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"Upon my word," said Tommy, when he had finished, "I am vastly pleased with this story, and I think that it may very likely be true, for I have myself observed that everything seems to love little Harry here, merely because he is good-natured to it. I was much surprised to see the great dog the other day, which I have never dared to touch for fear of being bitten, fawning upon him and licking him all over; it put me in mind of the story of Androcles and the lion." "That dog," said Mr Barlow, "will be equally fond of you, if you are kind to him; for nothing equals the sagacity and grat.i.tude of a dog. But since you have read a story about a good-natured boy, Harry shall read you another concerning a boy of a contrary disposition."
Harry read the following story of
"THE ILL-NATURED BOY."
"There was once a little boy who was so unfortunate as to have a very bad man for his father, who was always surly and ill-tempered, and never gave his children either good instructions or good example; in consequence of which this little boy, who might otherwise have been happier and better, became ill-natured, quarrelsome, and disagreeable to everybody. He very often was severely beaten for his impertinence by boys that were bigger than himself, and sometimes by boys that were less; for, though he was very abusive and quarrelsome, he did not much like fighting, and generally trusted more to his heels than his courage, when he had engaged himself in a quarrel. This little boy had a cur-dog that was the exact image of himself; he was the most troublesome, surly creature imaginable,--always barking at the heels of every horse he came near, and worrying every sheep he could meet with--for which reason both the dog and the boy were disliked by all the neighbourhood.
"One morning his father got up early to go to the alehouse, where he intended to stay till night, as it was a holiday; but before he went out he gave his son some bread and cold meat and sixpence, and told him he might go and divert himself as he would the whole day. The little boy was much pleased with this liberty; and, as it was a very fine morning, he called his dog Tiger to follow him, and began his walk.
"He had not proceeded far before he met a little boy that was driving a flock of sheep towards a gate that he wanted them to enter. 'Pray, master,' said the little boy, 'stand still and keep your dog close to you, for fear you frighten my sheep.' 'Oh yes, to be sure!' answered the ill-natured boy, 'I am to wait here all the morning till you and your sheep have pa.s.sed, I suppose! Here, Tiger, seize them, boy!' Tiger at this sprang forth into the middle of the flock, barking and biting on every side, and the sheep, in a general consternation, hurried each a separate way. Tiger seemed to enjoy this sport equally with his master; but in the midst of his triumph he happened unguardedly to attack an old ram that had more courage than the rest of the flock; he, instead of running away, faced about, and aimed a blow with his forehead at his enemy, with so much force and dexterity, that he knocked Tiger over and over, and, b.u.t.ting him several times while he was down, obliged him to limp howling away.
"The ill-natured little boy, who was not capable of loving anything, had been much diverted with the trepidation of the sheep; but now he laughed heartily at the misfortune of his dog; and he would have laughed much longer, had not the other little boy, provoked beyond his patience at this treatment thrown a stone at him, which hit him full upon the temples, and almost knocked him down. He immediately began to cry, in concert with his dog, and perceiving a man coming towards them, who he fancied might be the owner of the sheep, he thought it most prudent to escape as speedily as possible.
"But he had scarcely recovered from the smart which the blow had occasioned, before his former mischievous disposition returned, which he determined to gratify to the utmost. He had not gone far before he saw a little girl standing by a stile with a large pot of milk at her feet.
'Pray,' said the little girl, 'help me up with this pot of milk; my mother sent me out to fetch it this morning, and I have brought it above a mile upon my head; but I am so tired that I have been obliged to stop at this stile to rest me; and if I don't return home presently we shall have no pudding to-day, and besides my mother will be very angry with me.' 'What,' said the boy, 'you are to have a pudding to-day, are you, miss?' 'Yes,' said the girl, 'and a fine piece of roast-beef; for there's uncle Will, and uncle John, and grandfather, and all my cousins, to dine with us, and we shall be very merry in the evening, I can a.s.sure you; so pray help me up as speedily as possible.' 'That I will, miss,'
said the boy; and, taking up the jug, he pretended to fix it upon her head; but as she had hold of it, he gave it a little push, as if he had stumbled, and overturned it upon her. The little girl began to cry violently, but the mischievous boy ran away laughing heartily, and saying, 'Good-by, little miss; give my humble service to uncle Will, and grandfather, and the dear little cousins.'
