Horace took hold of Edward's hand, and they ran up stairs together. When they got into their Uncle's room, they shut the door. There was nobody in the room but the two little boys; so Edward thought it was a fine chance to do some mischief. He began to open all the drawers, and look at the things that were in them; he took out a bottle that was full of cologne water, and calling Horace to him, he poured it all out, some of it on his brother's hair and some on his own. Their hair was all wet with the cologne, and it ran down their faces.
After he had done this, he saw a pair of scissors in the same drawer.
"Sit down, Horace," said he, "and I will cut your hair for you: it wants cutting very much."
Horace was a little fellow; he was only three years old; but Edward was six years old, and knew better than to be doing all this mischief.
Horace sat down and Edward cut his hair all over. He cut bunches out in different parts, close to his head, and made it look frightful, but he said, "Dear me! how nice you look! now you cut my hair."
So Horace cut Edward's hair, and almost cut off his ears, and hardly left any hair on his head.
After that, this naughty boy Edward took his Uncle's best coat out of the drawer and put it on. The tails of the coat dragged on the ground, and it made Horace laugh very much to see his brother marching round, with the tails of the coat dragging on the ground.
When he was tired of wearing the coat, he took it off. He did not put it back in the drawer, but threw it on the floor, where all the hair was, that he and his brother had cut.
Presently he ran to the wash-stand. He lifted the pitcher. It was full of water, and very heavy, and he spilled some of the water on the carpet. Then he poured out the water into the slop-jar, which stood by the side of the wash-stand, and in doing it, he spilled the water all round the outside of the slop-jar and wet the carpet.
Did you ever hear of such a naughty boy before? But this is not half as bad as what I am now going to tell you.
Little Horace had done just as he saw his brother do – for little boys will always follow the example of their older brothers. If any little boy reads this, that has a brother younger than himself, I hope he will remember this, and try to set his little brother a good example.
Well, as I was telling you, Horace opened the drawer of the wash-stand, and took out a box of tooth-powder, and then he got a glove out of another drawer, and then he wet the glove and dipped it in the tooth-powder. Some of the powder stuck to the glove, and with this he began to rub the brass tops of the tongs and poker.
"Only see, Edward," cried he, "how nice this cleans the brass! I am rubbing it, just as I saw Jenny do, and I am making it look so clean and bright! don't it make it bright, Edward?"
"Oh yes! very bright," said Edward, "but only look here, what I have found! a beautiful razor! oh my! how sharp it is! Uncle James shaves with it every morning. I'll tell you a first-rate play, Horace. I will be a barber, and you shall come to me to be shaved. You know I will only make believe; I won't really shave you."
"Oh that will be fine," said Horace, throwing down the tooth-powder, "that will be fine! Put some soap on my face, brother."
"Yes," said Edward, "I will make a great lot of soap-suds, and put it all over your face. Oh! won't it be nice? won't it be a grand play?"
So saying, he got out the shaving-brush, and dipped it into the water that was in the slop-jar, and rubbed it on the soap, till he had made a great lather. He called it soap-suds, and then he put it all over Horace's face with the brush, and made him look like a fright.
Then this naughty boy took the sharp and shining razor, and began to shave the soap off his face. At first he only took the soap off, but the next time he took off a piece of the skin from Horace's face.
The little boy said, "Oh, Edward! you hurt me. I don't want to be shaved any more! It isn't a good play at all!"
"Don't be a coward," said Edward; "it always hurts to be shaved; come, let me do it once more."
Horace was not afraid of a little pain, and he did not like to be called a coward. He believed what his brother told him. So he held up his face, and Edward began again to scrape off the lather; but this time Horace moved just as he put the razor on his face, and it took the skin all off of his cheek.
It began to bleed terribly, and smarted so much, that Horace screamed, and ran out of the room, and down stairs into the kitchen where his Mother was.
She was very much frightened when she saw the little boy with his face covered with blood and lather, and cried,
"What is the matter with you, my child? What have you been doing?"
"Oh, Mamma!" said he, crying bitterly, "Edward has been shaving me, and I am all cut to pieces – Oh! how it hurts me – will it kill me, Mamma?"
His Mother got some water quickly and washed his face. She saw that he was very much cut. She was very sorry indeed, and tied up his face, and did every thing she could think of, to relieve the pain. But it hurt him very much all that day and the next.
When Edward came down stairs, he was afraid to come where his Mother was, because he knew he had been a very naughty boy, and he was sure she would punish him. So he went and hid himself under the bed.
His Mother called, "Edward! Edward!" but he was afraid to come. So she had to hunt for him, and found him all curled up as small as possible under the bed.
"Come out instantly," said his Mother.
Edward crept out and began to cry, and beg his Mother not to punish him, but his Mother said:
"Edward, you knew you were doing wrong when you got your uncle's razors to play with, and if I do not punish you, you will always be doing mischief, and grow up to be a very bad man."
So his Mother took a birch-rod out of the closet, and gave Edward a very severe whipping; so severe that he remembered it for a long time, and although after a great while he forgot, and sometimes was tempted to do wrong, he never wanted to play barber again, or make believe shave any body with a razor.
THE BROTHERS
One day Henry came bounding home from school, his face beaming with joy. He was head of his class, and he held fast in his hand a fine silver medal, which had been awarded to him for good behavior.
"Oh!" said he to himself as he ran along, "how happy this will make my dear Mother. I know she will kiss me; perhaps she will kiss me five or six times, and call me her dear, dear boy. Oh! how I love my Mother."
He ran up the steps of the house where he lived as he said this, and pulled the bell very hard, for he was in a great hurry. His Father opened the door. "Hush! Henry," said he, "come in very softly, your Mother is very sick."
"My Mother! Dear Father, what is the matter with her? May I go in to her if I will step very softly?"
"No," said his Father, "you must not see her now; you must be very still indeed. I see, my dear boy, that you have been rewarded for good conduct in school; I am glad that I have so good a son. And now, Henry, I know you love your Mother so much, that you will promise me to be very still, and wait patiently until she is able to see you." As he said this, he drew Henry close to him, and smoothed down his long curling hair, and kissed his cheek.
Henry threw his arms around his Father's neck, and promised him, and then putting away his medal, he went softly on tiptoe up to his play-room, and shutting the door, began to work on a sloop that he was rigging. He did not get on very fast, for he could not help thinking of his dear Mother, and wishing he could see her. She had hemmed all the sails of the sloop for him, and he was going to name it the "Eliza," after her.
The next morning, Susan, the old nurse, knocked very early at the door of the room where Henry slept. "Master Henry," said she, "what do you think happened last night?"
"What did?" said Henry, sitting up in the bed; "is my Mother better?"
"Yes, she is better," replied Susan, "but do guess what has come. Something that you have wished for very often. Something