  "My dear," cried his mother to William one day, As glowing and panting with heat, The parlour he enter'd in haste and alarm, And threw himself down on a seat: "My dear, what misfortune has hurried you now, And brought you so soon from your play? Have you lost your new ball in the field or the pond? Or has your kite flown far away?" My kite rides secure in the air; But I brought a poor boy, whom I left in the hall, And who claims your attention and care. "I found him just now, as returning from play, I passed by the side of the wood; He was stretched on the ground, and senseless and pale, And his face was all covered with blood." "Oh! quick let us go; sure we linger too long," Cried his mother; "my love, lead the way." William bounded, all eager, and soon reached the place, Where reviving, but weak, his friend lay. His bruises and wounds were examin'd with care, And happy was William to hear, That patience and time would restore him to health, For his life he had nothing to fear. And anxiously waited to know, If in climbing he fell, or in mischief was hurt, Or another had given the blow. And as eagerly too did his invalid friend, To his mother and William relate, The cause of his suff'rings, and how he was found In so sad and so helpless a state. He had hasten'd, he said, in his play-hour at noon, To the strawberry bank in the wood, For some ripe ones to take to his sister at home, Who was ill, and they might do her good. As he climb'd some high rocks in his search for the fruit, And held by the trees that hung o'er, But he knew and remember'd no more. His name too he told, and the place where he liv'd, And quickly young William ran there, To tell his good mother her son was now safe, And from them would receive ev'ry care. Delighted to hear of her Jemmy again, She gratefully thank'd his kind friend, Who promis'd to bring him himself to his home, As he knew he would speedily mend. THE END. Darton, Harvey, and Co. Printers, Gracechurch-street. |
|
