country. A good many persons sat at the table, but no one took any notice of the little country boy. It would take long to tell of the day's work. Frank was kept very busy, as is usual with the youngest. He was sent on many errands, to strange places, and several times lost his way: for which he was rebuked by his employers, and laughed at by the clerks and porter. Once or twice he was brought into trouble by bad boys; and once he had his fist doubled, to strike a fellow who had seized him; but he thought better of it. And he afterwards found, that the wisest plan in the streets is to go about one's business as quietly as possible. He was shocked at the bad language, which he heard from the boys even younger than himself; especially from those who carried newspapers, and from ill-looking chaps, who seemed to have no work to do. In a great city, it is impossible to avoid hearing such things; and the only way for a good boy is to take no notice of them, except to set the mind firmly against such evil words, asking God's help to be kept clear of the like sin. During the few moments of the day which he had to himself, and was waiting for his parcels or letters, Frank's mind strayed off to his country home; and he sighed to think that he was so far away. But he comforted himself by remembering what his father had told him at parting: "My son, you are going to a strange place; but if you are faithful, you will be able to support your mother and me in our old age." And then he said to himself, "I will do anything, and bear anything, to help my beloved parents." When the day was over, and the work of the store was done, he went slowly to his boarding-house, weary and sad. He took his hasty meal by himself, and then went to his room. Ned and Joc were in high glee about a nine-pin alley, which they had been visiting; but Frank could not enter into their pleasure. They laughed at him when he sat down to his Bible; and, for a moment, he thought he would shut it up. But then he remembered how often his mother had told him 66 never to be shamed out of what was good," and so he read on. He was afterwards glad of this; for, in a little time, they grew weary of their jesting. He even summoned up resolution to kneel down by his bed and pray; though Joe sang "Old Dan Tucker," on purpose to disturb him, and Ned threw a bit of old rag over his head while he was on his knees. I cannot say that poor Frank's thoughts did not wander a little; but he thus gained a great victory over himself. The boys fixed on him the name of the Parson: and gave notice at the table that he would preach the next Sunday. Frand coloured a little, but was wise enough to say nothing. Let the reader observe, that a boy who is afraid of being laughed at, will never become a man of independence; and a boy who is laughed out of his prayers will be very likely to be laughed out of many other good habits and principles. CHAPTER II. TEMPTATION AND TROUBLE. A FEW weeks passed away, and Frank had become quite familiar with his business. His home-sickness was much relieved. He had received two pleasant letters from home, which he carefully folded up, after he had read them about twenty times. He had sent a knittingbasket to his mother, and a pair of gloves to each of his sisters. It was becoming easy for him to find his way. He was quite at home at the post-office, the wharves, and the banks. Messrs. Boggs and Buncombe, his employers, began to find that he was always in his place; the clerks saw that he was good-natured; and Wickes, the book-keeper, had even gone so far as to give him a second-hand pinchbeck watch, which kept tolerable time if carefully set every morning. But trouble was near. And let me tell my young reader, no youth in town can escape trouble. One very cold night, when he came home from the store, he found Briggs and Denton waiting for him at the door. 66 "Come, my lad," said Denton, we are going to the Bowery Theatre, and we mean to take you along." "I thank you," said Frank," but I do not wish to go." "Not wish to go!" cried he; "and why not? It shall cost you nothing; we are going to treat. You shall go, Mr. Parson." To make an unpleasant story short, they persuaded Frank against his convictions. He went. Their seat was in the gallery, and he found, to his sorrow, that he was among bad men and bad women. He saw and heard things that night which made him sure it was a wicked place. For a few moments, the novelty of the thing pleased him. He listened to charming music. He saw fine players, decked and painted; and he was astonished at the scenery and the dancing. But he also saw and heard things which he knew were neither modest nor virtuous; and his heart was full of the conviction that he was in the wrong place. When they came out, in a great crowd, about eleven o'clock at night, he turned to the boys and said, "Now, mind what I say; this is the first time I ever was in a theatre, and it shall be the last." This raised a loud laugh. "Aha!" said Ned, 66 do you say so? Very well; so we said, three years ago; but we have got well over that; haven't we, Joe?" "Yes," answered Joe, I go to the theatre every week; and some day I will tell you where we get the money. And there are other places, too, where we mean to take you; mind that, Mr. Parson." These words opened Frank's eyes; he began to see his danger, and was more firmly resolved to resist these temptations. He thought over several texts of Scripture, and wished he had remembered them a little sooner. How solemnly his aged father had said to him, "My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not." When they reached their boarding-house in Dey Street, the boys found that they were locked out; for it was near midnight. The noise of wheels had almost ceased in Broadway, and the only sound they heard was the sharp click of the watchman's staff upon the flagstones. |