When
those boys become so good that they can be no better, they generally lie
down, call all their playmates around them, deliver a farewell sermon, and
then depart. The mistake of that sort of life is that it makes religion
unattractive. It gives the idea that "the good die young," and that a
jolly, genial, fun-loving boy, bubbling over sometimes with mischief,
cannot be a Christian, when he is the very one that most pleases his
heavenly Father.
Tom had his fun, his enjoyment, and now and then his crosses. Such things
are inevitable and must be looked for. A thorn appeared in his side from
the first. A young clerk that had entered the store a few weeks ahead of
him was a sly, mean, gnarly fellow, who showed a dislike to the new-comer
and annoyed him in every way possible. He was larger and apparently
stronger than Tom, and seemed determined to provoke a quarrel with him.
Tom would have been glad to challenge him to a bout at fisticuffs, for he
was confident he could vanquish him in short order. He often yearned to do
so. More than once the hot defiance was tugging at his lips; but the
memory of poor Jim Travers's parting words, "Tom, try to be better: I tell
you, you won't be sorry when you come to die," restrained the angry
utterance and the hasty blow.
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