"Well," said John Miner, after a little reflection, "I don't know but Mr. Barlow and you are right, boys. Any how, I hope I never shall abuse an animal as I have seen some people. I think—don't you, William?—people would be a great deal better if they knew about things."
"Yes, I do, John; and I was thinking almost the very same things when Mr. Barlow was explaining to us some parts of the anatomy of the horse and cow. I thought, when God had seemed to take such pains to contrive them, so that they might enjoy their lives, it was a horrid shame for men to beat, and kick, and maim God's wonderful work:"
"And did not you think," asked Sam, "that part of it was good where he spoke of men beating horses and swearing at the same time—calling on God, as it were, to witness their abuse of his creatures? I guess, if they only stopped to think a minute, they would not do so."
"There is great use," replied William, "as Aunt Lottie always says, in thinking beforehand, and beginning right. Now, would it not be a good plan for us to draw up a paper, and sign it, resolving always to be kind and thoughtful for animals?" The boys readily agreed to the proposition. They retired to the writing-table. William wrote the resolution. They all signed it, and left it in his safe keeping; and many a dumb creature has since profited by it.
Little Ruth Aikin had drawn her stool close to Mr. Barlow, and was picking out nuts for him, while Juliet was paring his apple.
"That was a funny story you told, sir," said
