BOYS, READ THIS | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 9, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 48.

BOYS, READ THIS.

HE stood before the shop window gazing at the display of fireworks, with bright eyes. He was a little fellow, about seven or eight years old, and below the usual size for his age. After he had stood there long enough to count all the packs of firecrackers and imagine the grand time he could have with even a dozen of these noisy red sticks, he turned away with a tiny, wistful sigh, and walked up to a fruit stand that was close by.

“Gi’me one yer bestest oranges an’ a peach,” he said. The Italian looked at him, first at the dirty little face, then down at the bare feet, blue from the cold pavement and blackened with mud. The little fellow felt the contempt in the look given him, and, drawing himself up with all the dignity worthy of a perfectly dressed gentleman, extended a silver ten-cent piece and said: “I got the money. Come, hurry up, now; my time’s val’able.”

He received the orange and peach, which he tucked into the pockets of his ragged trousers without taking a bite. Just then another small street arab came on the scene.

“What’s yer been gettin’—firecrackers?” he asked in eager tones.

“Naw,” replied the other. “Me little sister’s sick, an’ the dispensary doctor says she ain’t a-goin’ ter see no Fourth, so I thought I’d give ‘er a kinder s’prize pi’nic afore th’ Fourth comes.”

“An’ yer not goin’ ter have no firecrackers?” ejaculated the other boy.

“Course not,” was the reply, and the noble little fellow marched off whistling “Comrades” in a trembling key, which betrayed that the victory over self-indulgence had been a hard-won battle.—Selected.