"This prank encouraged him very much; for he thought he had now certainly escaped without any bad consequences; so he went on applauding his own ingenuity, and came to a green where several little boys were at play. He desired leave to play with them, which they allowed him to do.
But he could not be contented long without exerting his evil disposition; so taking an opportunity when it was his turn to fling the ball, instead of flinging it the way he ought to have done, he threw it into a deep muddy ditch. The little boys ran in a great hurry to see what was become of it; and as they were standing together upon the brink, he gave the outermost boy a violent push against his neighbour; he, not being able to resist the violence, tumbled against another, by which means they were all soused into the ditch together. They soon scrambled out, although in a dirty plight, and were going to have punished him for his ill behaviour; but he patted Tiger upon the back, who began snarling and growling in such a manner as made them desist.
Thus this mischievous little boy escaped a second time with impunity.
"The next thing that he met with was a poor jacka.s.s, feeding very quietly in a ditch. The little boy, seeing that n.o.body was within sight, thought this was an opportunity of plaguing an animal that was not to be lost; so he went and cut a large bunch of thorns, which he contrived to fix upon the poor beast's tail, and then, setting Tiger at him, he was extremely diverted to see the fright and agony the creature was in. But it did not fare so well with Tiger, who, while he was baying and biting the animal's heels, received so severe a kick upon his forehead, as laid him dead upon the spot. The boy, who had no affection for his dog, left him with the greatest unconcern when he saw what had happened, and, finding himself hungry, sat down by the wayside to eat his dinner.
"He had not been long there before a poor blind man came groping his way out with a couple of sticks. 'Good morning to you, gaffer,' said the boy; 'pray, did you see a little girl come this road, with a basket of eggs upon her head, dressed in a green gown, with a straw hat upon her head?' 'G.o.d bless you, master,' said the beggar, 'I am so blind that I can see nothing; I have been blind these twenty years, and they call me poor old blind Richard.'
"Though this poor man was such an object of charity and compa.s.sion, yet the little boy determined, as usual, to play him some trick; and, as he was a great liar and deceiver, he spoke to him thus: 'Poor old Richard, I am heartily sorry for you with all my heart; I am just eating my breakfast, and if you will sit down by me I will give you part and feed you myself.' 'Thank you with all my heart,' said the poor man; 'and if you will give me your hand, I will sit by you with great pleasure, my dear, good little master!' The little boy then gave him his hand, and, pretending to direct him, guided him to sit down in a large heap of wet dung that lay by the road-side. 'There,' said he, 'now you are nicely seated, and I will feed you.' So, taking a little in his fingers, he was going to put it into the blind man's mouth; but the man, who now perceived the trick that had been played him, made a sudden snap at his fingers, and, getting them between his teeth, bit them so severely that the wicked boy roared out for mercy, and promised never more to be guilty of such wickedness. At last the blind man, after he had put him to very severe pain, consented to let him go, saying as he went, 'Are you not ashamed, you little scoundrel, to attempt to do hurt to those who have never injured you, and to want to add to the sufferings of those who are already sufficiently miserable? Although you escape now, be a.s.sured that, if you do not repent and mend your manners, you will meet with a severe punishment for your bad behaviour.'
"One would think that this punishment should have cured him entirely of his mischievous disposition; but, unfortunately, nothing is so difficult to overcome as bad habits that have been long indulged. He had not gone far before he saw a lame beggar, that just made a s.h.i.+ft to support himself by means of a couple of sticks. The beggar asked him to give him something, and the little mischievous boy, pulling out his sixpence, threw it down just before him, as if he intended to make him a present of it; but, while the poor man was stooping with difficulty to pick it up, this wicked little boy knocked the stick away, by which means the beggar fell down upon his face; and then, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the sixpence, the boy ran away, laughing very heartily at the accident.
