NEVER give up! for the wisest is boldest, III. THE BEST PRAYER. HE prayeth best who loveth best IV. SLANDER. BELIEVE not each accusing tongue, V. DON'T WORRY. FOR every evil under the sun If there is one, try and find it; VI. IDLE WORDS. O, MANY a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant ! May soothe or wound a heart that's broken' 87 66 XXIV. ONCE WELL DONE, TWICE DONE. AMES," said my father, directly after breakfast, one that pig, and I want you to make a pen for it. That shall be your job for the day; but, mind, you 're not to have any help about it." 2. "Yes, sir. What time will the pig be here?” Fond visions of the salmon-trout in Schroon Lake began to dance before my mind; for a pig-pen was only an hour's work, anyway. 3. "I shall bring the pig about ten o'clock. We can put him into the bacon-house till you get the pen ready for him. You can finish it by three o'clock, I suppose?" 4. "O yes; by noon," I responded, with that off-hand air of bravado peculiar to boys of fourteen. 5. "But it's no fool of a job to build a pig-pen," my father insisted, with some emphasis; "pigs are not hogs, and I want that pen made well. When work's well done, it's twice done." 6. I had a strong constitutional tendency to two things, shirking and fishing! As to the first, I was greatly assisted by three younger brothers, whom I could usually coax, threaten, hire, or wheedle into performing almost any task my father set me to do; while the latter pursuit I was always ready to follow unaided and alone. 7. However, I set about the task with a sort of bold and lion-like energy, greatly enhanced by thoughts of salmontrout. Posts were set, boards brought and nailed, door hung with leather hinges, and an old trough set in place. Three boards, reaching from the top of the pen to the ground, with some clean straw, made a chamber in which the prince of pigs would have grunted with delight. The perfection of these arrangements was only equalled by the despatch with which they had been executed. 8. I was proud of my skill, and was overhauling my fishing-tackle when piggy arrived. My father expressed a ONCE WELL DONE, TWICE DONE. 89 good deal of surprise at my expedition, and hoped the pen was strong enough to hold its tenant. 9. This particular pig was one of the wickedest-looking I ever saw. He did not squeal, as other pigs do; but, as soon as he was admitted to the pen, sought the farthest corner, and looked at us with eyes full of sly malice and cunning. 10. I forgot the salmon-trout until nearly dinner-time. I had almost finished my ham and eggs, when my youngest brother, Will, who had hurried out to get another look at the stranger, came running in with the direful tidings, “Jim, Jim! the pig's out! and don't he cut!" 11. I was rude enough to leave the table while my father was remarking something about " when work 's well done." I didn't stop to catch the remainder of the sentence, but started after that pig. I may here state that I had the able assistance of my three brothers, gradually recruited by all the boys in the neighborhood. 12. Piggy had a good start, and took to the woods. Talk of Dexter, Peg'asus, or seven-league boots, that pig outstripped the best of them! I think there is a great difference in pigs in regard to speed. At any rate, this individual pig gave us such a chase as I never heard of before or since, running into the deepest jungles, and when we thought he was surrounded, disappearing over a distant hill. 13. Finally, after a great deal of manoeuvring and skilful tactics, we brought him into a snare, where the high rocks on one side and the water on the other were too much for the poor pig. Pieces of twine were immediately produced from the well-stocked pockets of his numerous captors, and his legs secured so that it was quite impossible for him to use them, while the deafening din that rent the air proved well that piggy could squeal if he tried. 14. I carried him home in my arms, and consigned him for the time to the bacon-house, while I repaired the mischief. He had rooted out under one corner of the pen and easily made his escape. 8 15. I brought more boards, dug a trench all round the outside, and made it quite impossible for my ingenious foe to root out again. The clock struck three! I 16. Considerably depressed in mind and body, I shouldered my fishing-pole, and wearily started towards Schroon Lake. There was still time to hook half a dozen trout. had scarcely reached the summit of the hill, when the excited cry of Brother George struck a chill to the roots of my hair. “Jim, Jim! the pig's out!" 17. Despair settled over me. I turned homeward, and the first thing I did was to stow my fishing-tackle away in the barn chamber. 18. For my own part, I was already fatigued with the day's sport; but that pig seemed invigorated by it, and started in another direction. As I came in sight of him, a friendly neighbor was heading him off, and buoyant hope rose again in my breast. In vain! Piggy ran between his legs, and disappeared down the slope. It was two hours later when he was again secured. This time he had run up on the inclined plane of his chamber roof, and, jumping off, made his second escape. 19. My state of mind can better be imagined than described; and my father's silent and quizzical inspection of my work did not tend to soothe my wounded spirit. 20. Talk of the mischievous genius of a boy! It is nothing compared with the inventive talents of a pig. 21. I cannot say, as story-books do, that from this time forth I was a reformed youth; but I am very sure that the freaks of that pig made quite as salutary an impression upon my mind, and had as great an influence upon my future conduct, as my father's oft-repeated observation, "WHEN A THING 'S WELL DONE, IT'S TWICE DONE." L. A. B. Curtis. THE SWALLOW AND HER NEST. XXV. - THE SWALLOW AND HER NEST. A I. SWALLOW in the spring Came to our granary, and 'neath the eaves Essayed to make her nest, and there did bring With patient art; but, ere her work was crowned, And dashed it to the ground. III. She found the ruin wrought; Yet not cast down, forth from her place she flew, IV. But scarcely had she placed The last soft feather on its ample floor, When wicked hands, or chance, again laid waste, V. But still her heart she kept, And toiled again; and, last night hearing calls, VI. What trust is here, O man! Hath hope been smitten in its early dawn? R. S. S. Andros. 91 |