Bruno

Thus Bruno always felt an interest in all that interested his master, and he stood by ready to help, even when there was nothing for him to do. It is always a source of great pleasure to a father to observe that his boy takes an interest in what he is doing, and stands ready to help him, provided always that he does not interrupt the work by asking questions. This Bruno never did. He never interrupted work in any way, and least of all by asking questions.

It is far more manly and noble for boys to take an interest, sometimes, in useful work, than to be wholly absorbed, as some boys are, all the time in idle play.

TAKING AN INTEREST

Important difference between the dog and the horse.

There is a great difference between the dog and the horse, in respect to the interest which they take in any work which they have to do. A horse does not like to work. He never runs to his master to be saddled when his master wishes to go and take a ride. If he runs either way, he runs off. If you wish any time to take a ride in a wagon, and you go into the pasture to find your horse, it is often very hard work to catch him. He knows that you are going to harness him up, and give him something to do, and he does not like to do it; so away he goes, bounding over the pasture, and looking back, first over one shoulder, and then over the other, to see whether you are pursuing him.

It is very different with the dog. As soon as he sees his master take down his hat and cane, he jumps up and runs to accompany him. He desires, above all things, to accompany his master wherever he goes, that he may protect him, and render him any other service which occasion may require.

It is true that a dog does not generally like to be harnessed into a wagon, and draw, but the reason of this probably is, that drawing a load is not a work that he is by nature fitted for. He is not properly built for such work. His shoulders are not fitted to receive a collar, and his feet are not of the right form to take good hold of the ground. The nature and qualities of the dog fit him for other duties, and these duties he is always greatly interested in performing. If his master is a traveler, he is always ready to set out on the journey with him. If his master stays at home, he is always on the watch about the house, guarding the premises, and ready to do any thing that he may be called upon to do. In a word, such duties as he is at all qualified for by his nature and habits, he is always ready to perform with alacrity and with hearty good-will.

Supposed black pony. How valuable such a pony would be.

What a fine thing it would be for a boy to have a horse of such a disposition – a little black pony, I will suppose – just large enough for the boy to harness and drive! Suppose you had such a pony. You take the bridle, and go out into the pasture for him some day when you feel inclined to take a ride. As soon as you enter the pasture, you call him. Immediately on hearing your voice, he runs out of the thicket where he was lying in the shade, and ascends an eminence near, so that he can see. He looks all around to find where the voice comes from, and when he sees you with the bridle in your hand, he immediately feels proud and happy at the thought of being employed, and he comes galloping toward you, prancing and capering in a very joyous manner.

As soon as he gets near you, he ceases his prancing, and, walking up to you, he holds his head down that you may put the bridle on. As soon as the bridle is buckled, you put the bridle-rein over his neck, and say,

“There! run along, pony!”

So your pony runs along before you, looking back from time to time, first over one shoulder, and then over the other, not to see whether you are pursuing him, in order that he may escape, but to be sure that you are following him, and that he is going the right way. When he gets to the gate, he waits till you come to open it for him; or, if he has ingenuity enough to lift up the latch himself, he opens the gate and goes through, and then waits outside till you come. As soon as you have gone through the gate, he trots off to the barn. He does not know yet whether you are going to put the saddle on, or to harness him into your little wagon. But he is equally ready for either. He looks forward with great pleasure to the thought of carrying you along over a pleasant road, cantering merrily up and down the hills; and he resolves that he will take special care not to stumble or fall with you. Or, if he finds that you prefer riding in the wagon that day, he thinks how pleasant it will be to trot along over the road with you, and give you a good drive. If you stop any where by the way, he waits patiently where you leave him until you come back again. If he is in the wagon, he stands very still, lest he should do some damage to the vehicle by moving about. If he has a saddle on, he walks out to the road-side, perhaps, to crop the grass a little while he is waiting, but he lifts up his head now and then to see if you are coming, in order that he may be all ready to go on again when you wish to go.

It would certainly be a fine thing to have such a pony as that.

How useful and valuable such a boy would be.

But for a man, it is a finer thing to have such a boy as that. I never knew such ponies, but I have often known such boys. They take a special interest and pleasure in being useful, and especially in assisting their father and mother in any thing, no matter what it is, that their father and mother wish to do. They feel proud and happy to be employed, and come always with a ready alacrity whenever they are called upon, and to do what they can do with a hearty good-will.

Georgie at the raising. The way he acted.

