“I don’t see why you won’t let me play with Will Hunt,” pouted Walter Kirk. “I know he doesn’t always mind his mother, and smokes cigars, and once in a while swears just a little; but I have been brought up better than that — he won’t hurt me. I
should think you would trust me; I might do him some good.”
“Walter,” said his mother, “take this glass of pure water and put just one drop of ink in it.”
“O mother, who would have thought one drop would blacken the whole glass so!”
“Yes, it has changed the color of the whole; has it not? It is a shame to do that. Just put a drop of clear water in it to restore its purity,” said Mrs. Kirk.
“Why, mother, you are laughing at me. One drop, nor a dozen, nor fifty, won’t do that!”
“No, my son; and therefore I can’t allow one drop of Will Hunt’s evil nature to mingle with your careful training, many drops of which will make no impression on him.”