The Potato Child and Others | Page 7

"Well," said Tommy after a pause, "do you ever have any trouble with
the boys you play with?"
"No," said the boy, "I don't think I do."
"Well, you must be a queer sort of a boy! Now, there's Bob Sykes, -
perhaps you've noticed that my eye is hurt, and my face scratched some.
Well, we had a little difficulty just a few moments ago; he insulted me,
and I won't take an insult from any one. And I told him to shut up his
mouth, and he sassed me back, and called me names, and said I was
stuck up and thought I was better than the other boys, and he'd show
me that I wasn't. Of course, I wouldn't stand that, so I've had a fight, -
and it isn't the first one either."
"Yes," said the boy, "I know that. I feel very sorry for Bob. He hasn't
any mother to go to, you know. He had to wash the blood and dirt off
his face as best he could at the town pump; and then wait around the
streets until his father came from work. It is pretty hard for a boy to
have no place to lay his head."
"Why, do you know Bob Sykes?" asked Tommy.
"Yes," answered the boy, "I've been with him a good deal."
"Queer now," mused Tommy. "I don't remember of ever seeing you
around. But now tell me what you would have done if he had provoked
you, and insulted you, too?"

"I would have forgiven him," answered the boy.
"Well, I did. There was one spell I just started in and forgave him every
day for a week, that was seven times."
"I would have forgiven him seventy times seven."
"That is just what my mother always says. Perhaps you know my
mother?"
"She knows me, too," replied the boy.
"That is odd. I didn't think she knew any of the boys Bob knows."
"Bob does not know me," replied the boy; "I know him."
Just then Tommy's attention was attracted by a flock of little brown
birds passing over their heads. One of the birds flew low and fluttered
as if wounded, and fell in the dust near, where it lay beating its little
wings, panting and dying. The boy tenderly picked it up.
"Somebody's hit him with a sling-shot," said Tommy, carelessly.
The boy smoothed the bruised wing, and straightened the crushed and
broken body. The bird ceased fluttering.
"I'm most sorry," said Tommy, "I didn't forgive Bob. It makes me feel
bad, what you told me about his having no home. Now, mother is
something like you. She don't mind one's being poor. Why, if I took
Bob home with me, mother wouldn't seem to see his clothes and ragged
shoes. She'd just talk to him and treat him like he was the best dressed
boy in town. There's Bill Logan came home to dinner with me once.
Mother made me ask him. He is a real poor boy; has to work. His
mother washes. He didn't know what to do nor how to act. He kept his
hands in his pockets most all the time. Aunt Lilly said it was shocking.
But mother said, 'Never mind.' She said she was glad he had his
pockets; for his hands were rough and not too clean, and she thought
they mortified him. Father went and kissed her then. Don't tell this. I
don't know what makes me run on and tell you all these things. I never
spoke of them before. But I know father was a poor, young working
man when he married mother."
The boy raised his hand, and the sparrow gave a twitter of delight and
flew heavenward.
"Why," exclaimed Tommy in amazement, "you've cured him! He is all
right. How did you do it? Do you feel sorry for the sparrows as well as
Bob?"
"I pity every sparrow that is hurt," said the boy, "and isn't Bob of more

consequence than a sparrow?"
"I wish," said Tommy, "I hadn't fought with Bob. It was most all my
fault. I've a good mind to tell him so. I wish I was better acquainted
with you. If I played with such a boy as you are, now, I'd be better I am
certain. Suppose you come after school nights and play in our yard.
Never mind your clothes. Can't you come?"
"Yes, I will come if you want me to," answered the boy, looking
steadfastly at him a moment; but now I must be about my father's
business."
He stooped, lifted the bag of tools to his shoulders, and before Tommy
could stay him had moved some steps away.
"Don't go yet, tell me some more about what you'd do," and Tommy
turned to