, cold, and numerous other hardships and privations, he still kept a good heart, because his little rabbit was to him every day a source of new pleasure.
“But at last a sad misfortune befell poor Julian; he became very sick. His father, for want of money, could not take care of him, which his sickness needed. So the poor little fellow lay stretched upon the damp floor, enduring great pain, without any one to cure him.
“His little rabbit soon came to find him, and took a place by his side on the straw. The little creature even looked at him so mournfully, that it seemed as if he would say to him:—‘Ah, my poor master, how I pity you!’ And Julian regarded his rabbit with looks so forlorn, that he seemed ready to reply: ‘Ah, my little rabbit; I shall soon have to leave you!’
“Fortunately
