 | Mark Twain's sketches |  |
12. MISPLACED CONFIDENCE.
“Just about the close of that long, hard
winter,” said the Sunday-school superintendent,
“as I was wending toward my
duties one brilliant Sabbath morning, I
glanced down toward the levee, and there
lay the City of Hartford steamer! No
mistake about it; there she was, puffing
and panting after her long pilgrimage
through the ice. A glad sight? Well, I
should say so! And then came a pang
right away because I should have to
instruct empty benches, sure; the youngsters
would all be off welcoming the first
steamboat of the season. You can imagine
how surprised I was when I opened
the door and saw the benches full. My
gratitude was free, large, and sincere. I
resolved that they should not find me
unappreciative.
“I said, `Boys, you cannot think how
proud it makes me to see you here, nor
what renewed assurance it gives me of
your affection. I confess that I said to
myself, as I came along and saw the City
of Hartford was in—'
“ `No! but is she though?'
“And, as quick as any flash of lightning,
I stood in the presence of empty
benches! I had brought them the news
myself.”
| Mark Twain's sketches | |