He Dared to Tell the Truth
A boy once went to live with a man who was accounted a hard master. He never kept his boys—they ran away or gave notice they meant to quit; so he was half his time without or in search of a boy. The work was not hard, opening and sweeping out the shop, chopping wood, going on errands, and helping around. At last Sam Fisher went to live with him. "Sam’s a good boy," said his mother. "I should like to see a boy nowadays that had a spark of goodness in him," growled the new master. It is always bad to begin with a man that has no confidence in you, because, do your best, you are likely to have little credit for it. However, Sam thought he would try. The wages were good, and his mother wanted him to go. Sam had been there but three days when, in sawing a cross-grained stick of wood, he broke the saw. He was frightened. He knew he was careful, and he knew he was a pretty good sawyer, too, for a boy of his age; nevertheless, the saw broke in his hands. "Mr. Jones never makes allowances," said another boy who was in the woodhouse with him. "Why, of course, I didn’t mean it, and accidents will happen to the best of folks," said Sam, looking with a very sorrowful air on the broken saw. "Mr. Jones never makes allowances," said the other boy. "I never saw anything like him. That Bill might have stayed, only he jumped into a hen’s nest and broke her eggs. He daren’t tell of it; but Mr. Jones kept suspecting and suspecting, and laid15everything out of the way to Bill, whether Bill was to blame for it or not, till Bill couldn't stand it, and wouldn't." "Did he tell Mr. Jones about the eggs?" said Sam. "No," said the boy, "he was afraid, Mr. Jones has got such a temper." "I think he'd have better owned up at once," said Sam. "I suspect you'll find it better to preach than to practise," said the boy. "I'd run away before I'd tell him." And he soon turned on his heel and left poor Sam alone with his broken saw. The boy did not feel very comfortable or happy. He shut up the woodhouse, walked out in the garden, and went up to his little chamber under the eaves. He wished he could tell Mrs. Jones, but she wasn't sociable. When Mr. Jones came into the house the boy heard him. He got up, crept down stairs, and met Mr. Jones in the kitchen. "Sir," said Sam, "I broke your saw, and I thought I'd come and tell you before you saw it in the morning." "What did you get up to tell me for?" asked Mr. Jones. "I should think morning would be time enough to tell of your carelessness." "Because," said Sam, "I was afraid if I put it off I might be tempted to lie about it. I am sorry I broke it, but I tried to be careful." Mr. Jones looked at the boy from head to foot, then, stretching out his hand, he said heartily: "Sam, give me your hand; shake hands. I'll trust you, Sam. That's right. Go to bed, boy. Never fear. I'm glad the saw broke: it shows the mettle's in you. Go to bed."—Scotch Tract.