The Beacon Second Reader Part 17

He had learned to speak their tongue, but they did not trust him.

Some of them were always with him, for they were afraid he would run away.

All this time John had kept his skates carefully hidden.

One day the ice froze clear and smooth. John brought his skates down to the river bank.

Many of the Indians followed to see what he was going to do.

They crowded around him on the ice.

John thought he would play a trick on them.

He strapped the skates upon the feet of an Indian boy.

The boy tried to stand up, but his feet slipped out from under him, and down he b.u.mped upon the ice.

How the Indians laughed!

They thought it was a great joke.

Each of them in turn tried on the skates.

How they sprawled and fell upon the ice!

What fun it was for the other Indians!

When they were tired of the sport they held out the skates to John and asked him to put them on.

John strapped on the skates with great care. He was a good skater, but he made believe that he could not skate at all.

He fell down and b.u.mped his head.

He tripped over his toes and made great fun for the Indians.

They did not see that each time he fell he was a little farther out on the ice.

All at once John jumped up.

Away he flew, skating for his life.

Down the river he went, swift as a bird.

The Indians rushed after him, but he had too great a start.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The Indians were swift runners, but John, on his skates, was swifter still.

He knew that the river must flow toward the ocean, and that near the ocean lived the white people.

On and on he skated.

Two days later he saw the smoke of a white man's cabin and knew that he was safe.

John soon found his father and mother.

How glad they were to see him!

A GOOD PLAY

We built a ship upon the stairs, All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of sofa pillows, To go a-sailing on the billows.

We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And Tom said, "Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake,"-- Which was enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.

We sailed along for days and days, And had the very best of plays; But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

[Ill.u.s.tration]

d.i.c.k WHITTINGTON--I

d.i.c.k Whittington was a poor little boy who lived in the country.

His father and mother were both dead.

Poor little d.i.c.k was always willing to work, but sometimes there was no work for him to do, so he often had nothing to eat.

Now d.i.c.k was a bright boy.

He kept both ears open to hear what was said around him.

He had heard many times about the great city of London.

Men said that in this great city the people were rich.

d.i.c.k had even heard that the streets were paved with gold.

"How I should like to visit that great city," thought d.i.c.k, "for I could pick up gold from the streets!"

d.i.c.k had earned a little money, so one day he set out to walk to London.