"This was the last trick this ungracious boy had it in his power to play; for, seeing two men come up to the beggar, and enter into discourse with him, he was afraid of being pursued, and therefore ran as fast as he was able over several fields. At last he came into a lane which led into a farmer's orchard, and as he was preparing to clamber over the fence, a large dog seized him by the leg and held him fast. He cried out in agony of terror, which brought the farmer out, who called the dog off, but seized him very roughly, saying, 'So, sir, you are caught at last, are you? You thought you might come day after day and steal my apples without detection; but it seems you are mistaken, and now you shall receive the punishment you have so long deserved.' The farmer then began to chastise him very severely with a whip he had in his hand, and the boy in vain protested he was innocent, and begged for mercy. At last the farmer asked him who he was, and where he lived; but when he heard his name he cried out, 'What! are you the little rascal that frightened my sheep this morning, by which means several of them are lost; and do you think to escape?' Saying this, he lashed him more severely than before, in spite of all his cries and protestations. At length, thinking he had punished him enough, he turned him out of the orchard, bade him go home, and frighten sheep again if he liked the consequences.
"The little boy slunk away, crying very bitterly (for he had been very severely beaten), and now began to find that no one can long hurt others with impunity; so he determined to go quietly home, and behave better for the future.
"But his sufferings were not yet at an end; for as he jumped down from a stile, he felt himself very roughly seized, and, looking up, found that he was in the power of the lame beggar whom he had thrown upon his face.
It was in vain that he now cried, entreated, and begged pardon; the man, who had been much hurt by his fall, thrashed him very severely with his stick, before he would part with him. He now again went on, crying and roaring with pain, but at least expected to escape without further damage. But here he was mistaken; for as he was walking slowly through a lane, just as he turned a corner, he found himself in the middle of the very troop of boys that he had used so ill in the morning. They all set up a shout as soon as they saw their enemy in their power without his dog, and began persecuting him a thousand various ways. Some pulled him by the hair, others pinched him; some whipped his legs with their handkerchiefs, while others covered him with handfuls of dirt. In vain did he attempt to escape; they were still at his heels, and, surrounding him on every side, continued their persecutions. At length, while he was in this disagreeable situation, he happened to come up to the same jacka.s.s he had seen in the morning, and, making a sudden spring, jumped upon his back, hoping by these means to escape. The boys immediately renewed their shouts, and the a.s.s, who was frightened at the noise, began galloping with all his might, and presently bore him from the reach of his enemies. But he had but little reason to rejoice at this escape, for he found it impossible to stop the animal, and was every instant afraid of being thrown of and dashed upon the ground. After he had been thus hurried along a considerable time, the a.s.s on a sudden stopped short at the door of a cottage, and began kicking and prancing with so much fury that the little boy was presently thrown to the ground, and broke his leg in the fall. His cries immediately brought the family out, among whom was the very little girl he had used so ill in the morning. But she with the greatest good-nature, seeing him in such a pitiable situation, a.s.sisted in bringing him in, and laying him upon the bed. There this unfortunate boy had leisure to recollect himself, and reflect upon his own bad behaviour, which in one day's time had exposed him to such a variety of misfortunes; and he determined with great sincerity, that, if ever he recovered from his present accident, he would be as careful to take every opportunity of doing good, as he had before been to commit every species of mischief."
When the story was ended, Tommy said it was very surprising to see how differently the two little boys fared. The one little boy was good-natured, and therefore everything he met became his friend and a.s.sisted him in return; the other, who was ill-natured, made everything his enemy, and therefore he met with nothing but misfortunes and vexations, and n.o.body seemed to feel any compa.s.sion for him, excepting the poor little girl that a.s.sisted him at last, which was very kind indeed of her, considering how ill she had been used.
"That is very true, indeed," said Mr Barlow; "n.o.body is loved in this world unless he loves others and does good to them; and n.o.body can tell but one time or other he may want the a.s.sistance of the meanest and lowest; therefore, every sensible man will behave well to everything around him; he will behave well, because it is his duty to do it, because every benevolent person feels the greatest pleasure in doing good, and even because it is his own interest to make as many friends as possible. No one can tell, however secure his present situation may appear, how soon it may alter, and he may have occasion for the compa.s.sion of those who are now infinitely below him. I could show you a story to that purpose, but you have read enough, and therefore you must now go out and use some exercise."
