“Why, no; what made, you think of that?” asked George, astonished.
“Because grandma has often told me, that to boast is rude, unkind, and wicked,” replied Frank.
“Ha, ha! how very odd!” cried George; “whatever could she mean?”
“I know,” said Frank.
“Then, tell me; do.”
“No, no; for you will only laugh, and then I shall feel vexed; so, say no more about it,” returned Frank.
“But I will not laugh, upon my word,” said George, who felt his curiosity excited.
“Well, then,” said Frank, looking a little shy; “she says, that it is rude, because it seems as if I thought myself above my schoolfellows; and it is unkind, because, by doing so, I pain their feelings; and it is wicked, because God expects us to be humbly thankful for all the good things He gives us; and not to bride ourselves upon them, in the least.”
“I can’t see any good in it,” said George. “I know, that I am very proud to show my presents, when I get any; and I see no harm in it, I’m sure.”
“But my grandma knows more than you about it, a great deal,” said Frank; “and so she shall tell you, when you see her; for I mean to ask her, if you may go with us, to see ‘The Crystal Palace.’”
“Oh no; I think you had better not; she might be angry if you did,” said George, with a look that plainly contradicted what he said.
“Why, bless you, grandma’s never angry,” said Frank, laughing at the very thought; “for she’s the very kindest, dearest grandma in the world, I do believe; and says, she never likes to disappoint me, when I ask for what is right”
“I wish I had a grandma like her,” said George, pouting; “for then I should see every sight in London; I would teaze her till I did. I often try to do so now; but mother looks as if she soon would cry, and bids me say no more about it; for that she has neither time nor strength to take me out.”
“Dear me; I would not ask her then,” said little Frank: “because fatigue might make her worse, you know; and then, how very sorry you would feel!”
George gave a little kind of cough, that seemed to say, lie should not feel for anything so much as his own pleasures.
“Besides,” continued Frank, “I am always told, that only naughty children teaze; and I should never be rewarded for impatience.”
“Ah! that’s all very fine,” cried George; “but how is one to get one’s way without? I suppose that you would have me stay at home, and mope with mother all the holidays, and never go outside the door. But that is not the way I manage, I can tell you; for I often slip away, and run out on the sly, and have a game with any boys I meet.”
“What! without asking leave?” inquired Frank, looking at him sorrowfully.
“To be sure I do,” said George.
“Well; I should be quite frightened,” replied Frank. “And the thought that my mother might miss me, and be made uneasy, would be sure to spoil my sport.”