He wandered to the woods, and threw himself upon the ground. One hour
ago he was a happy boy, and now what a terrible change! What had made
the difference?--Nothing but the indulgence of this wicked, violent
temper.
His mother had often warned him of the fearful consequences. She had
told him that little boys who would not learn to govern themselves, grew
up to be very wicked men, and often became murderers in some moment of
passion.
And now, Tom shuddered to think he was almost a murderer! Nothing but
God's great mercy in putting that rope in Dick's way, had saved him
from carrying that load of sorrow and guilt all the rest of his life.
But poor Dick might die yet--how pale he looked--how strange! Tom fell
upon his knees, and prayed God to spare Dick's life, and from that time
forth, with God's help, he promised that he would strive to conquer his
wicked temper.
Then, as he could no longer bear his terrible suspense, he started for
Widow Casey's cottage. As he appeared at the humble door, Mrs. Casey
angrily ordered him away, saying, "You have made a poor woman trouble
enough for one day." But Dick's feeble voice entreated, "O mother, let
him come in; I was just as bad as he."
Tom gave a cry of joy at hearing these welcome tones, and sprang hastily
in.
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