"Oh pray, sir," said Tommy, "do let me hear the story; I think I could now read for ever without being tired." "No," said Mr Barlow; "everything has its turn; to-morrow you shall read, but now we must work in the garden." "Then pray, sir," said Tommy, "may I ask a favour of you?" "Surely," answered Mr Barlow; "if it is proper for you to have, there is nothing can give me a greater pleasure than to grant it." "Why, then," said Tommy, "I have been thinking that a man should know how to do everything in the world." _Mr B._--Very right; the more knowledge he acquires the better. _T._--And therefore Harry and I are going to build a house. _Mr B._--To build a house! Well, and have you laid in a sufficient quant.i.ty of brick and mortar? "No, no," said Tommy, smiling; "Harry and I can build houses without brick and mortar." _Mr B._--What are they to be made of, then--cards? "Dear sir," answered Tommy, "do you think we are such little children as to want card-houses? No; we are going to build real houses, fit for people to live in. And then, you know, if ever we should be thrown upon a desert coast, as the poor men were, we shall be able to supply ourselves with necessaries till some s.h.i.+p comes to take us away." _Mr B._--And if no s.h.i.+p should come, what then? _T._--Why, then, we must stay there all our lives, I am afraid.
_Mr B._--If you wish to prepare yourselves against the event, you are much in the right, for n.o.body knows what may happen to him in this world. What is it then you want, to make your house? _T._--The first thing we want, sir, is wood and a hatchet. _Mr B._--Wood you shall have in plenty; but did you ever use a hatchet? _T._--No, sir. _Mr B._--Then I am afraid to let you have one, because it is a very dangerous kind of tool; and if you are not expert in the use of it you may wound yourself severely. But if you will let me know what you want, I, who am more strong and expert, will take the hatchet and cut down the wood for you.
"Thank you, sir," said Tommy; "you are very good to me, indeed." And away Harry and he ran to the copse at the bottom of the garden.
Mr Barlow then went to work, and presently, by Harry's direction, cut down several poles about as thick as a man's wrist, and about eight feet long; these he sharpened at the end, in order to run into the ground; and so eager were the two little boys at the business, that, in a very short time, they had transported them all to the bottom of the garden; and Tommy entirely forgot he was a gentleman, and worked with the greatest eagerness.
"Now," said Mr Barlow, "where will you fix your house?" "Here, I think,"
answered Tommy, "just at the bottom of this hill, because it will be warm and sheltered."
So Harry took the stakes and began to thrust them into the ground at about the distance of a foot, and in this manner he enclosed a piece of ground, which was about ten feet long and eight feet wide--leaving an opening in the middle, of three feet wide, for a door. After this was done they gathered up the brushwood that was cut off, and by Harry's direction they interwove it between the poles in such a manner as to form a compact kind of fence. This labour, as may be imagined, took them up several days; however, they worked at it very hard every day, and every day the work advanced, which filled Tommy's heart with so much pleasure that he thought himself the happiest little boy in the universe.
But this employment did not make Tommy unmindful of the story which Mr Barlow had promised him; it was to this purport:--
"THE STORY OF THE GRATEFUL TURK."
"It is too much to be lamented that different nations frequently make b.l.o.o.d.y wars with each other; and when they take any of their enemies prisoners, instead of using them well, and restoring them to liberty, they confine them in prisons, or sell them as slaves. The enmity that there is often between many of the Italian states (particularly the Venetians) and the Turks is sufficiently known.
"It once happened that a Venetian s.h.i.+p had taken many of the Turks prisoners, and according to the barbarous customs I have mentioned, these unhappy men had been sold to different persons in the city. By accident, one of the slaves lived opposite to the house of a rich Venetian, who had an only son of about the age of twelve years. It happened that this little boy used frequently to stop as he pa.s.sed near Hamet (for that was the name of the slave), and gaze at him very attentively. Hamet, who remarked in the face of the child the appearance of good-nature and compa.s.sion, used always to salute him with the greatest courtesy, and testified the greatest pleasure in his company.
At length the little boy took such a fancy to the slave that he used to visit him several times in the day, and brought him such little presents as he had it in his power to make, and which he thought would be of use to his friend.
