From Choice Stories for Children

The Hard Way

“Frank, I have one more errand for you; then you may go and play the rest of the afternoon.”

“Yes, Father, thanks. What is it you want me to do?”

Frank’s father went behind the counter and drew out a little drawer. The man handed his son a silver dollar and said: “You may carry this to Widow Boardman. Be careful not to lose it.”

“I’ll be careful,” promised Frank, and then went out the door.

It was the first day of vacation. The boy felt happy as he trudged along the road. He was thinking of the good days ahead—two weeks and no school! Perhaps the pleasant day, the fresh air, and the sunlight had something to do with making him happy. Something else helped to make Frank happy, although he was not thinking about it. He had tried his best to do right. It makes a wonderful difference when we know we are doing our best.

Mrs. Boardman lived some distance up the road. Frank had already passed the schoolhouse, and the little pond, and was passing the willow grove, when suddenly he decided to make a whistle to blow along the way. So, putting the dollar in his jacket pocket, he climbed over the fence and cut several willow twigs. He went along with the twigs in his hand, until he reached a log lying on a grass spot by the roadside. Here he sat down and made two whistles. They sounded wonderful to Frank’s ears.

As he shut the widow’s gate, Frank put his hand in his pocket to take out the dollar, so that he might have it ready to hand to her when she came to the door. It was not there. Thinking he had felt in the wrong pocket, he put his hand in the other, fully expecting to feel the dollar between his fingers. It was not there.

Frank felt alarmed. Could he have lost it? He searched carefully in every pocket, but the dollar was lost. He turned around and went slowly back, looking carefully along the road for the lost dollar. He searched around the log, in the willow grove, by the roadside, every step of the way, but no dollar was to be seen. He went over the road again with no better success. At length he sat down upon the log to consider what he should do.

The dollar was lost, there was no doubt of that. His father had told him to be careful, and he had not been. Now what should he do? His first thought was to go back to the store and tell his father all about it. This would be the right way; but he disliked to go, for he knew his father would blame him for his carelessness.

Frank decided he would not go to his father then. He would go and play with the boys awhile. Perhaps his father would never know. At any rate he would not tell him at once. So he got up from the log and walked slowly toward the schoolhouse playground. Soon he was playing with the boys.

In the evening Frank went home and sat down at the supper table with the family. Soon after the blessing had been said, while his brothers and sisters were talking with each other about what they had been doing through the day, Father turned to him and said: “Oh, Frank, did you carry the dollar to Mrs. Boardman?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Frank promptly.

The question was asked so suddenly that he had no time to make up his mind what to answer. He felt less like telling the truth than he had at first. It seemed too hard. He thought to take the easier way by answering “Yes.” The easier way! Poor boy, he had not learned yet that it was the hard way.

Soon after supper Frank went upstairs to bed. When he said his evening prayer he did not feel that God was listening to him, and he passed a restless night.

In the morning he woke up to find the sun shining into his room. Leaping out of bed in high spirits, he began to dress. Suddenly he thought of the lost dollar, and this blotted out all his happy feelings.

The day went by slowly. Frank was troubled by the fear that Father would find out about the lost dollar; yet he found it harder every hour to make up his mind to tell what had happened.

In the evening Frank could endure it no longer. The easy way had indeed become the hard way. While sitting in the front room he made up his mind to go and tell the matter. He started toward the study, where his father was. Every step in the right direction gave him new strength. He opened the study door and came to the table where his father sat writing.

“Well, Frank,” Father said kindly, “what is it?”

“Oh, Father,” said the boy, but he could not go on. He bowed his head upon the table and sobbed.

In a few minutes Frank raised his head, and began again: “I want to tell you Father”—but it was too much.

“Wait a minute, Frank. Let me tell you first,” said Father. “You want to tell me that you did not carry the dollar to Mrs. Boardman, that you lost it on the way, that last night you told a lie about it, and you felt wretched all the time. You wanted to tell me, but you did not dare. Is that it?”

“Yes, sir,” sobbed Frank.

“You wanted to take a way easier than the right way, yet you have found it a great deal harder.”

Frank knew that was true. He saw that he might have spared himself a great deal of uneasiness and sorrow by choosing the right way.

To help Frank remember, it was decided he should earn a dollar as soon as he could and take it to Mrs. Boardman. Frank set about earning his dollar, and before vacation was over, he carried it with a light heart to Mrs. Boardman.

The strangest part of the whole matter was that while Frank was returning from Mrs. Boardman’s his shoe struck something hard. He looked down and saw the dollar he had lost!