We never lose by being kind.

It was to be a great day for little Robert. Though he was only ten years old he was a fine runner, and that day there was to be a foot race at his uncle’s farm. A knife with a pearl handle was the prize, and Robert’s heart was set on winning it.

His father had hired a Shetland pony named Beauty to take him to Mayfair, his uncle’s farm where the races were. When Robert saw the pony he jumped for joy, and leaping on its back rode off. The races were to begin at eleven o’clock, and it was already after ten when he started, and he had about five miles to go.

Beauty and her rider were traveling fast when Robert heard a voice calling him. He saw an old lady named Mrs. Smith. His father had often told him of the little old couple living in the house at the forks of the road.

Mrs. Smith was in great trouble; her husband was sick and she could not leave him, and she had nobody to go for the doctor. She begged Robert to turn back and ride as fast as he could for the doctor.

Robert hesitated at first, thinking of the races and the fine prize he hoped to win, and all the fun he was going to have. Then he looked down at poor Mrs. Smith and saw the tears in her eyes. He remembered his own mother and father, and his mind was made up quickly as to what he ought to do.

“What doctor do you want?” he asked. Mrs. Smith told him, and turning the horse’s head he was off at a gallop. Mile after mile the little pony traveled until he came to the doctor’s gate.

“Doctor,” he said, “Mrs. Smith’s husband is very sick; she says please come quickly—she sent me for you.” The doctor was just getting ready to leave for the day’s work. He drove as fast as he could, Robert behind him on the faithful Beauty. They reached Mrs. Smith’s home in time for the doctor to save Mr. Smith’s life. Then Robert rode on to the races.

It was late when he reached the farm and he was tired. The foot race had not yet been reached, and he was in good time after all. “Come on, Robert, you are in plenty of time and you are a good runner. Come get ready for the foot race,” they cried to him as he rode into the gate.

Robert was ready in a minute and they were off. He ran for all his life, just as hard as he could, all the time thinking how glad he was that he had helped poor Mrs. Smith. That made him run faster for his heart was light, and he won the knife by a good margin.

He felt very glad he had helped the old woman, and had lost nothing by the good deed.