Fifty Famous People: A Book of Short Stories. Baldwin James

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СКАЧАТЬ and said, "What shall I do with these coppers, mother?"

      It was the first money that he had ever had.

      "You may buy something, if you wish," said his mother.

      "And then will you give me more?" he asked.

      His mother shook her head and said: "No, Benjamin. I cannot give you any more. So you must be careful not to spend these foolishly."

      The little fellow ran into the street. He heard the pennies jingle in his pocket. How rich he was!

      Boston is now a great city, but at that time it was only a little town.

      There were not many stores.

      As Benjamin ran down the street, he wondered what he should buy. Should he buy candy? He hardly knew how it tasted. Should he buy a pretty toy? If he had been the only child in the family, things might have been different. But there were fourteen boys and girls older than he, and two little sisters who were younger.

      What a big family it was! And the father was a poor man. No wonder the lad had never owned a toy.

      He had not gone far when he met a larger boy, who was blowing a whistle.

      "I wish I had that whistle," he said.

      The big boy looked at him and blew it again. Oh, what a pretty sound it made!

      "I have some pennies," said Benjamin. He held them in his hand, and showed them to the boy. "You may have them, if you will give me the whistle." "All of them?"

      "Yes, all of them."

      "Well, it's a bargain," said the boy; and he gave the whistle to Benjamin, and took the pennies.

      Little Benjamin Franklin was very happy; for he was only seven years old. He ran home as fast as he could, blowing the whistle as he ran.

      "See, mother," he said, "I have bought a whistle."

      "How much did you pay for it?"

      "All the pennies you gave me."

      "Oh, Benjamin!"

      One of his brothers asked to see the whistle.

      "Well, well!" he said. "You've paid a dear price for this thing. It's only a penny whistle, and a poor one at that."

      "You might have bought half a dozen such whistles with the money I gave you," said his mother.

      The little boy saw what a mistake he had made. The whistle did not please him any more. He threw it upon the floor and began to cry.

      "Never mind, my child," said his mother, very kindly. "You are only a very little boy, and you will learn a great deal as you grow bigger. The lesson you have learned to-day is never to pay too dear for a whistle." Benjamin Franklin lived to be a very old man, but he never forgot that lesson.

      Every boy and girl should remember the name of Benjamin Franklin. He was a great thinker and a great doer, and with Washington he helped to make our country free. His life was such that no man could ever say, "Ben Franklin has wronged me."

      THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD

      I

      In Scotland there once lived a poor shepherd whose name was James Hogg. His father and grandfather and great-grandfather had all been shepherds.

      It was his business to take care of the sheep which belonged to a rich landholder by the Ettrick Water. Sometimes he had several hundreds of lambs to look after. He drove these to the pastures on the hills and watched them day after day while they fed on the short green grass.

      He had a dog which he called Sirrah. This dog helped him watch the sheep. He would drive them from place to place as his master wished. Sometimes he would take care of the whole flock while the shepherd was resting or eating his dinner.

      One dark night James Hogg was on the hilltop with a flock of seven hundred lambs. Sirrah was with him. Suddenly a storm came up. There was thunder and lightning; the wind blew hard; the rain poured.

      The poor lambs were frightened. The shepherd and his dog could not keep them together. Some of them ran towards the east, some towards the west, and some towards the south.

      The shepherd soon lost sight of them in the darkness. With his lighted lantern in his hand, he went up and down the rough hills calling for his lambs.

      Two or three other shepherds joined him in the search. All night long they sought for the lambs.

      Morning came and still they sought. They looked, as they thought, in every place where the lambs might have taken shelter.

      At last James Hogg said, "It's of no use; all we can do is to go home and tell the master that we have lost his whole flock."

      They had walked a mile or two towards home, when they came to the edge of a narrow and deep ravine. They looked down, and at the bottom they saw some lambs huddled together among the rocks. And there was Sirrah standing guard over them and looking all around for help "These must be the lambs that rushed off towards the south," said James Hogg.

      The men hurried down and soon saw that the flock was a large one.

      "I really believe they are all here," said one.

      They counted them and were surprised to find that not one lamb of the great flock of seven hundred was missing.

      How had Sirrah managed to get the three scattered divisions together? How had he managed to drive all the frightened little animals into this place of safety?

      Nobody could answer these questions. But there was no shepherd in Scotland that could have done better than Sirrah did that night.

      Long afterward James Hogg said, "I never felt so grateful to any creature below the sun as I did to Sirrah that morning."

      II

      When James Hogg was a boy, his parents were too poor to send him to school. By some means, however, he learned to read; and after that he loved nothing so much as a good book.

      There were no libraries near him, and it was hard for him to get books. But he was anxious to learn. Whenever he could buy or borrow a volume of prose or verse he carried it with him until he had read it through. While watching his flocks, he spent much of his time in reading. He loved poetry and soon began to write poems of his own. These poems were read and admired by many people.

      The name of James Hogg became known all over Scotland. He was often called the Ettrick Shepherd, because he was the keeper of sheep near the Ettrick Water.

      Many of his poems are still read and loved by children as well as by grown up men and women. Here is one:—

A BOY'S SONG

      Where the pools are bright and deep,

      Where the gray trout lies asleep,

      Up the river and o'er the lea,

      That's the way for Billy and me.

      Where the blackbird sings the latest,

      Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,

      Where the nestlings chirp and flee,

      That's the way СКАЧАТЬ