LIV.

A PRETTY STREET INCIDENT.

The other day a horse was trying to get a very small quantity of oats
from the depths of a very small nosebag. In vain the poor fellow
tossed his head and did his best to gain his dinner. At last, just as
he was settling down to dumb and despairing patience, a bright-faced
boy of perhaps ten or twelve years of age happened along. Seeing the
dilemma of the horse, the little fellow stopped and said: "Halloa,
can't get your oats, can you? Never mind, I'll fix you!" And
straightway he shortened up the straps that held the bag in place, and,
with a kindly pat and a cheery word which the grateful horse seemed to
appreciate, went his way. I would like to be the mother, or the aunt,
or even the first cousin of that boy. I would rather that he should
belong to me than that I should own a Paganini violin, or a first-water
diamond the size of a Concord grape. Bless his heart, wherever he is,
and may he long continue to live in a world that needs him. Kindness
of heart, and tenderness; consideration for the needs of the helpless
and the weak, and the courage that dares be true to a merciful impulse,
are traits that go far toward the make-up of angels. We need
tender-hearted boys more than we need a new tariff to bring up and
develop the resources of the country. The boy that succeeds in
bringing in the greatest number of dead sparrows may be the embryo man
of the future, and you may praise his energy and his smartness, but
give me the boy who took the trouble to adjust the nose-bag every time.
A little less business acumen, a good bit less greed and cruelty, will
tell on future character to the comfort of all concerned.