After London | Page 4

for their own use, and
voluntarily give it up to afford help and joy to others. I, too, will reward
the boy generously. I wonder what use he would make of the money."
"We could not give the money to a more worthy person," said Alfred,
who then related to his mother the boy's aspirations. "Besides, I have
written to his teacher, and this is what he says about him: 'A greater
deed of charity you could not perform than to help Michael Warden

carry out his desire to learn a trade. He is a clever, ingenious boy, and
would learn quickly. I think he would like best to be a wheelwright,
and I would suggest that you apprentice him with the master in our
village.' So you see, mother, the money would not be spent in vain."
"Very well, the money shall be his."
On the following morning, Alfred sent for Michael, and counted out to
him the money, increasing it to fifty pounds. Michael's astonishment
almost carried him off his feet, and he thanked Alfred profusely for the
extra money. He hurried home to his father and laid his wealth before
him on the table. The old man stared at it in blank amazement, and said:
"My boy, I hope you have not stolen this money!"
"No, father, but a little bird in the forest helped me," and Michael
related the incident.
His father, overjoyed, now made all preparations for Michael's outfit.
He then conducted him to the master wheelwright, paid the stipulated
sum and entered him as an apprentice. At the end of three years, the
boy was as accomplished in his trade as his master.
Before starting out into the world, Michael returned to the Castle of
Banford to tell of his progress, and once more thank the Duchess and
her children for their kindness to him. They praised him heartily for the
strides he had made. The Duchess then gave him another gift of money
for his journey, and said: "Success be yours. We must never do good by
halves; the sapling that we plant we should also water." Then with
many encouraging remarks, the Banfords bade him good-bye.
Touched by their interest and charity, Michael was so stupefied that he
could scarcely speak. When he recovered his self-control, he thanked
them all, and promised faithfully to do his best and always remember
their good advice.
CHAPTER III
ALFRED BANFORD

Alfred Banford had always been kind to the poor and dutiful and
affectionate to his mother. Suddenly he was seized with patriotic fervor.
For some time he had nursed the desire to be a soldier. At the age of
seventeen, he studied the art of warfare at a military academy. He
surprised all the officers with his military genius.
The Duchess, too, loved her fatherland, and at last she tearfully
recognized that she must give up her son to fight in defense of his
country.
"Go, then," said she, "fight for the right and your country; and may God
protect you."
Alfred fought valiantly and well, and at last was forced to proceed with
the great French army against Russia. On the way to Moscow the ranks
were greatly depleted, owing to the long, wearisome marches and
privations. After untold hardships and bloodshed, the army at last
reached Moscow, with her many palaces and temples and spires and the
old palace, the Kremlin. It was a pleasing picture. Alfred, like every
other soldier, now hoped to recuperate from the hardships of warfare.
But he found the city uninhabited, the streets deserted, the palaces and
houses empty.
At midnight, a dreadful fire which had been smoldering for several
days, broke out in wild fury and laid the greater part of the city in ashes.
The army was obliged to retreat; and many thousand brave soldiers,
exposed to snow and ice, hunger and cold, met a horrible death. One
single freezing night killed thousands of horses, Alfred's among them.
He was obliged to walk knee deep in icy water.
They traversed miles and miles of country without passing one hut; and
when in the distance a human habitation appeared and gave promise of
warmth and food, they found upon approach that it was deserted and
devoid of everything.
The poor, miserable, weakened soldiers were obliged to spend many a
weary night on the snow-covered ground, with no roof but the sky. The
need of food became more and more imperative each moment; yet if

they had had the wealth of kings, they could not have bought a dry
crust of bread; so they were reduced to the extremity of eating the flesh
of their fallen horses. They quenched their thirst with snow.
The street upon which the greater part of the army had gathered was
marked with deserted cannons and