A Cure for Laziness by Martha E. Warner

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 7, 1915

A Cure for Laziness

By Martha E. Warner

Front Porch Visits—No. 5

A Cure for Laziness

MARTHA E. WARNER

“There is beginning to be a real home in our house,” remarked Mrs. Bowen one day. “Harold is the only one of the children who rebels about helping. Today he positively refused to go to Mr. Showers for a bottle of cream. He is downright lazy.”

“He reminds me of Laurence when he first came to stay with us,” I said. “He was just an overgrown baby. He did not like to work, and he simply would not work. One morning at prayers we read, ‘If any would not work, neither should he eat.’ Laurence did not seem anxious to have that verse discussed. After breakfast, I asked him to go to grandpa’s and get an extra quart of milk. His excuses were numerous—it was too hot; he was busy; it was of no use for him to go, for he was not strong enough to bring home the quart of milk; couldn’t Paul go? etc. I told him that as Paul had been doing extra work, it would not be fair to ask him to do this errand. ‘But,’ I added, ‘it does not matter. I can get along, but I thought a custard for dinner would be nice.’”

“Oh, say, mamma,” said Laurence, “if you are going to make a custard, I guess I can go; but truly I cannot bring home a quart of milk!”

“Very well,” I replied, “get a pint, then. Only remember I should like a quart.”

“When he returned, he said, ‘Grandpa gave me a pint of milk, mamma, and I spilled a little when I came across the brook. Oh, but my arms do ache!’”

“Fortunately, I had milk left from breakfast to make a small custard, but at dinner time there was no custard for Laurence or me. When he asked me if I had forgotten his, I told him no, but I did not have milk enough to make a custard large enough for us all, so he and I would have to go without.”

“Poor Laurence! His eyes filled with tears, but he winked them back. The next day he came to me, saying, ‘Mamma, I’m real strong today. Don’t you want me to get you some milk?’”

“‘I could use more if I had it,’ I answered, ‘but it tires you so I do not wish to ask you to get any.’”

“‘But I am not tired,’ he said. ‘I want to go, and I wish you would not tell me how much to get.’”

“‘All right,’ I replied, ‘but it takes you so long to go I fear you will not return in time for me to use it this morning.’”

“‘You’ll see!’ was his answer. And before I realized that he had had time to go and return, he was standing at the door with two quarts.”

“‘There, mamma,’ he said, proudly, ‘never spilled a drop! What are you looking at me like that for, mamma?’”

“‘To see where that lazy boy is who went for milk yesterday. I cannot seem to find him,’ I said.”

“‘You never will,’ he replied; ‘he was drowned in the brook. Any time you want any help, you call on me.’”

“That was the beginning of the awakening of Laurence to the fact that he had a work to do in the house.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Bowen as she rose to go, “if I should do that, the neighbors would say I starved Harold.”

“You may expect some criticism,” I replied, “but if we ‘die daily,’ remarks of that kind will not hurt.”

Clintonville, Conn.