<h2><SPAN name="THE_APRON-STRING" id="THE_APRON-STRING">THE APRON-STRING</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="upper">Once</span> upon a time a boy
played about the house,
running by his mother’s
side; and as he
was very little, his
mother tied him to the
string of her apron.</p>
<p>“Now,” she said, “when you stumble,
you can pull yourself up by the apron-string,
and so you will not fall.”</p>
<p>The boy did that, and all went well,
and the mother sang at her work.</p>
<p>By and by the boy grew so tall that his
head came above the window-sill; and
looking through the window, he saw far
away green trees waving, and a flowing
river that flashed in the sun, and rising
above all, blue peaks of mountains.</p>
<p>“Oh, mother,” he said; “untie the
apron-string and let me go!”</p>
<p>But the mother said, “Not yet, my
child! only yesterday you stumbled, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span>
would have fallen but for the apron-string.
Wait yet a little, till you are stronger.”</p>
<p>So the boy waited, and all went as before;
and the mother sang at her work.</p>
<p>But one day the boy found the door of
the house standing open, for it was spring
weather; and he stood on the threshold
and looked across the valley, and saw the
green trees waving, and the swift-flowing
river with the sun flashing on it, and the
blue mountains rising beyond; and this
time he heard the voice of the river calling,
and it said “Come!”</p>
<p>Then the boy started forward, and as
he started, the string of the apron broke.</p>
<p>“Oh! how weak my mother’s apron-string
is!” cried the boy; and he ran out
into the world, with the broken string
hanging beside him.</p>
<p>The mother gathered up the other end
of the string and put it in her bosom, and
went about her work again; but she sang
no more.</p>
<p>The boy ran on and on, rejoicing in his
freedom, and in the fresh air and the
morning sun. He crossed the valley, and
began to climb the foothills among which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span>
the river flowed swiftly, among rocks and
cliffs. Now it was easy climbing, and
again it was steep and craggy, but always
he looked upward at the blue peaks beyond,
and always the voice of the river
was in his ears, saying “Come!”</p>
<p>By and by he came to the brink of a
precipice, over which the river dashed in
a cataract, foaming and flashing, and sending
up clouds of silver spray. The spray
filled his eyes, so that he did not see his
footing clearly; he grew dizzy, stumbled,
and fell. But as he fell, something about
him caught on a point of rock at the
precipice-edge, and held him, so that he
hung dangling over the abyss; and when
he put up his hand to see what held him,
he found that it was the broken string of
the apron, which still hung by his side.</p>
<p>“Oh! how strong my mother’s apron-string
is!” said the boy: and he drew
himself up by it, and stood firm on his
feet, and went on climbing toward the
blue peaks of the mountains.</p>
<hr class="l1" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span></p>
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