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Floyd's Flowers; Or, Duty and Beauty for Colored Children / Being One Hundred Short Stories Gleaned from the Storehouse of Human Knowledge and Experience: Simple, Amusing, Elevating cover

Floyd's Flowers; Or, Duty and Beauty for Colored Children / Being One Hundred Short Stories Gleaned from the Storehouse of Human Knowledge and Experience: Simple, Amusing, Elevating

Chapter 17: XII. A HUMBUG.
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About This Book

The collection gathers one hundred short, illustrated pieces aimed at young readers, particularly colored children, combining moral tales, practical advice, and brief biographical sketches. Stories and essays promote virtues such as honesty, industry, patience, self-help, and temperance while addressing common childhood behaviors and dilemmas. Interspersed are sketches of notable figures, humorous anecdotes, and guidance on reading, play, and conduct. Simple language and plentiful illustrations are intended to instruct and elevate while entertaining.

XII.
A HUMBUG.

A boy or girl who is pleasant and agreeable everywhere except at home is a humbug. I know one boy who is a good deal of a humbug, although you would never think so if you were to see him in any place outside of his home. He is good-looking, neat and tidy, and carries himself like a little man. I do not know of a boy who can tip his hat more gracefully to a lady, or who can say, “I beg your pardon,” or “excuse me, please,” more pleasantly than he can. But, for all that, he is a humbug.

I visited his home the other day. I heard his mother speak to him.

“Alexander,” she said.

“Well, what do you want?” he asked in a voice which plainly indicated his displeasure.

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Oh, you are always wanting me to do something just when I want to be doing something else,” said Alexander, and this time he was whining.

In departing on his errand Alexander accidentally ran against his little sister in the hall. I expected to hear him say, “I beg your pardon” in the pleasant way that I knew he could say it, but he snapped out instead:

“Oh, get out of the way, can’t you?”

“Oh, get out of the way, can’t you?”

When he returned from the postoffice Alexander’s mother was out in the yard trimming the flowers. While Alexander was reporting to her, she happened to drop her scissors. I expected to see her polite and dutiful son pick them up, as he was close by when the scissors fell; but the boy paid no attention to the scissors. When his mother said: “Please pick up my scissors for me, Alexander,” he said:

“What did you drop ’em for?”

I spent the best part of one whole day at Alexander’s home, and never once during all that day did I hear him speak politely to his mother or sisters, nor did he observe the ordinary rules of courtesy and good behavior in their presence. He was continually grumbling and complaining and finding fault. So I think I have a right to say that this boy is a good deal of a humbug. Any boy is a humbug who is polite and gracious to others and in every way discourteous and disagreeable at home. Don’t you think so, too?