The Boy Patriot | Page 5

old washerwoman on whose errand Hal
had been sent forth, was too indignant at the destruction which had
befallen her handiwork, to give one kindly thought to the poor boy who
had so honorably striven to spare her the misfortune over which she
lamented so dolorously. Her Sunday thoughts strayed far more
frequently to the dingy, stained garments soaking in her back kitchen,
than to Hal Hutchings, quietly lying in Mrs. Robertson's best bedroom.
"I wonder no one comes to inquire after him. Has he no friends, Blair?"
said Mrs. Robertson as evening was drawing on.
"I dare say not, mother. I never saw him with anybody. He does errands
round town, and has been sleeping at Mrs. McKinstry's, the
washerwoman's. He didn't take his meals there, I know, for I've seen
him eating bread and cheese in some corner just when other folks were
sitting down to dinner. They call him 'Hal the English boy;' but I guess
nobody knows much about him."
"A stranger in a strange land," said Mrs. Robertson thoughtfully; and
then she rose up and went into the room where Hal was still lying.
Blair took up his Bible. How precious that Bible seemed to him
now--the light for his feet, the lamp for his path. With reverence he
turned the sacred pages until he found the fifty-first psalm, which he
read with solemn earnestness, making its humble petitions truly his
own.
While Blair was thus employed, Mrs. Robertson was talking in her own
kindly way to the stranger.
"So you are an English boy, Hal," she said. "That will not keep me

from loving you, for you know the Bible says we must 'love our
enemies;' but I don't believe you are such a very dangerous enemy,
after all." Her pleasant smile was like sunshine to the heart of the lonely
boy, and his reserve melted away before it.
"I'm Hinglish, because I was born in Hingland," said the boy. "I
couldn't help that; and I couldn't blame my father and mother for it
neither, for I never knowed them. I've been an orphan always. But I'm
an American, because I chose this for my country, and I worked my
passage over here, and I haven't begged from anybody."
"I'm glad you want to be an American," said Mrs. Robertson gently; "it
is a great privilege. But there is something more to do for every boy
who wants to be an American citizen, than just landing in this country
and earning his own living, and then by and by voting for our rulers."
Hal opened his large pale blue eyes in confused expectation, and was
silent.
Mrs. Robertson was not easily discouraged, and she went on. "You
would think it very rude, Hal, if I were to invite a poor stranger to my
house to dinner, and he should jump and laugh while I was asking
God's blessing before eating; and then toss the plates about, breaking
my dishes and scattering the food over my clean floor. You would
think the least he could do would be to be civil, and keep the rules of
my house while he was in it."
"Such a chap as that ought to have the door showed him right straight,"
said Hal warmly.
"Well, my boy, this is what I mean: When we welcome strangers to our
free country, which our fathers fought for and gave their blood to win,
we expect those strangers to fall in with our ways, and not disturb the
peace and order of the pleasant home they have come to. Is not that
right?"
"Yes, ma'am; and I haven't disturbed anybody's peace nor order," said
Hal with another blank look of the blue eyes.

"No, and I do not believe you ever will; but I have not done yet. A free
people, to be a safe people, must be a Christian people. Are you a
Christian boy, Hal?" The question was asked with deep seriousness.
"I a'n't a heathen," said Hal in surprise.
"No, you don't bow down to a wooden idol, or worship snakes and
bulls, as some heathen people do. But are you trying to serve God in all
you think and do and say? Have you asked him to forgive you all your
sins, for the sake of his dear Son; and do you believe he has forgiven
you, and taken you to be his own dear child?"
"I never had anybody talk to me so before," said Hal with a confused
look; "but I take it, I a'n't what you call a Christian."
"I dare say you do not understand me very well," said Mrs. Robertson.
"God can make these things plain to you. Close your eyes, and I will
kneel down here and ask him to teach you to know