His Little Friend.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXV, Issue XV, 13 October 1900, Page 710

His Little Friend.

(By- Kathleen Al. Beauchamp, age 11 years, Wellington.) In a quiet little village in S there dwelt an aged couple, whose names were John and Alary Long. They’ had a small cottage standing far back from the road, with a large garden in front, both of which were scrupulously neat and tidy. Alaryhad married John when she was nineteen, and they’ had lived in the same little cottage ever since. Now she was past sixty, and he was seventythree. Mary took in sewing, while John sold fruit and vegetables to the villagers. It had been a hot day, and John had been picking fruit and digging up vegetables nearly all day. It was six o’clock now, and Alary had called him to tea. He put his tools in an out-house and went in. “Have you wiped your feet, John?” said a sharp voice, and Alary looking up from the toast she was buttering glanced at the boots in question. “No, Alary, I have not.” he answered meekly; but I’ll go and do so." He went to the mat, wiped his boots carefully, returned to the kitchen and sat down to tea. There was never any conversation between them at meals. John ate his tea. returned to his garden for half an hour, read the paper, and went to bed. “I am going with you to the village to-day. John,” said Alary, “as I have to take Airs Gage the dress she gave me to make.” At nine o’clock they started, John with his kit of fruit and vegetables, and Alary with her parcel. When theyreached the village they disposed of their goods, bought a few supplies, and wended their way home. They had nearly- reached there when theymet the village parson. “Oh, good morning.” he said pleasantly. “I have not seen you in church with your husband lately, Airs Long.”

“No, sir. Last Sabbath I had neuralgia so bad I couldn’t move, so told John to go.” “I am sorry- you had neuralgia,” the minister replied gravely: “but I hope I shall see you next Sunday. Goodday! Oh. by- the way, Air Long, could you sunply me with fruit and vegetables?”

“I should be only too pleased sir,” John answered. “Very well; come on Mondays and Thursdays.”

And they went on. Next Alonday John set out with the best of his fruit and vegetables for the minister. He sold his things and was just out of the gate when he heard a noise as though someone was sobbing. John, though he did not look it, was veryfond of children. On looking back he beheld a little boy sobbing piteously.

"What is the matter, my little man,” said John. The child lifted a tear-stained face to his. "Oh, please sir,” he said, “mother's ill, and we hasent got noting to eat.”

John remembered that Mary had gone to the village to spend the day with some of her friends, so he said kindly: "Come along with me, and we’ll see what we can do.”

The child ran forward, and clasping his tiny hand in John’s big one he said: "I fink yon’s very kind. My name’s Bobbie: what’s yours?” “My name is Mr Long,” John answered.

After that they trudged along quickly, the child amusing John with his prattle. They reached the cottage, got some provisions, and went to Bobbie’s home, which was a miserable enough abode. “Come in and see mother,” said Bobbie, who had quite regained his spirits.

“I think I must be going,” said John.

He put the provisions on the table, and promising to make him a boat out of a piece of wood he had, he went home. When he reached home John set about making the promised boat, and he really fashioned it most skilfully. The rest of the day John spent in his garden. It was not till the following ThursdajT that John saw his little friend. He had’ the boat with him, and they met at the same spot. Bobbie rushed up to him and welcomed him most cordially.

“I fought you was never cornin' I’se been waiting for you every day, he said.

"Here is the boat I promised you,” replied John, unwrapping his present. He was quite rewarded for the pains he had taken in making it by the look of admiration and pleasure which tilled the small boy’s eves.

“Oh! Mr Long.” he exclaimed, “is it weally for me?” . “Yes,” said John, and he held out the present to the delighted child. “Fankshu” (thank you), he said, “and next time you come, Mr Long, I’ll have a pweasant for you.” “I’ll be here on Monday,” replied John, and then they parted. John was very curious to know what Bobbie would have for him, so he went to the minister's a little ear-

lier next Monday, but Bobbie was there before him. and in his arms he held a tiny black and white kitten. "Here. Mr Long,” he shouted; "here’s a pweasant for you.” John accepted the gift with many expressions of thanks, but when he got home he took care that Mary should not see his little pet. So every Monday and Thursday John saw Bobbie and a great friendship sprang up between them. John's love for Bobbie increased every day, and by denying himself comforts to give little gifts to him he won the child’s affection. One morning John went with his goods as usual but Bobbie was not there. He thought there must be some reason for it, and was looking round when he perceived a woman running towards him. “Oh! please sir,” she gasped, when she reached John. “Bobbie’s very ill, and he keeps callin’ for Mr Long. Where does he live?” “I am Mr Long,” said John; “let us go at once. What is the matter with him?” “He’s been ill since Monday with the cold and the doctor says he can't live past to-day.” They had reached the cottage by this time, and as they entered a girl came to meet them. “He’s just awake,” she said, so John passed in. What a different little Bobbie it was that lay there. “Mr Long,” he whispered feebly. “I have wanted you so. I so glad you here.” John whispered words of love and tenderness to the little lad. Suddenly a smile illuminated his face. He stretched out his arms. “Yes, I’se tnmin,” was all he said. Then he fell back on the pillow. John’s little friend was dead.