The Golden Rule by Madeline Leslie

I TOLD you that Mrs. Russel went back into the house. She had told her husband that very morning that she never knew a boy so changed as Oscar was. "Only," she said, "I'm afraid it wont last. If it does, I shall think Mrs. Monson is a witch."

Now she said in her heart, flinging herself into a large rocking-chair, with a sigh,-

"There, it's all over! I knew it would be. He's just as ugly as ever. I wish I hadn't given him the chickens. I thought 'twould kind of encourage him to keep on being good. But now, after all my fuss in feeding the old hen, there he was setting Tom on to kill her. I declare, I can't help crying."

She sat thinking for a few minutes, and then said to herself, "He's up to some mischief again, I'll warrant. He always is when he's still."

She went out, softly, and stood behind the barn door. She could not see him, and was just about to call his name, "Oscar! Oscar! " when she heard his voice.

He was beginning his prayer.

I think no mother was ever more astonished at what she heard. She held her breath to listen. Could it be her wicked boy asking God to help him to be good, and praying for her, too?

She covered her face with her apron, and began to sob. Oscar heard her and ran out.

"O ma! " he cried. "You may lick me, if you want to; but I am sorry I was naughty. O ma! I like trying to be good. I guess God is going to help me. Don't you?"

Instead of answering, Mrs. Russel threw her arms round her boy's neck, and kissed him ever so many times.

"I heard you praying," she said, at last; "and for me, too. O Oscar! I used to pray; but I forgot it years ago. We'll try to be good together; and you shall have some new clothes, and we'll all go to church. You know Mrs. Monson said we ought. I'm sure your pa will be willing when he knows what's making you so different."

I wish you could have seen Oscar that afternoon! His face was full of smiles. He was very happy. When his mother said her wood was too large for her stove, he went out and split quite a pile of it for her, whistling all the time.

Toward night he sat on the front step, trying to spell out some words in a book Charley gave him, when Mr. Monson's carriage drove slowly toward the gate. Charley was inside, and Oscar heard him say,-

"Just a minute, mamma. I want to speak to him. " And then the driver stopped and Charley jumped out.

The boys talked earnestly for a few minutes, and then Charley said, aloud,-

"Oh, I'm so glad! I'll ask mamma to let me come again. I knew you would."

"Charley! Charley! " called Oscar, as the carriage was driving away. "Do you like birch whistles? 'Cause father showed me how to make 'em, and I'll make you one."

"I should admire one! " shouted back Charley, and then he told his mother that Oscar had begun to pray, and how happy he was because he was trying to be good.

A day or two after this, Mrs. Monson and Charley went to the city for a visit. They often talked about Oscar, and wondered how he was getting on. The lady determined to urge his mother to send him to school regularly, and to form habits of industry in her boy.

One day they went to a hat store, and Mrs. Monson made Charley very happy by giving him a nice cap for his friend, to wear to Sunday school.