s emboldened
him, so that when he witnessed the distress of the boys, and saw them
try to conceal their emotions, his heart overflowed with pity for them,
and forced him to speak.

If we knew nothing more of Nat, this single act would lead us to
anticipate that, in later life, he would espouse the cause of the
oppressed in every land, and lift his voice and use his pen in defence
of human rights. At the age of ten or twelve years, John Howard, the
philanthropist, was not distinguished above the mass of boys around him,
except for the kindness of his heart, and boyish deeds of benevolence.
It was so with Wilberforce, whose efforts in the cause of British
emancipation gave him a world-wide fame. Every form of suffering,
misfortune, or injustice, touched his young heart, and called forth some
expression of tender interest. Carefully he would lay off his shoes at
the door of a sick chamber, and often divide a small coin, received as a
present, between his own wants and some poor child or man he chanced to
meet. And Buxton, whose self-sacrificing spirit in behalf of suffering
humanity is everywhere known, was early observed by his mother to
sympathize with the down-trodden and unfortunate, and she sought to
nurture and develop this feeling as a hopeful element of character.
When his fame was at its zenith, he wrote to his mother, "I constantly
feel, especially in action and exertion for others, the effects of
principles early implanted by you in my mind."

CHAPTER IV.

THE WILD CHERRIES

Nat, Charlie, and Frank planned a pleasure excursion one Saturday
afternoon, when cherries were in their prime. They did not even think of
the cherries, however, when they planned the trip. They thought more of
the fields and forests through which they proposed to go. But just at
this point one of their associates came up, and said,

"Let us go over beyond Capt. Pratt's and get some cherries. There is a
large tree there, and it hangs full."

"Yes; and have the owner in your hair," answered Charlie.

"No, no," replied John, the name of the boy who made the proposition.
"They are _wild_ cherries, a half a mile from any house, and of course
the owner considers them common property. I have got cherries there a
number of times."

"That is no evidence you didn't steal them," said Nat, half laughing.

"If you do no worse stealing than that," answered John, "you will not be
sent to jail this week."

It was therefore agreed, that