the use of carrying on so? To be sure I am
your son, in flesh and blood, and just the same as ever, only changed
a little for the better. But where's the use in crying? I reckon I am
not going to die, that you should take on after this fashion."

Here he rudely shook off her embrace, and reseated himself, while a
sharp pang, such as she had not known since the years of his boyhood
and unfeeling transgressions, struck deeply into her heart as his
light mocking tones smote upon her ear, and sinking into a chair, she
gave vent to her feelings in a gush of tears.

Who, at that moment, to have looked upon the dark countenance of David
White, and to have witnessed his heartless and unmanly actions, would
have recognized the cradle-joy of his mother's early widow-hood--the
babe that smiled so sweetly upon the beholder--the little prattler for
whom she had pictured out such a bright and glorious future. She had
loved him--still loved him with all the devotedness and dewy freshness
of life's morning hours; she had cherished and watched over him with
the tenderest care and most affectionate solicitude, and now, when the
fountains of deep-toned feeling and sympathetic emotion should have
sent up their gushing libations, and she should have been reaping the
rich benefits of her manifold attentions, the son, so fondly
cherished, and so dearly loved, turns, like the frozen serpent that
the shepherd warmed in his own bosom, to sting his benefactor.

But if we look back to this man's infancy, it will be found that much
of this harvest was unconsciously sown by the mother. Domestic
education exerts a great power in forming the manners and regulating
the conduct which is to guide the future man; and as the system of
Widow White had been injudicious, though she discovered her error at
the last, it was too late for reform--her son was ruined, and an
ingratitude engendered which would tinge the whole stream of her
future life with bitterness. The mother is almost always the arbiter
of her child's destiny; and if she misguide the bark of his life so
that it finally anchors in a gulf of base and stormy passions, can it
be wondered that his sympathies should be blunted, and the
manifestations of his mind vile and ignoble?

"There, now! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," again spoke the
son, first breaking the silence which had existed for several minutes,
and the mother looked up half smilingly through her tears as these
gentle words ca