(1096)
FIDELITY REWARDED
An English farmer sent his hired boy to prevent a party of gentlemen from riding over his fields. The leader of the huntsmen peremptorily ordered him to open the gate. Upon his refusal, he said shortly, “Boy, do you know who I am? I am the Duke of Wellington, and I am not accustomed to disobedience. I command you to open this gate.” The boy lifted his cap and stood unawed before the “man of iron will,” and said in a firm voice, “I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey the orders of my employer, who tells me not to suffer any one to pass.” The Duke sat his horse for a moment, and then looking stedfastly at the boy, lifted his own hat and replied, “I honor the man or boy who is faithful to his duty, and who can neither be bribed or frightened into doing wrong.” He handed a bright new sovereign to the boy, who had done what Napoleon could not do; he had kept back the Duke of Wellington.—James T. White, “Character Lessons.”
(1097)
FIDELITY TO COUNTRY
In the fight of Trautenau (Austro-Prussian War, 1866), a young officer, hard hit, was lying on his back in a ditch, where he begged his foes to let him remain. Shortly after, he died. Then it was found that, even with his life ebbing fast, his body had served to protect the “bit of rag” which on the morning of that day had been the standard of the regiment. He had carefully folded it up, and laid down upon it to die. “One thing” was in that soldier’s heart—to save his country’s colors from capture and disgrace.
(1098)
FIDELITY TO DUTY
The wrecking of the Maine, happening at night, was so sudden and the convulsion was over in so brief a time, that a chance for a display of heroism seemed next to impossible; and yet, in the terror of that awful scene, every surviving man immediately recovered himself and stood to his discipline. Not one comrade was forsaken by another. The last seen of the lost lieutenant was at the turret under his charge, weak and staggering with his wounds. The marine on duty, true to his habit of service, rushed through a dark passage flooded with water, and reported that the ship had been blown up and was sinking. It did not occur to him to save himself until his duty was done. Officers and men, in danger of being swamped by the death struggle of the ship, rowed around her, trying to save life, and careless of their own. The captain was the last to leave the ship. No man sought his own safety at the sacrifice of another, nor sought it first.—Youth’s Companion.
(1099)