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.”