Boys sometimes take an interest of the wrong kind in what their fathers are doing – that is, an interest which seeks for their own pleasure and amusement, and not for the furtherance of the work. There was a farmer, for instance, once, who had two sons, Lawrence and Georgie. The farmer was building a shed, and when the shed was framed, the carpenters came one afternoon to raise it. Lawrence was away from home when the carpenters came, having gone to mill, but Georgie was very much interested in the raising, and he brought several of the boys of the neighborhood to see it. With these boys he played about among the timbers of the frame, running along upon them from end to end, or jumping over them. He made a great deal of noise in singing to express his joy, and in calling to his companions.

“Georgie,” said his father, at last, “be still, or I shall send you away.”

His father should have sent him away at once, instead of threatening to do so if he was not still.

Boring.

Georgie was still after this, for he knew that his father would do as he said; but he soon found out other means of making trouble besides noise. He and the other boys went to one of the carpenters, who was boring a hole, and he began to beg the carpenter to let him take the auger and bore it.

“I can bore,” said he.

“I see you can,” said the carpenter, “but I wish you would not come here and bore me.”

The other carpenters who were near laughed at hearing this, and Georgie, not liking to be laughed at, walked away to another part of the work. Here he began to ask questions, such as what this beam was for, and what tenon was going into that mortice, and whether such and such a hole was not bored wrong. All these questions interrupted the workmen, confused them in their calculations, and hindered the work. At last, Georgie’s father told him not to ask any more questions, but to keep perfectly still.

He and the other boys make a balancer.

His father would, in fact, have sent him away entirely, were it not that he was wanted from time to time to do an errand, or fetch a tool. These errands, however, he did very slowly and reluctantly, so that he was of little service. Finally, he proposed to the boys that they should make a balancer, and they did so. They put up one short beam of wood upon another, and then, placing a plank across, two of the boys got on, one at each end, and began see-sawing up and down. This was their balancer.

“Isn’t it good fun,” said Georgie, as he went up into the air, “to have a raising?”

“Yes,” said the other boy, who was then down by the ground.

“I hope they won’t get through to-night,” said Georgie, coming down, “and then we can have some more fun to-morrow.”

A fall.

Just then the upper beam, which supported the balancer, fell off, and the plank, with the boys on it, came to the ground. There was now a great outcry. Georgie’s father and some of the carpenters came to see if the boys were hurt. They were not seriously hurt, but the accident occasioned quite an interruption to the raising.

So Georgie’s father, finding that the trouble which Georgie made him was greater far than any service that he rendered, sent him away.

Now this is not the right way to take an interest in what your father or mother is doing.

Lawrence comes home.

Lawrence got back from the mill just as Georgie went away. He immediately came and took Georgie’s place. He stationed himself near his father, so as to be ready to do any thing which might be required whenever he should be called upon. He observed carefully every thing that was done, but he asked no questions. If he saw that a tool was wanted, or going to be wanted, he brought it, so as to have it all ready the moment it should be required. Thus, although he could not do much substantial work himself, he assisted the men who could do it very much, and rendered very effectual service, so that the raising went on very prosperously, and was finished that night, greatly to his father’s satisfaction.

Conversation at the supper-table.

At supper that night the farmer took his seat at the table. His wife sat opposite to him. Lawrence was on one side, and Georgie on the other.

“Have you finished the raising?” said his wife.

“Yes,” said the farmer, “we have finished it. I did not expect to get through. But we have got through, and it is all owing to Lawrence.”

“Did he help you?” asked his wife.

“Yes,” said the farmer; “he forwarded the work, I think, a full half hour, and that just saved us.”

Now that is the right kind of interest to take in what your father and mother are doing.

Another incident.

At another time, one night after Georgie and Lawrence had gone to bed, they heard a sort of thumping sound out in the barn.

“Hark!” said Lawrence; “what is that noise?”

Georgie said he thought it could not be any thing of consequence, and so he shut up his eyes, and prepared to go to sleep. But Lawrence, though he was equally sleepy, felt afraid that something might be the matter with one of the horses; so he got up and went to his father’s room, and told his father about the noise. His father immediately rose and dressed himself, and went down to the barn.

“Georgie,” said Lawrence, “let us get up too. Perhaps we can help.”

“Oh no,” said Georgie, sleepily, “there is nothing that we could do.”

“I can hold the lantern, at any rate,” said Lawrence, “and do some good, perhaps, in that way.” So Lawrence dressed himself and went down stairs, while Georgie went to sleep again.

Lawrence takes an interest in his father’s concerns.