Original.

FAULT FINDING—­THE ANTIDOTE.

“Will you excuse me, mother,” said a bright looking boy of twelve or thirteen to his mother, as soon as he had finished his meat and potato.  “Yes, if you wish.”  “And may I be excused too, mother?” cried his little brother of some six or seven years.  “Yes, dear, if there is any occasion for such haste, but why do you not wish for your pudding or fruit?” “Oh, Charley is going to show me something,” replied the happy little boy, as he eagerly hastened from his seat, and followed his brother to the window, where they were both speedily intent upon a new bow and arrow, which had just been presented to Charley by a poor wandering Indian, to whom he had been in the habit of giving such little matters as his means would allow.  Sometimes a little tobacco for his pipe, a pair of his father’s cast-off boots or a half-worn pair of stockings, and sometimes he would beg of his mother a fourpence, which instead of purchasing candy for himself was slid into the hand of his aboriginal friend, and whenever he came, a good warm dinner was set before him, under Charley’s special direction.  He loved the poor Indian, and often told his mother he would always help an Indian while he had the power, for “Oh, how sorry I am that they are driven away from all these pleasant lands,” he often used to say, “and are melting away, like the snows in April.  Mother, I should think they would hate the sight of a white man.”  But the poor Indian is grateful for kindness from a white man, and this day as Charley came from school, poor Squantum was sitting at the corner of the house waiting for him, with a fine long smooth bow, and several arrows.  “I give you this,” he said, “for you always good to Squantum;” and without waiting for Charley’s thanks, or accepting his earnest invitation to come in and get some dinner, he strode away.  Charley was wild with delight.  He flew to the house with his treasure, but the dinner-bell rang at that moment.  He could not find in his heart to put it out of his hand, so he took it with him, and seated himself at the table, and as soon as his hunger was appeased, he nodded to his brother and hurried to show him his precious gift.  The family were quietly conversing and finishing their dinner, when crash! and smash! went something!  Poor Charley!  In the eagerness of his delight, while showing the beautiful bow to his brother, he had brought the end of it within the handle of a large water-pitcher, which stood on the side table near him, and alas, the twirl was too sudden—­the poor pitcher came to the floor with a mighty emphasis.  “Boy! what are you about?  What have you done?  What do you mean by such carelessness?  Will you break everything in the house, you heedless fellow?  I’d rather you had broken all on the table than that pitcher, you young scapegrace.  Take that, and learn to mind what you are about, or I’ll take measures to make you.”  And with a thorough shaking, and a sound box on the ear,