A MANLY BOY | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 16, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 16.

A MANLY BOY.

It was a crowded railway station, and a raw December day. Every few minutes the street cars emptied their loads at the door, and gusts of cold wind came in with the crowd. All hurried as they entered. All were laden with bag, basket, box, or bundle. Shivering groups stood about the great round stove in the center of the room. A small boy called, "Tillygram and Broken Needle," which last meant the "Brooklyn Eagle." Another boy shouted, "Cough candy and lozenges, five cents a paper."

Every few minutes a stream of people flowed out through a door, near which a young man stood and yelled, "Rapid transit for East New York!"

The gate was kept open but a moment, and closed again when enough persons had passed through to fill the two cars upon each train. Those so unfortunate as to be farthest from the door must wait until next time. Among those unfortunate ones was an old Swedish woman, in the heavy shoes and short frock of her native Northland. She had heavy bundles and, tho she had a place so near the door that many pushed against her, could not seem to get out. Her burden was too heavy for her to hold as she stood, and when the rush came and she seized one package from the floor by her side, she dropped the other, and in trying to get it, some one crowded and pushed her aside. The bundle was in the way; an impatient foot kicked it beyond her reach, and before she could recover it again, the door was shut. The kind old face looked pitifully troubled.

Suddenly, as she bowed her old gray head to lift the abused bundle from the floor, a bright boyish face came between her and her treasure, and a pair of strong young hands lifted it to her arms. Surprise and delight struggled in the old, wrinkled countenance, and a loud laugh came from two boys whose faces were pressed against the window outside the gate.

"See there, Harry; see Fred, that's what he dashed back for!"

"No; you don't say so? I thought he went for peanuts."

"No, not for peanuts or popcorn, but to pick up an old woman's bundle. Isn't he a goose?"

"Yes; what business has she to be right in the way with her budget. I gave it a good kick."

"Here comes the train. Shall we wait for him, Harry?" And they pounded the window, and motioned for Fred to come out.

But he shook his head, and nodded toward the little old woman at his side. He had her bundles, and her face had lost its anxious look, and was as placid as the round face of a holiday Dutch doll.

"Come along, Fred. Come along! You'll be left again."

"Never mind, boys: off with you; I'm going to see her through."

And they went. And Harry repeated to Dick, as they seated themselves in the train, "Isn't he a goose?"

"No," was the indignant answer; "he's a man, and I know another fellow who's a goose, and that's me, and Fred makes me ashamed of myself."

"Pooh! you didn't mean anything. You only gave it a push."

"I know it; but I feel as mean as if Fred had caught me picking her pocket."

The train whirled away. The next one came. "Rapid transit for East New York; all aboard!" shouted the man at the door.

The gate was open. There was another rush. In the crowd was an old Swedish woman, but by her side was Fred Monroe. He carried the heavy burden; he put his lithe young figure between her and the press. With the same air he would have shown to his own mother, he "saw her through." And when the gate shut, I turned to my book with grateful warmth at my heart that, amid much that is rude, chivalry still lives as the crowning charm of a manly boy.—Silver Cross.