"But though Hamet seemed always to take the greatest delight in the innocent caresses of his little friend, yet the child could not help remarking that Hamet was frequently extremely sorrowful, and he often surprised him on a sudden when tears were trickling down his face, although he did his utmost to conceal them. The little boy was at length so much affected with the repet.i.tion of this sight that he spoke of it to his father, and begged him, if he had it in his power, to make poor Hamet happy. The father, who was extremely fond of his son, and besides had observed that he seldom requested anything which was not generous and humane, determined to see the Turk himself and talk to him.
"Accordingly he went to him the next day, and, observing him for some time in silence, was struck with the extraordinary appearance of mildness and honesty which his countenance discovered. At length he said to him, 'Are you that Hamet of whom my son is so fond, and of whose gentleness and courtesy I have so often heard him talk?' 'Yes,' said the Turk, 'I am that unfortunate Hamet, who have now been for three years a captive; during that s.p.a.ce of time your son (if you are his father) is the only human being that seems to have felt any compa.s.sion for my sufferings; therefore, I must confess, he is the only object to which I am attached in this barbarous country; and night and morning I pray that Power, who is equally the G.o.d of Turks and Christians, to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer.'
"'Indeed, Hamet,' said the merchant, 'he is much obliged to you, although, from his present circ.u.mstances, he does not appear much exposed to danger. But tell me, for I wish to do you good, in what can I a.s.sist you? for my son informs me that you are the prey of continual regret and sorrow.'
"'Is it wonderful,' answered the Turk, with a glow of generous indignation that suddenly animated his countenance, 'is it wonderful that I should pine in silence, and mourn my fate, who am bereft of the first and n.o.blest present of nature--my liberty?' 'And yet,' answered the Venetian, 'how many thousands of our nation do you retain in fetters?'
"'I am not answerable,' said the Turk, 'for the cruelty of my countrymen, more than you are for the barbarity of yours. But as to myself, I have never practised the inhuman custom of enslaving my fellow creatures; I have never spoiled the Venetian merchants of their property to increase my riches; I have always respected the rights of nature, and therefore it is the more severe.'----Here a tear started from his eye, and wetted his manly cheek; instantly however, he recollected himself, and folding his arm upon his bosom, and gently bowing his head, he added, 'G.o.d is good, and man must submit to his decrees.'
"The Venetian was affected with this appearance of manly fort.i.tude, and said, 'Hamet, I pity your sufferings, and may perhaps be able to relieve them. What would you do to regain your liberty?' 'What would I do!'
answered Hamet; 'by the eternal Majesty of Heaven, I would confront every pain and danger that can appal the heart of man!' 'Nay,' answered the merchant, 'you will not be exposed to a trial. The means of your deliverance are certain, provided your courage does not belie your appearance.' 'Name them! name them!' cried the impatient Hamet; 'place death before me in every horrid shape, and if I shrink----'
"'Patience,' answered the merchant, 'we shall be observed; but hear me attentively. I have in this city an inveterate foe, who has heaped upon me every injury which can most bitterly sting the heart of man. This man is brave as he is haughty; and I must confess that the dread of his strength and valour has. .h.i.therto deterred me from resenting his insults as they deserve. Now, Hamet, your look, your form, your words, convince me that you were born for manly daring. Take this dagger; as soon as the shades of night involve the city I will myself conduct you to the place where you may at once revenge your friend and regain your freedom.'
"At this proposal, scorn and shame flashed from the kindling eye of Hamet, and pa.s.sion for a considerable time deprived him of the power of utterance; at length he lifted his arm as high as his chains would permit, and cried, with an indignant tone, 'Mighty prophet! and are these the wretches to whom you permit your faithful votaries to be enslaved! Go, base Christian, and know that Hamet would not stoop to the vile trade of an a.s.sa.s.sin for all the wealth of Venice! no! not to purchase the freedom of all his race!'
"At these words the merchant, without seeming much abashed, told him he was sorry he had offended him; but that he thought freedom had been dearer to him than he found it was. 'However,' added he, as he turned his back, 'you will reflect upon my proposal, and perhaps by to-morrow you may change your mind.' Hamet disdained to answer; and the merchant went his way.
