Free The 13th Resolution by Charles M. Sheldon Page B

notice?” asked Richard.
    “Well, no. Let us have it so we can go on,” replied Mr. Blaisdell good-naturedly.
    “A man was writing a letter to an old chum, and he said in the letter: ‘I tell you, George, I have come to the conclusion that we are hurrying too much. It is just rush, rush, rush, all day long. I have determined to take things easier. I am going to walk slower, talk slower, and eat slower and do everything slower. Yours in haste, Bill.’”
    “You made that up,” broke in Mr. Blaisdell.
    “No, Father, I believe I heard one of—”
    “Never mind how you explain it. I must hurry on. Fourth: next Sunday this whole family is going to start to go to church and keep it up every Sunday.”
    Dead silence reigned around the table, caused by the fact that the children, although members of the church, had not been going to the morning service. They all went to Sunday school but did not stay for the preaching service. This is a universal habit, by the way, of most families in the church to which the Blaisdells belong.
    The silence was broken by Robert saying with some stiffness, the nearest symptom he ever expressed to any opposition to his father’s wishes, “I thought, Dad, these were your New Year’s resolutions, but you seem to be making them for the whole family.”
    “We won’t discuss it here,” replied his father quietly. “I want you all to think it over carefully. I have come to the conclusion that inasmuch as we are members of the church, we ought to support its services. It is time we reformed our habits in this respect. Thresh it out in your mutual council,” he said, referring to a habit the children had of discussing together any matters of dispute. Mr. Blaisdell went on with a cheerful attitude, although a shade of anxiety had crossed his wife’s face after hearing resolution number four.
    “Fifth, I am going to stop swearing.”
    The four Rs stared, and Mrs. Blaisdell exclaimed, “Why, James Blaisdell, you never swore in your life! What do you mean?”
    “Yes, I do. I swear a good many times when I lose my temper. I say, ‘By thunder,’ and ‘Confound it!’”
    Robert grinned at his father. “Do you call that swearing? You ought to hear some of our fellows.”
    “I call it swearing because I mean more than I say!” maintained the head of the house stoutly. “And I am going to quit it. I think it is a poor habit and shows a great lack of self-control.”
    “What will you use in the place of these words when you are excited?” asked Mrs. Blaisdell, as her eyes twinkled with amusement.
    “Well, I don’t know yet, but I’ll find something. Number six: I am going to spend so much for luxuries, and whenever I do, I am going to put as much money into the church contribution box as I spend.”
    Mr. Blaisdell looked around the table, and his eye stopped at Richard. “By the way, Richard, how much do you spend foolishly every month?”
    “What has that to do with your resolutions, Father?”
    “It has more than you think, as you will find out pretty soon when we come to another resolution. But how much do you spend out of your allowance?”
    Richard hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know exactly.”
    “Do you mean that you do not keep any account of your expenditures?” asked his father with unaccustomed sternness. “Do you spend two or three dollars a week?”
    Rachel snickered. “Two or three dollars? It’s nearer five.”
    Richard did not deny it and looked very much embarrassed.
    “And how much do you give to the church budget?” asked his father.
    “Twenty-five cents a week.”
    “Doesn’t look very good to me,” replied his father thoughtfully. “Looks like robbing Peter to pay Judas Iscariot, but we shall take that up later.
    “Number seven: I am going to double my church pledge on the annual budget this year. The rest of you can think it over.
    “Number eight: I am going to close the store every Saturday afternoon.”
    Mrs. Blaisdell stared. “Why, Jim Blaisdell,