NEIGHBOR JOHN by Martha Carmen

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 22, 1897

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 23, No. 16.

NEIGHBOR JOHN.

By Martha Carmen

BY MARTHA CARMEN.

"GOOD-MORNING, John," said Mrs. Thornton to the Chinese vegetable pedler who had just knocked at her back door. "You've plenty of vegetables this morning, I see; lettuce, and peas, and, O, what fine oranges! How much, John?"

"Two bit dozen, lady," answered the pedler as politely as he could.

"Twenty-five cents? well, I will take two dozen of them, for they're the nicest I've seen this spring," replied Mrs. Thornton, as she picked up one of the large golden balls.

"Only got two dozen, lady, and one dozen for 'nother lady up street. She tell me bring 'em to-day. Take one dozen, lady?"

"Yes, one dozen will do, then."

After counting them out, John asked, "Some other thing?"

"No, nothing else this morning," answered Mrs. Thornton.

"All right, lady." And with that John began to put back the vegetables into his two large, cup-shaped baskets. The oranges were placed in a tray that fitted in the top of one of the baskets, so that they would be at hand when he called at the home of the lady who had ordered them. Next, the baskets were fastened to the ends of a strong, six-foot pole, and John, stooping down, rested the pole on his left shoulder, and slowly straightened up until the baskets were balanced. Then, with a pleasant, "Good-morning, lady," to Mrs. Thornton, he was off.

Every one in the village knows old John. His real name is Wong Lee; but long ago the schoolboys gave him the nickname so common to Chinamen, and now he is treated as if he hadn't a name of his own.

It was quite cool that April morning, for there had been a slight frost the night before, and the few people who passed up and down the street were well wrapped up. But no one seemed to think about John's being cold, tho the baskets were so heavy that he walked very slowly, and he wore no coat—only a blue cotton blouse. Besides, his queer, thick-soled slippers were so low and so loose that they nearly slipped off his feet with every step he took.

But he seemed as contented as usual, until he came along by the plaza, or park. Then, as he looked across the street at two boys on their way to school, a dark scowl appeared on his pleasant face. What was the matter? John doesn't dislike boys, does he?—Not all of them; for he often thinks of his own dumpy, black-haired lads in purple blouses and green pantaloons, away back in China.

He doesn't like American boys, tho. And, to tell the truth, Tom Morris and Joe Green were not very lovable, as you will see.

When they came up nearly opposite John, Tom said to his companion:—

"Hello, Joe! there's old Vegetable John; let's have some fun."

"That's a go! Any of the teachers in sight?" replied Joe as he looked up and down the street.

"Don't see any."

"Good! Now we'll have him talking Chinee," Joe answered, as he stooped down and picked up a small rock.

Taking aim, he whirled it across the street, so that it landed in a puddle of water, not three feet in front of John. Splash went the cold, muddy water all over him and his baskets.

"Now we'll catch it. Run!" shouted Tom, excitedly.

Away they sped in opposite directions,—just in time, too; for the now angry Chinaman had quickly set down his baskets, and was after naughty Joe. It was well he could not understand the muttered threats, and it was well for him that the cry of, "Hey, John!" rang out just when it did. In another moment he would have been caught.

At the sound of his name the Chinaman paused, and looked around. There lay one of his baskets on its side, the lid off, and those fine oranges and other vegetables scattered about the sidewalk. Slowly he walked back, still muttering to himself.

It was enough to confuse any one, wasn't it? Chinamen seem to think slowly, and so poor old John just stood and stared at the wreck as if he didn't know what to do.

Joe and Tom thought no one had seen their wicked conduct, but they were mistaken, for Eddie Peck, one of Miss Martin's Sunday-school class, was on his way to school, not far behind them.

"That Joe Green had better mind his own business," said Eddie to himself, as the rock went flying across the street. "There, John's after him, and I don't care if he gets caught. It'll serve him right. Now I'd like to know what Tom's sneaking back for—after the baskets, I suppose. I declare! he's pushed one of them over. What a shame! If Miss Martin saw that, she'd say that John was my neighbor, I guess, and that I ought to go and help him; for, when we had that lesson about our neighbors, she said it meant any one we could help when in trouble. But I suppose she didn't think about Chinamen when she said that. Besides, he can pick 'em up himself, and I'll just keep on this side the street; for, if any of the boys saw me helping him, they'd guy me terribly."

But Eddie changed his mind. He was naturally kind-hearted, and as he came closer to John, and saw the pitiful look on his face, he was across that street in less time than we can tell it.

"Come on, John; I'll help you straighten up things!" was the cheerful greeting.

The Chinaman turned around, looked at Eddie suspiciously for a second, and then said gruffly:—

"No."

"O, yes; I want to!" replied Eddie, as he placed his book satchel against a tree, and began to pick up the oranges out of the water.

John set to work too, but watched the boy suspiciously all the time; for he half expected to see him try to sneak some of the fruit into his pockets.

"I'll wash these oranges over there," said Eddie, as he took three of the dirtiest ones to a drinking fountain in the plaza. "There, that'll make them all right," he added as he returned, wiping them on his clean pocket-handkerchief. "Now, John, we'll just break off the muddy leaves of that lettuce head. See, that's better, isn't it?"

With the aid of Eddie's willing hands, everything was soon back in the basket, not much the worse for the spilling out.

The angry look had disappeared from John's face, too, and, reaching down, he picked up the largest one of those precious oranges. Then, holding it out toward Eddie, he said:—

"Take this one."

"O, no, John! I don't want any pay. No, really I don't," said Eddie earnestly, as the fruit was still held out to him.

The Chinaman looked surprised.

"Then why for you help me?" he asked.

Eddie laughed as he picked up his book satchel, and replied:—

"O! just because I felt sorry for you; and then you're my neighbor, John, so I ought to do it. I must hurry on to school now. Good-by, John."

The two mischief-makers had crept back close enough to see what was going on, and for several minutes had been peeking out from behind convenient trees. We must do them the credit to say that they were enough ashamed of themselves not to give Eddie the "guying" he expected.

Old John stood and watched his little helper as he walked briskly down the street. He didn't understand Eddie's explanation about neighbors, but he could appreciate kindness, and, as he once more stooped down and placed the pole across his shoulder, he said to himself:—

"Pretty good Melican boy."

As John plodded along up the street every one noticed him, for they wondered why he looked so happy.

But I don't wonder. Do you?—S. S. Times.