The Two Friends.
There were once two little boys, who lived near each other in a very pleasant village, near the new forest in Hampshire, England. The name of one was John, and that of the other Paul.
Paul’s father lived in a large house, and kept horses, and servants, and a coach; had a nice lawn and garden, and was, what is called, a gentleman. Paul had a pony to ride on; he had also a great many playthings—tops, hoops, balls, a kite, a ship, and everything he could wish for. He had also fine clothes to wear, and nothing to do but to go to school.
John’s father was a poor man, for he had only a little farm to keep him; and John was forced to get up in the morning and look after the cows, feed the pigs, and do a great deal of work before he went to school.
Although John’s father was a poor man, he was determined to send his son to the best school in the parish: “for,” said he, “if my boy turns out a good lad he will be a comfort to me in my old age.”
When John first came to the school to which Paul went, the boys, who were dressed better than he was, all shunned him. They did not like his rough cord jacket, nor his thick hands and coarse shirt. One said, “he shall not sit by me;” and another said, “he shall not sit by me:” so when he went to a form to sit down, the boy who was on it slid himself to the other end.
Poor John did not know what this meant. At last, when he looked at his coarse clothes, and rough hands, and thick shoes, and compared them with those of his school-fellows, he said to himself, “It is because I am a poor boy:” and the tears came into his eyes.
Paul saw what was going on, and he felt for him, and could have cried too; so he went to the form on which the new scholar sat, and said, “Do not cry, little boy; I will come and sit by you: here, take this nice rosy apple: do take it; I do not want it! do, there is a dear little boy.”
This made John cry the more; but these were tears of joy, at having found some one to feel for him. He looked at Paul, and sobbed out, “No, no, I thank you.” Then Paul put his arm round his neck, and said, “I cannot bear to see you cry;” and kissed him on the cheek.
One of the boys called out, “Paul Jones is playing with apples;” and, in a minute, the usher came up, and, without making any inquiry, took the apple away, and gave Paul a cut with his cane. The apple he gave to the boy who told, for that was the rule of the school. Paul did not mind the cut, because he knew he was doing right.
Then the other boys laughed, and seemed quite pleased; some peeped from behind their slates, which they held before their faces, as if they were doing their sums; and one called out, in a whisper, “Who likes stick liquorice?”
John felt as if he could have torn the usher to pieces. “Oh!” said he to himself, “if I was a man, see if I would not give it you!” for he felt it cruel that Paul should be struck for being so kind to him.—(It was, however, wrong for him to wish to take revenge.)
From that time, John felt as if he would have died to serve Paul, and he never seemed so happy as when he could play with him, or sit by him at school.
Some time after this happened, Paul, who had about half a mile to walk to his home, through the green lanes, met some gipsies. There were three of them. One said to the other, “Bob, do you see that youngster? He has some good things about him.”
So they whispered a little together. At last, one came close to the little boy, and in a moment seized him round the waist, and put his hand over his mouth and nose, to prevent his calling out. They had made up their minds to steal him for his clothes.
So they put him in a sack, and tied a handkerchief over his mouth, and told him, if he made the least noise they would kill him.
After going for some miles, they went aside into a thick wood; and, when they reached the middle of it, they stripped poor little Paul quite naked, left him under a tree, and went off with all his clothes.
It was now very dark, and Paul was very much frightened. When the gipsies were gone, he cried out for help till he was hoarse, and could cry no longer. Being naked, he was very cold, and he crept under a bush, to screen himself from the wind.
When Paul’s father found he did not come home, he was very unhappy, and went to look for him; he sent servants, first one way, and then another, but no one could find him. His poor mother too was in great grief. Indeed both father and mother were nearly mad through losing him.
They dragged all the ponds in the neighborhood, went up and down the river, inquired of every one they met, but no one had seen him. John was called up, and said, the last time that he saw him was when he bade him good bye, at the corner of the lane.
The night began to close in, and it grew dark; Paul was not found, and poor John was as unhappy as any little boy could be; he went crying to bed, and when he knelt down to say his prayers, he prayed that Paul might come safe home again. He then went to bed, but he could not sleep for thinking of his kind school-fellow.
At last he leaped out of bed, and said, “I must go and see if he is found—I must go and seek him too.” So he slipped on his clothes, let himself out, and fastened the door after him.
At first he did not know what road to take, and he wandered up one lane, and down another. It was very dark at first, so that he could scarcely see where he went. At last the moon rose up, and seemed to cheer him in his search.
So on he walked, looking into every ditch and every pond, going through every little clump of bushes, but to no purpose—he could neither see nor hear anything of poor Paul.
It was about twelve o’clock at night, and he reached the church-yard. Some boys would have been afraid of going into the church-yard, for fear of ghosts. John said to himself, “If the living do not hurt me, I am sure the dead will not; besides, why should I be afraid, when I am doing what is right.”
John thought he would have one look in the church porch, so he drew towards it. The old arch seemed to frown on him; and it looked so dark within, it made him shudder, although he would not be afraid. He stepped boldly in, and cried, “Paul, are you there?”
Something started with a loud noise, and bounded by him, calling out, “Halloo! halloo!” and leaped to one of the tombstones. When John looked, he found it was a poor silly boy, whom they used to call Silly Mike; and whose part John had often taken, when other boys used to tease him.
“Ah! Mike,” said John, “don’t you know me?” The poor idiot knew him directly, and said, “He is in the sack! he is in the sack!—buried in the wood! Dong, dong—no bell go dong, dong.”
After some trouble, John made Mike understand that he was in search of Paul; who kept saying, he was in a sack in the wood: “Gipsy men,—sack in wood;—Mike frightened.”
At last John prevailed upon the poor fellow to show him to the wood; for the boy thought it might be that Paul had been taken away by somebody.
So they went on till they came to the wood. Mike led the way. At last they thought they heard a moan. John listened:—he heard it again; he then pushed through the brambles, tearing his face and hands at every step.
He called out, “Paul, Paul?” “Here, here,” was faintly said in reply. John rushed to the spot, and there lay the poor little boy, half dead.
John ran and helped him up; he then pulled off some of his own clothes, and put them upon him. Mike then lifted him on his back, and they soon got out of the wood.
Paul’s father had been out all night after him. His poor mother had also been searching every place she could think of, and had given him up for lost. They thought he had fallen into the river, and had been drowned.
When the poor lady saw her child borne towards her she could scarcely speak; and, when he leaped into her arms, she fell down in a fainting fit.
Paul’s father soon came home, and was rejoiced to see his son. He took John up also in his arms, and pressed him to his heart, for saving his son.
“I offered a hundred pounds reward to any one who would find him, dead or alive,” said his father. “You shall have the hundred pounds, my little fellow; nay, more, I will give you the best pony in my stable.”
“What for, sir?” said John.
“Why, for being such a brave little fellow.”
“No,” said John, “one good turn deserves another: you remember the nice rosy apple you gave me the first day I went to school, Paul.”
Nothing could prevail upon John, or his father, to take the reward: “To pay my son for doing his duty,” said the poor man, “would spoil all.”
From this time Paul and John were firm friends, and grew up together like brothers. At last Paul became a very rich man, and John was his steward.—English Periodical.