“Are you going to sell that little wooden horse, whose mechanism is so ingenious?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Maurice, crying while he spoke.
“You seem very sorry to part with it. Tell me exactly why you sell it.”
Maurice pointed to the poor family, sitting there against the railing of the garden; and related all that had passed.
“You are a good boy,” said the gentleman; “listen now: I also wish to help this poor woman. Will you let me join you in the good work? That will not make your merit the less.”
“Oh, I don’t think about my own merit,” said Maurice.
“You are right,” replied the gentleman; “charity does not think of self. I mean to say, if you would practise charity in a true and holy spirit, you must forget yourself completely. You are too young, perhaps, to understand all that; but if you remember my words, they will grow up in your mind as a young tree grows in a good soil. Now, as to helping this poor woman and her children: she wants two hundred francs, you say. I will give her half that sum from myself; and I will lend you another hundred francs, that you may give them to her on your own part. Then instead of selling your clever little horse to this young lady, you shall leave it with me for a time as security for the repayment of the hundred francs. Your mamma gives you money sometimes, I daresay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well; put aside all the money she gives you till you have got together a hundred francs. It won’t take you long. You must do without sugar-plums, and cakes, and many a toy that you would otherwise buy. In less than six months I have no doubt you will have the money. Let me see; this is the twelfth of February: we will fix the twelfth of August as the day when you will bring me the hundred francs and take back your horse.”
“But suppose I have not the money by that time?” urged Maurice.