Among the scholars in a college in a small country town were two boys—James Hartley and Edward Jemson. Hartley was a new scholar, and his parents were honest and respectable people, but not very rich. He was a bright, manly boy. Most of the other boys were the sons of wealthy parents.
One morning, as a number of them were going to school, they saw Hartley driving a cow to a field a little beyond the school.
“Halloo, Hartley,” said Jemson, “what’s the price of milk?”
“What do you fodder on, Jim?” asked another.
“Well done, boys,” said a third, “if you want to see the latest Paris style, look at those boots.”
Hartley waved his hand and smiled pleasantly as he passed, without saying a word. He drove the cow to the field, took the bars down, and then went into school with the rest.
At the close of the afternoon, he let the cow out, and drove her off, none of the boys knew where. He did this every day for two or three weeks.
It caused great wondering among the boys. They knew that Hartley’s father didn’t keep a cow, and as he did not choose to explain why he did this, they couldn’t tell what to make of it. Most of the boys were of that foolish class who look upon any honest labor as a sort of disgrace. And so they made all sorts of fun about Hartley and his cow.
“Well, Jim, how’s the ke-ow today?” was a question they often asked him.
“I suppose, Hartley,” said Jemson to him one day, “I suppose your daddy means to make a milkman of you.”
“Why not?” asked Hartley.
“O, nothing; only don’t leave too much water in the cans when you rinse them—that’s all,” said he.
Then the boys all laughed. Hartley never got angry, He bore it all with the greatest good humor, and only said,
“Never fear, boys; if I ever rise to such an honorable position, you may be sure of one thing—I’ll give you good milk and good measure.”
The day after this conversation there was a public examination in the college. A number of ladies and gentlemen, parents of the children, were present. After the examination, prizes were given to the best scholars, and Hartley and Jemson, who were the smartest boys in the school both reived prizes.
After these had been distributed, the principal of the school said there was one prize consisting of a gold medal, which was not often given, because it was seldom that any one was entitled to it. It was the prize not for scholarship, but for Heroism. The last boy who received it was young Manners, who, three years ago, saved a blind girl from drowning at the risk of his own life. And now I wish to rate a story.
Not long since, some of the scholars belonging to this college were flying a kite, just as a boy on horseback rode by, on his way to the mill.
The horse took fright and threw the boy off, injuring him so badly that he had to be carried home, and was confined to his bed for some weeks. None of the boys who had occasioned the misfortune were gentlemanly enough to inquire about the wounded boy. One scholar, however, not among the kite flyers, saw the accident. He went to inquire after the boy who was hurt. and ask if he could be of any help.
He found that the boy was the grandson of a poor widow, whose only support consisted in selling the milk of a very fine cow, of which she was the owner. When she saw her poor boy brought in wounded, she said,
“O, what shall we do? I am old and lame, and now there is no one to take care of the cow.”
“Never mind, good woman,” said the scholar, “I’ll drive your cow till your boy gets well again.”
“God bless you, my boy,” said the old woman, while she wept the thanks she could not speak. But the scholar’s kindness did not stop here. He found that money was wanted to buy medicine.
“I have money that my mother gave me to buy a pair of shoes with,” he said, “but I can do without them for a while.”
“O, no,” said the old woman, “I can’t consent to that; but here is a pair of heavy boots that I bought for Henry. He can’t wear them now, and if you would only buy them, we could get on nicely.”
The scholar bought the boots, clumsy as they were, and has worn them up to this time.
Well, when it was discovered by the other boys of the college that our schor was in the habit of driving a cow, they heaped all sorts of ridicule upon him. They especially made fun of his clumsy cowhide boots. But he kept cheerfully on, day after day, not fooshly trying to keep out of sight, but bravely doing his duty.
The laughs, and jokes, and sneers of his companions were a temptation to him to give up, but he resisted this temptation. He persevered in driving the cow, and wearing the thick boots, because he knew he was doing right. He wouldn’t tell the boys why he was doing this, because that would look like praising himself. And he didn’t mind the fun they made of him, because he knew it was a feeling of false pride which led them to think that it was a disgrace to be engaged in any honest employment. I only found it out by accident yesterday.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen.” said the teacher, “I appeal to you, if there was not true heroism in this boy’s conduct? Nay, Master Hartley, don’t creep out of sight behind the blackboard! You were not afraid of ridicule, you mustn’t be afraid of praise. Come out, Master James Hartley, and let us see your honest face.”
Hartley came out blushing, and the whole company broke out into loud applause of his noble conduct. The ladies stood and waved their handkerchiefs, and the men clapped their hands and gave three cheers for the brave boy. Even the clumsy boots on. Hartley’s feet seemed like a brighter ornament than a crown could have been on his head.
The teacher called him up and put the gold medal round his neck, to honor him for resisting temptation, and doing right.
We judge this dear boy knew the Lord Jesus as his Saviour, and he sought to follow Him “who went about doing good,” and who “pleased not Himself.”
ML 11/28/1943