THE FRENCH GENTLEMAN.

157

mean, something of real use to you," continued he, as his mother looked at the net which he had been mending; "I wish I could do something better than mending the meshes of old nets."

"You do enough for your age, dear," said his mother, "and we shall manage to go on quite well while the summer lasts; all I dread to think of is the winter."

"O, mother, if you should have your rheumatism come on then, what would you do? I wish I were older, to work for you."

"I cannot bear to think of it," answered his mother, weeping; "if I should have my old complaint come back, I should not be able to work any longer, and then who is to take care of my poor Johnny? I have not a friend in the world that I could send to for help, if I were ill!"

"Don't you recollect, mother, the French gentleman you have often told me about: perhaps he would help you, if he could know you are so poor."

"But he lives in Paris, and I can't write, so how is he to know the state I am in?" answered his mother; "or else I am sure he would never suffer any one belonging to the deliverer of his child to die of want. Besides, I well remember (for many 's the time I have made my dear husband tell me the tale) when the child fell over the side of the vessel which was just ready to sail, and your dear father, plunging into the waves, brought him back his infant safe and sound, and smiling up in his face, the gentleman, after bending his head for a minute over the dear dripping babe, to hide his streaming eyes, (for, let a gentleman be never so manly, it's more than he can do to keep from crying like one of us, when he sees his own flesh and blood saved from death,) he turned to your poor fa

158

STORY OF JOHN BARTON.

ther, and said, in a fluttering-like, yet grand kind of voice, too, Barton,' says he, 'you have done more for me than if you had saved my own life; I can never hope to repay you for the happiness you have given me at this moment, yet-'. Before the gentleman could finish what he was going to say, your good father turned away, saying, 'Lord bless your honor, don't thank me; it's no more than what you'd have done for my Johnny, if you'd seen him drop overboard, like your young thing there.' Your father was proud enough then, Johnny, and he told me he guessed that the gentleman was going to reward him, so he jumped into his boat which lay alongside, and the vessel sailed away immediately, and he never heard any thing more of the gentleman: but though your father didn't want any thing at that time, from any body, being able, as he was, to gain his own living comfortably and honestly, much less to have a reward for having saved an innocent fellow-creature's life; yet, I can't help wishing that he'd made a friend of the gentleman, who could'nt but be grateful."

"How long ago was this, mother?" said John, after thinking a little while.

"It was eight years since, come midsummer day; I should surely remember it," continued dame Barton, for when my good John Barton came home with an honest flush on his brow, and first told me the story, I looked on the dear babe I held in my arms, and thanked God that it was not my own dear Johnny which had run the chance of a drowning death, instead of the little stranger. You were then a little more than a fortnight old, for to-morrow's the third of June, you know, your birth-day, Johnny; and then you will be exactly eight years old."

JOHN THINKS OF GOING TO PARIS.

159

"Do you think the gentleman has forgotten what my father did for him, mother?" asked Johnny, after another and a longer pause.

"I don't think he has; but I can't say, for gentlefolk are apt to be forgetful. Perhaps, however, he has never been to England since then.”

Little John said no more, but went on very busily with his work, so busily, indeed, that when his mother looked at him again, she saw that he had finished his job.

"Why, how quickly you have worked, Johnny," said she; " you didn't think to have done that net till to-morrow morning, did you?"

"No, mother," answered John; "but when I am talking to you, and thinking hard, it's surprising how the work gets on; I'm glad I 've done it, though," continued he, rising to put by his mesh and twine, "for I shall be able to take it to Bill Haul to-night, instead of to-morrow, as I promised him."

"But it's getting dark, dear; I am going to put away my wheel," said his mother.

"O, it's not too late, mother; I shall be there and back before you have put by your spinning-wheel, and got the haddocks out ready for supper; so good bye, good bye, mother," added he, seeing that she did not prevent his going, and off he ran.

"He's a dear, good little soul, and that's the truth on't," said dame Barton to herself, as she listened to the eager footsteps of the boy, which crashed among the shingles, growing fainter and fainter every minute, till at last their sound could no longer be distinguished from the restless washing of the waves on the beach. "I'm sure I oughtn't to be the one to check him when he's doing a good-natured turn for a neighbor."

160

MEETING WITH A FRENCHMAN.

It was a beautiful evening, and as little John Barton ran along the beach, he took off his hat, and unbuttoned his shirt collar, that he might enjoy the cool breeze, for the day had been very sultry.

"This air blows towards France," said he, half aloud, "for I know that France lies over there across the blue waters, and Paris is in France, and he lives in Paris. O, how I do wish," exclaimed he, passionately, and suddenly stopping short, and straining his eyes over the wide sea, "how I do wish I could go to Paris; I would find him out-I would see him-I would tell him-I will, I must go," said he, interrupting himself, and again running forward. When he arrived at the cottage where his friend Bill Haul lived, he found a strange man there, speaking with Bill's father, whom he did not at first take any notice of, but kept on talking with Bill about the net; however, presently he noticed that the man talked in a different tone from what he usually heard, and used his arms very violently while he spoke, and, at last, John thought he heard him say the word France, though in the same curious voice he had before noticed.

"Isn't that man a Frenchman, Bill, that 's talking to your father?" asked John.

"Yes, he's wanting father to buy a cargo of apples and eggs he has brought from France, and he's in a hurry to strike his bargain, because he wants to be aboard again by four o'clock to-morrow morning; but never mind him, Jack, he speaks such gibberish, that

"Did you say he was going to France at four tomorrow morning, Bill?" interrupted little John.

"Yes, the tide serves them then to make the harbor of Boulogne, I heard him say, so he wants to be off; do

OBTAINS LEAVE TO GO.

161

but hear what a chatting the French mounseer makes," said Bill," who was about fourteen years of age, and thought it looked manly to ridicule a Frenchman. By this time the bargain was concluded between the fisherman and the apple-merchant; and as the latter left the cottage, John Barton took rather a hasty leave of his friend, and ran after the stranger, whom he overtook just as he reached the beach.

"Sir, Mr. Frenchman," said John, as he approached him somewhat out of breath, "sir, I want to speak to you, if you please."

Heh, what you say, littel boy?" said the man, turning round.

"A'n't you going to France, sir,” said John.

“Yes, I am, at to-morrow morning, et puis-but what den, my littel shild ?"

"Why, sir, I want very much to go to France, and if you'd be so good as to take me in your boat-”

66 Take you in my boat? what for should I do dat?" answered the Frenchman.

"Why, I can give nothing for taking me, to be sure," said John; "I have neither money, nor any thing else of my own, to give away, but I will work as well and as hard as ever I can : I can mend nets, and I can tar boats, and I can splice ropes, and I

can-"

"Stop, stop, stay," interrupted the Frenchman; "I was not tinking of what you could give me, or what you could do for me, but I was tinking what should be de use if I was to take you in my bateau-in my boat."

"O, then you will take me, sir! O, thank you, sir," said John, eagerly; "what use, did you say, sir? O, I want very much to go to France, to find a gentleman, who I hope will be a friend to my poor mother."