352 THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

 

The Honest Negro.

pout thirty years ago—so runs a
story which I cut from one of the
newspapers of the day—there
lived on the banks of the Susque-

hanna a poor negro, who had the good
fortune to own a cow. But by unforeseen
circumstances, he had been deprived of
the means of sustenance fur her. How
to keep this cow from starving, was now
the great. exciting question. He was
honest to a fault, and detested the name
of thief; but after canvassing the subject
in different ways, was forced to come to
the conclusion that his cow must either
die, or he must go to his neighbor's barn
and get hay for her. Accordingly, one
night he went, and began to pitch off a
quantity to take home. At the same
time, he was continually talking to him-
self aloud, and saying—* Honesty is the
best policy, but my cow. shall not die.”
At last, however, his honest nature tri-
umphed, and he commenced pitching the
hay back on the mow, saying, “ Honesty
is the best policy, and my cow shall die,”
saying which he laid down the fork and
went home. “My cow will die,” said he,
“but I will not steal for her.”

But his cow lived, and had plenty to
eat, and he did not steal it. No, for the
next day the farmer brought him a load
of hay, saying to him—“ Honesty is the
best. policy, and your cow shall not die.”
The poor negro was overwhelmed and
confused. It was evident that the farmer
had heard his soliloquy the night before,
and had taken this plan to reward him
for his honesty. He rallied, and thanked
the donor profusely, telling him he had
saved him from becoming a dishonest
mav. The story has its own moral.

   

Thy Brother has Fallen.

Thy brother has fallen—
O, go to him now,
With love in thy bosom
And smiles on thy brow:
Speak words of pure kindness,
And bid him arise
From error to virtue,
From earth to the skies.

Thy brother has fallen—
Assist him to stand ;
Throw round him thy mantle,
Extend him thy hand.
Be gentle—be tender,
Persuasive and kind—
And to his heart’s centre
A way thou wilt find.

Though sunk and degraded
By error and vice,
Till early affections
Are cold as the ice:
Compassion and kindness
Once felt in the heart,
Will melt to contrition
By the warmth they impart.

Thy brother has fallen—
O, hasten to give
The help that is needed,
And bid him to live:
Wait not fur the morrow
To-day is the time,
Before he is hardened
In error and crime.

Ask not for the reason
That brought him so low;
That he is disgraced, is
Sufficient to know.
When Virtue has triumphed—
Joy beams in his eye—
With tears he will bless thee
With hands to the sky.

To save a lost brother,
What honor so great !
Yet thousands neglected
Are left to their fate ;
When a word—a look even
Would virtue restore,
And keep the lost brother
From wandering more, D.C. O