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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 65: LX. THE NICKEL THAT BURNED IN FRANK’S POCKET.
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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.

LX.
THE NICKEL THAT BURNED IN FRANK’S POCKET.

Deacon Hepworth kept a little fish market.

“Do you want a boy to help you?” asked Frank Shaw one day.

“Can you give good weight to my customers and take good care of my pennies?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Frank.

Forthwith he took his place in the little store, weighed the fish and kept the room in order.

“A whole day for fun, fireworks and noise to-morrow!” exclaimed Frank, as he buttoned his white apron about him the day before the Fourth of July. A great trout was thrown down on the counter by Ned Tant, one of Frank’s playmates.

A Quarter, Ma’am.

“Here’s a royal trout, Frank. I caught it myself. You may have it for ten cents. Just hand over the money, for I’m in a hurry to buy my firecrackers,” said Ned hurriedly.

The deacon was out, but Frank had made purchases for him before, so the dime spun across to Ned, who was off like a shot. Just then Mrs. Sinclair appeared.

“I want a nice trout for my dinner to-morrow. This one will do; how much is it?” she asked as she carefully examined it.

“A quarter, ma’am,” and the fish was transferred to the lady’s basket and the silver piece to the money drawer.

But here Frank paused.

He thought to himself: “Ten cents was very cheap for that fish. If I tell the deacon it cost fifteen cents he’ll be satisfied, and I shall have five cents to invest in firecrackers.”

The deacon was pleased with Frank’s bargain, and when the market was closed each went his way for the night.

But the nickel buried in Frank’s pocket burned like a coal. He could eat no supper, and was cross and unhappy. At last he could stand it no longer, but, walking rapidly, tapped at the door of Deacon Hepworth’s cottage.

The old man was seated at a table, reading the Bible. Frank’s heart almost failed him, but he told the story and with tears of sorrow laid the coin in the deacon’s hand.

Turning over the leaves of the Bible, the old man read:

“He that covereth his sins shall not prosper, but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy.”

“You have forgiveness, Frank,” he said. “Now go home and confess to the Lord, and remember you must forsake as well as confess. Here, you may keep this coin as long as you live to remind you of your first temptation.”