"I'm bad," (this was the way he broke out upon the old man after the usual discipline,)--"I know I'm bad, and all the worse for the way you try to make me good. There's Phil Elderkin, now,--you say to me, over and over, 'See Phil, he doesn't do so.' But he does,--only his father knows he does; he a'n't punished, if he isn't in at nine o'clock for prayers, without telling where he's been. It's all underhanded with me, and with Phil it's all aboveboard. I have to read proper books that I don't care a copper about, and so I steal 'em into my chamber; and Aunt Eliza, prying about, finds 'Arabian Nights' hid under the sheets; and then there's a row! Phil reads 'em; and there's nobody forever looking over his shoulder to see what he's reading. I think Phil's father trusts him more than you do me."
"But, my son, you tell me you are bad, and that I can't trust you."
"You can't, because you don't; and that makes me feel the Devil in me."
"I know it; you think it's a bad word; but Phil says Devil; and it's true. And besides, you forbid my going where the other boys go, and that maddens me and makes me swear, and the fellows laugh; and because I can't go, I do something worse."
"My poor Reuben, do you know where such badness will lead you?"
"Oh, yes, I know; I've heard it often enough; it'll lead to hell, I guess."
"I can't help it, father. There's Phil and Gus Hapgood went chestnutting the other Saturday, and because you were afraid I shouldn't be back before sundown you kept me at home. I know I was ten times worse than if I'd been out chestnutting all night and half Sunday. I hate Sunday!"
"That, Reuben, is because you are wicked."
"I am glad, my son, that you see your sins and admit them."
"There's not much comfort in that," Reuben had said. "I'm none the better for it."
"It's the first step, my son, toward repentance."
Reuben laughed a bitter laugh,--a laugh that made his father shudder.
"Sit down with me now, Reuben, and read a chapter in God's word; and after it we will pray for His help."
"There it is again!" the boy had replied. "I knew it would come to that!"
"No, Sir, I don't, because I know it wouldn't be any use; for if I did, I should have to go up stairs and mope in my chamber, and have Aunt Eliza staring in upon me as if I was a murderer. But I sha'n't know what you read five minutes after."