"The next day, however, he returned in company with his son, and mildly accosted Hamet thus: 'The abruptness of the proposal I yesterday made you might perhaps astonish you, but I am now come to discourse the matter more calmly with you, and I doubt not, when you have heard my reasons----'
"'Christian!' interrupted Hamet, with a severe but composed countenance, 'cease at length to insult the miserable with proposals more shocking than even these chains. If thy religion permit such acts as those, know that they are execrable and abominable to the soul of every Mohammedan; therefore, from this moment, let us break off all further intercourse and be strangers to each other.'
"'No,' answered the merchant, flinging himself into the arms of Hamet, 'let us from this moment be more closely linked than ever! Generous man, whose virtues may at once disarm and enlighten thy enemies! Fondness for my son first made me interested in thy fate; but from the moment that I saw thee yesterday I determined to set thee free; therefore, pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue, which has only raised thee higher in my esteem. Francisco has a soul which is as averse to deeds of treachery and blood as even Hamet himself. From this moment, generous man, thou art free; thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering the affection of this thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps hereafter, when thou seest an unhappy Christian groaning in Turkish fetters, thy generosity may make thee think of Venice.'
"It is impossible to describe the ecstasies or the grat.i.tude of Hamet at this unexpected deliverance; I will not, therefore, attempt to repeat what he said to his benefactors; I will only add that he was that day set free, and Francisco embarked him on board a s.h.i.+p which was going to one of the Grecian islands, took leave of him with the greatest tenderness, and forced him to accept a purse of gold to pay his expenses. Nor was it without the greatest regret that Hamet parted from his young friend, whose disinterested kindness had thus procured his freedom; he embraced him with an agony of tenderness, wept over him at parting, and prayed for every blessing upon his head.
"About six months after this transaction a sudden fire burst forth in the house of this generous merchant. It was early in the morning, when sleep is the most profound, and none of the family perceived it till almost the whole building was involved in flames. The frightened servants had just time to waken the merchant and hurry him down stairs, and the instant he was down, the staircase itself gave way and sunk with a horrid crash into the midst of the fire.
"But if Francisco congratulated himself for an instant upon his escape, it was only to resign himself immediately after to the most deep despair, when he found, upon inquiry, that his son, who slept in an upper apartment, had been neglected in the general tumult, and was yet amidst the flames. No words can describe the father's agony; he would have rushed headlong into the fire, but was restrained by his servants; he then raved in an agony of grief, and offered half his fortune to the intrepid man who would risk his life to save his child. As Francisco was known to be immensely rich, several ladders were in an instant raised, and several daring spirits, incited by the vast reward, attempted the adventure. The violence of the flames, however, which burst forth at every window, together with the ruins that fell on every side, drove them all back; and the unfortunate youth, who now appeared upon the battlements, stretching out his arms and imploring aid, seemed to be destined to certain destruction.
"The unhappy father now lost all perception, and sunk down in a state of insensibility, when, in this dreadful moment of general suspense and agony, a man rushed through the opening crowd, mounted the tallest of the ladders with an intrepidity that showed he was resolved to succeed or perish, and instantly disappeared. A sudden gust of smoke and flame burst forth immediately after, which made the people imagine he was lost; when, on a sudden, they beheld him emerge again with the child in his arms, and descend the ladder without any material damage. A universal shout of applause now resounded to the skies; but what words can give an adequate idea of the father's feelings, when, on recovering his senses, he found his darling miraculously preserved, and safe within his arms?
"After the first effusions of his tenderness were over, he asked for his deliverer, and was shown a man of a n.o.ble stature, but dressed in mean attire, and his features were so begrimed with smoke and filth that it was impossible to distinguish them. Francisco, however, accosted him with courtesy, and, presenting him with a purse of gold, begged he would accept of that for the present, and that the next day he should receive to the utmost of his promised reward. 'No, generous merchant,' answered the stranger, 'I do not sell my blood.'
"'Gracious heavens!' cried the merchant, 'sure I should know that voice?--It is----' 'Yes,' exclaimed the son, throwing himself into the arms of his deliverer, 'it is my Hamet!'