Perhaps you think because Knud loved to pray that he didn't love to play. Not at all. You didn't know that good boys enjoy play much better than bad ones, did you? Well, they do; because their consciences are not troubling them all the while, as those of bad boys are.
Yes, Knud loved to play; but he could never play with bad boys, or help them to do wrong. And he wasn't a coward, either, as you will see. He spoke right up, and told them kindly what he thought, and begged them not to do evil, either.
One day he was walking peaceably along, thinking happy thoughts, when a party of bad boys came up to him, saying: "Knud, we know where there is some splendid fruit, and we want some, and what is more, we are determined to have some; and we want you to go with us and help us to get it."
"What, steal?" said Knud; fixing his clear, pure eyes on the naughty boys. "Steal! I would not do it for all the world."
"But you shall," said a great, strong boy, bigger than Knud.
"You shall?" echoed all the other boys, "or, we will drown you, Knud; yes, drown you in the river, just as sure as you stand there."
Knud looked at them. He saw that they were in earnest. They were stronger than he, and Knud knew that they could kill him, for there was nobody near to help him. His father and mother were not within call. Knud loved his father and mother; he thought this world a very fair and pleasant one, with its birds, its sunshine and its flowers; but, did he tremble and drop on his knees before those wicked boys and say, "Don't kill me—don't—I will do anything if you won't kill me!"
No, no; dear, noble, courageous little fellow! He stood up and faced them all, and said, "I cannot steal; no—not even if you kill me!"
You would have thought that they would have put their arms about his neck and begged his forgiveness, but they were little monsters. I cannot bear to think there are children with such bad hearts, because we look to see them innocent, and good, and pure. But you will weep when I tell you that they seized Knud and dragged him down to the river and plunged him in, and that the waters closed over the sunny little head, that is now wearing a martyr's crown.
You pity Knud? I pity his murderers.