“There is an old saying, my dear little friends,” said Mr. Random, “which I wish you to attend to, because it has a great deal of truth in it:  ’The pitcher that goes often safe to the well may come home broken at last.’  And so, though the thoughtless and giddy may go on for a long while without danger, it will overtake them sooner or later.  Here is a strong instance of escape from the consequences which might have attended Richard’s thoughtlessness; besides which, his mother could get no more sleep all night, and I, after running the risk of catching cold in searching over the house, have this morning been at the expense of new fastenings to the doors and windows.  The next time, however, you rise, Richard, to alarm the family, you shall in future roost with the hens or bed in the stable.”

Dicky now thought that his parent’s resentment had subsided, and, upon the latter’s calling to him to come, he sprang across the room with the greatest alertness; but how suddenly was his smile cast down when Mr, Random, taking his hand, ordered him to wish his young friends much mirth and a good appetite, while he was going to be punished for his misconduct.  At once were all their little hands put out to prevent Mr. Random’s resolution of taking him away, but all their petitions were in vain.  Richard was forced into an empty cellar, and left with no other companion than a glimmering rushlight.  Here he was told he might do as much mischief as he pleased.  The iron bars kept him from getting out on one side, and the door was padlocked on the other.  In this dilemma he marched round and round, crying, with his little candle, and saw stuck on the walls the following lines: 

  “Empty caves and commons wild
  Best befit a thoughtless child,
  A solid wall, an earthen floor,
  Prison lights, a padlock’d door,
  Where’s no plaything which he may
  Turn to harm by random play,
  For in such sport too oft is found
  A penny-toy will cost a pound. 
  Be wise and merry;—–­play, but think;
  For danger stands on folly’s brink.”

After having been kept in confinement nearly half an hour, Mr. Random could no longer resist the pressing solicitations of his son’s guests, who declined partaking of the supper till Richard was returned to them.

Having learned the above lines by heart, he repeated them to his young company, and, on his promising to remember their contents, he was permitted to sit down to table.

The rest of the evening was spent in innocent cheerfulness, and for some time after little Random played with more caution.

We must omit many of the less important neglects of young Random, such as letting the toast fall in handling it, shooting his arrow through the window, riding a long stick where it might throw persons down, leaving things in the way at dark, etc., and proceed to relate a good-natured fancy of his which tended more than any of the preceding events, to show him the folly of taking any step without first looking to what it might lead.