What Have You Done?

"SIR," said a lad coming down on a wharf

in Boston and addressing a well-known merchant

"sir, have you any berth for me on

your ship? I want to earn something."

"What can you do?" asked the gentleman.

"I can try my best to do whatever I am

put to," answered the boy.

"What have you done?"

"I have sawed and split all mother's wood

for nigh two years."

"What have you not done?" asked the gentleman,

which was a queer sort of question.

"Well, sir," answered the boy, after a moment's

pause, "I have not whispered once in

school for a whole year."

"That's enough," said the gentleman, " you

may ship aboard this vessel, and I hope to see

you master of her some day. A boy who can

master a wood-pile and bridle his tongue must

be made of good stuff."


 Having Courage.

"WHAT'S the reason you are not a Christian,


"I hardly know."

"Do you wish to be?"

"Yes. I would give anything if I were a

real Christian."

"You know the way. It is simple."

"I know it, but "

"But what?"

"To be honest, Mr. , the real reason is

because I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Of the boys those I know and meet with

every day."

“And what of them? What will they do

or say?"

"They will not do anything; but they will

laugh at and plague me, and call me pious, or

something of the kind."

"Would that hurt you?"

"It would hurt my feelings. I can't bear

to be laughed at."

"Not for Christ's sake? Not for his love?"

"It would be hard."

"Perhaps so; but if you are ever to be a

Christian, you must be willing to bear as

much as this. Let us see what your friend

here, thinks of it. James, you love the Saviour,

do you not?"

"I do."

"And have the boys troubled you very


"Not at all. I made up my mind to take

the laugh as it comes. I expected the boys

would begin on me when I went to school,

but they never have."

"And if they should?"

"I should be more sorry for them than for

myself. It is so sweet to love Jesus, that I

can afford to be laughed at a little, or even

more than that."

"Henry, perhaps it would be the same

with you; but you have not the courage to do

what you know you ought. Are you willing

to be a coward still?" 

S. S. Times.

Yes, boys, it is the want of true courage

that brings you a large part of the sneers and

taunts you receive from your wicked


If they could see that you were fully decided

to give up the world and serve the

Lord, they would respect you. If they could

see that your sole anxiety was to please your

Master, and that if you could have his approval,

you cared very little for their displeasure,

they would soon cease to ridicule

you. Try it boys, and see if it is not so.