YOU may be quite sure that Ben Holt had not many toys. Whilst his
father lived, it had been very different; and the little boy had still
the remains of a large wooden horse on four wheels, which had been
given to him on his fourth birthday. But the wheels were all broken,
and only one leg remained; yet still Ben clung to the wreck of his
former plaything, for it seemed to remind him of the days when his kind
father lived, and when his mother was not obliged to sit and work from
morning to night, as she now had to do.
Often and often did Ben wake up after he had been in bed what seemed
to him a whole long night, and there was his pale and anxious-looking
mother stitching away by the light of a miserable candle, just where
he had left her when he went to bed. Then Ben would feel a warm gush
of love rise up in his heart for his poor mother, and he would long
for the day to come when he should be able to earn enough to keep them
both. Sometimes a deep sigh would escape him as he thought how young he
was, and how long it would be before he was grown up. Then his mother
would look round from her work with a kind smile, and tell him to go
to sleep again; or she would leave her work for a moment to make his
bed comfortable for him, little knowing the thoughts that were passing
through Ben's mind at the time.
Ben was much more thoughtful than boys usually are at his age, one
great reason for which was that his mother kept him with her as much as
possible, not wishing him to associate with the rude boys in the alley.
Having no brothers or sisters, and only his mother for a companion, Ben
was rather old-fashioned in his ways for a little boy nearly ten years
old. He would stand at the window of the little back room in which they
lived, watching the smoke-dried-looking sparrows as they hopped about
amongst the tiles and chimney pots. And he would think how beautiful
the birds must be that are spoken of in the Bible—doves with silver
wings and feathers like gold: he wished he could see some of them.
Sometimes he went with his mother to the shop for which she worked,
and as they came home Mrs. Holt would, now and then, turn aside from
the crowded, noisy streets, to where a large bridge, more quiet than
the others, crossed the busy river. This was a great treat to Ben. He
would stand on the stone seats on the bridge, and watch with delight
the steamers going up and down, and would wonder whether they went very
far, and whether the people in them ever saw doves with "silver wings
and feathers like gold."
One day Ben had accompanied his mother to the shop, and whilst she
was engaged in talking to the master of the shop about the work, and
waiting for some more to be given to her, the little boy amused himself
with standing at the door, watching the crowds of people who passed by.
He liked doing that very much.
There was a large toy-shop just opposite, and as the street was not
very wide, Ben could distinctly see all the pretty tempting things
that were displayed in the windows. Drums, trumpets, horses, coaches,
and, above all, some large, gaily-painted humming-tops. Ben had always
longed-for one of those big humming-tops. He had sometimes seen a
little boy spinning one in the parlour of the shop for which his mother
worked, and had thought how nice it would be if he could only have
one to amuse himself with, in their back room at home. The cheerful
humming noise it made was so pleasant; Ben thought it would be as good
as having somebody to play with. But he never said anything about it
to his mother, for he knew how poor she was, and that sometimes she
could hardly find money to pay the rent, for which a stern-looking man
used to call every Monday morning. So Ben only stood at the shop door,
and longed, perhaps a little more that day than usual, for a painted
humming-top.
Presently, the door of the toy-shop opened, and a lady came out,
accompanied by two children—a little boy about Ben's age, and a girl
rather older. Both children were dressed very smartly, and their arms
were full of toys. The boy had a great drum and a trumpet, and his
pockets were quite full of things. They crossed over from the toy-shop
to the side of the street where Ben was standing, and just then some
large drops of rain began to fall from a very black cloud overhead.
The lady and her children stood up under an archway next door to the
workshop, to wait until the shower was over. Several other persons
took shelter in the same place; amongst them was a kind-looking old
gentleman in spectacles. The rain came down very fast, and Ben laughed
to see the people who had no umbrellas scampering along to get out of
the wet. The street was soon quite empty.
The rain did not last long, however. And when it was nearly over, the
lady and her son and daughter came out from under the archway, and
passed close by Ben. They were evidently looking for a carriage of some
kind, but every one that went by was engaged. They had scarcely passed
the shop door where Ben was standing, when the little boy saw something
floating along in the gutter at the side of the road, which the heavy
rain had filled with water. It came just opposite to him, and he saw it
was a painted humming-top, just such a one as he had so longed-for, and
as he thought he saw peeping out of the little boy's pocket as he had
hurried past with his mamma and sister.
Ben darted forward and seized the precious top, glanced round hastily,
saw that no one was looking for it, that no one had missed it, and for
an instant the thought, "'Now,' I shall have a humming-top," said he
in his mind, with a look of joy. It was only for an instant though;
and then better thoughts had evidently come into Ben's mind, for in a
moment he was seen to run with all his might in the direction the lady
and her children had taken.
