'
Oh, that was quite right, my boy;' and though she unclasped the tight
arms, she drew him nestling into her bosom. 'Oh, Maurice, it has
been a terrible day! Does my little boy know how good the great God
has been to him, and how near he was never seeing mamma nor his
little sister again.'
Her great object was to make him thankful for his preservation, but
with a child, knowing nothing of death and heedless of fear, this was
very difficult. The rapid motion had been delightful excitement, or
if there had been any alarm, it was forgotten in the triumph. She
had to change her note, and represent how the poor horse might have
run into the river, or against a post! Maurice looked serious, and
then she came to the high moral tone--mounting strangers' horses
without leave--would papa, would Gilbert, think of such a thing? The
full lip was put out, as though under conviction, and he hung his
head. 'You wont do it again?' said she.
'No.'
She told him to say his prayers, guiding the confession and
thanksgiving that she feared he did not fully follow. As he rose up,
and saw the tears on her cheeks, he whispered, 'Mamma, did it make
you _so_?'
Cause and effect were a great puzzle to him, but that swoon was the
only thing that brought home to him that he had been guilty of
something enormous, and when she owned that his danger had been the
occasion, he stood and looked; then, standing bolt upright, with
clasped hands, and rosy feet pressed close together, he said, with a
long breath, 'I'll never get on Bamfylde again till I'm a big boy.
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