One hot day in the month of June, a poor sunburnt lame sailor, with but
one leg, was going along the road, when his crutch broke in half, and he
was forced to crawl on his hands and knees to the side of the road, and
sit down to wait till some coach or cart came by, whose driver he would
ask to take him up. The first that passed that way was a stage coach,
but the man who drove it was a surly fellow, and he would not help the
sailor, as he thought he should not be paid for it.
Soon after this the tired sailor fell fast asleep upon the ground, and
though a thick shower of rain came on, yet still he slept: for sailors
when on board their ships have to bear all sorts of weather.
When the wind blows, the waves of the sea often dash over the deck of
the vessel and wet the poor men to the skin while they are pulling the
ropes and shifting the sails.
When the lame sailor awoke he found a boy's coat and waistcoat laid on
his head and shoulders, to keep him from being wet; and the boy sat by,
in his shirt, trying to mend the broken crutch with two pieces of wood
and some strong twine. 'My good lad,' said the sailor, 'why did you pull
off your own clothes to keep me from being wet?' 'O,' said he, 'I do not
mind the rain, but I thought the large drops that fell on your face
would awake you, and you must be sadly tired to sleep so sound upon the
bare ground. See, I have almost mended your crutch, which I found broke;
and if you can lean on me, and cross yonder field to my uncle's
farmhouse, I am sure he will get you a new crutch. Pray, do try to go
there. I wish I was tall enough to carry you on my back.'
The sailor looked at him with tears in his eyes, and said, 'When I went
to sea five years ago, I left a boy behind me, and if I should now find
him such a good fellow as you seem to be, I shall be as happy as the day
is long, though I have lost my leg and must go on crutches all the rest
of my life.'
'What was your son's name?' the boy asked.
'Tom White,' said the sailor, 'and my name is John White.'
When the boy heard these names he jumped up, threw his arms round the
sailor's neck, and said, 'My dear, dear father, I am Tom White, your own
little boy.'
How great was the sailor's joy thus to meet his own child, and to find
him so good to those who wanted help! Tom had been taken care of by his
uncle while his father was at sea, and the sunburnt, lame sailor found a
happy home in the farmhouse of his brother; and though he had now a new
crutch, he kept the broken one as long as he lived, and showed it to all
strangers who came to the farm, as a proof of the kind heart of his dear
son Tom.