The old gentleman in spectacles had watched the whole scene. He
had beheld what Ben had not, namely, the top fall out of the boy's
overcrowded pocket. He had also noticed Ben's wistful look as the
longed-for toy came close to him, and had watched with trembling
interest the short struggle which had gone on in the boy's countenance
between right and wrong.
The old gentleman was a benevolent man, with many children and
grandchildren of his own. He knew the temptation which Ben had
undergone, and felt as thankful in his heart that God had enabled the
boy to overcome it as if Ben had been his own child. One moment he
paused, and then he too followed, but more slowly, in the direction Ben
had taken. The street had become very full of people again, and Ben was
much pushed about as he hurried along. He got within sight of the lady,
who at that moment was just turning round to look after her little
son and his drum. The first thing she saw was poor Ben in his shabby
clothes and the gaily-painted humming-top in his hand.
"Oh, you wicked little thief! So you stole my son's humming-top?" she
cried, catching hold of Ben's shoulder as she spoke.
"No, indeed, ma'am," stammered Ben, frightened by her angry voice. "I
did not indeed, ma'am, I only—"
"Don't tell me any stories about it," said the lady; "it is the very
top I bought for my little boy not ten minutes ago."
"Yes, ma'am, I know it is, but—"
"'You know it is!' You impudent little fellow," interrupted the lady;
"then how dare you say you did not take it?"
By this time quite a crowd had assembled, and some were saying how
dreadful it was for so young a child to be a thief. And a policeman
came up and laid hold of Ben, so that, altogether, the poor boy was
completely frightened out of what little sense he had left.
"Now, young one," said the policeman, "speak the truth, if you know
how. What were you doing here?"
"Please, sir, mother is at the shop."
"What shop?"
"The workshop, just there, sir, and I came with her; and it rolled to
me, indeed it did sir."
"What! The shop rolled to you, did it?" said the policeman, with a half
smile on his face.
"No, sir, the top; it came swimming along in the gutter."
"A very likely thing, indeed," said the lady.
"Which pocket was the top in?" asked the policeman, turning to the
lady's little son, who was looking very grave.
"This one," said the boy, pointing to a little pocket, even then more
than half full of balls and marbles and other toys.
"It almost fell out once before, mamma," said the little girl, as she
looked up in the lady's face, with her bright eyes filled with tears.
"I put it in for Ernest as we were crossing from the toy-shop, and
afterwards the people did push so, that I dare say they pushed it out;
and I don't think that little boy looks like a wicked robber," added
she, in a kind and pitying tone.
But some one was now pressing his way through the crowd. It was the old
gentleman, who soon set matters to rights, and proved that Ben was no
thief, but a very honest boy.
Then everybody seemed very glad, and the lady and her children and the
kind old gentleman, with one or two other persons who had been in the
crowd, went back with Ben to the shop, when they found Mrs. Holt in
great trouble about her son, not knowing what had become of him. The
lady was very kind to Ben now, and told him she was sorry for having
thought so badly of him, and that she would give him the painted
humming-top to keep, at which poor Ben almost jumped for joy.
The little girl went and whispered something to her mamma, who
answered, "Yes, if you like, my dear." And she went up to Ben, and put
a gaily-bound book, full of pictures, into his hands, saying, "I am so
glad you are not a thief, little boy, and mamma says I may give you
this pretty book, and I hope you will soon be able to read it."
Ben thanked the little girl again and again for the beautiful book, and
then the lady and her children left the shop.
The old gentleman stopped behind, and spoke very kindly to Ben and his
mother. "You are bringing up your boy in the right way," he said to
Mrs. Holt; "teach a lad early the value of a good name, and it will be
better than a fortune to him through life. And you, my boy," added he,
addressing Ben, "go on as you have begun, and thank God from your heart
in your prayers to-night that He gave you strength to do your duty
to-day."
He then asked Ben's mother where she lived, and gave her five shillings
to spend as she thought best for her son.
So everything ended pleasantly, and Ben and his mother went home
happily together.
That evening, Mrs. Holt spoke tenderly to Ben as she was putting him to
bed. She was so fearful lest her boy should feel anything like pride or
self-congratulation at the events of the day. The people had praised
him very much, and had called him an honest boy; and now his mother
tried to make him understand that it was not in his power to "think,"
much less to "do," a good action of himself, and that the only feeling
he ought to have about it should be great thankfulness, and that he
should pray to God always to lead him to do right. She told him, also,
that he must not always expect to be rewarded for doing his duty as he
had been that day, but that he must make up his mind to try and do what
was right, let the cost be what it might.
Ben did not, perhaps, understand everything his mother said to him, but
he knew a great deal of it. And when he said his prayer at his mother's
knee, he added the following words:—"O God, I thank Thee for making
me act honestly to-day; help me to do Thy will all my life, for Jesus
Christ's sake."
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