THE TRAVELLING COMPANION [1]
in which
he had been christened in his infancy, and where his father had
taken him every Sunday to hear the service and join in singing the
psalms. As he looked at the old tower, he espied the ringer standing
at one of the narrow openings, with his little pointed red cap on
his head, and shading his eyes from the sun with his bent arm. John
nodded farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his red cap,
laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his hand to him a great many
times, to show that he felt kindly towards him, and wished him a
prosperous journey.
John continued his journey, and thought of all the wonderful
things he should see in the large, beautiful world, till he found
himself farther away from home than ever he had been before. He did
not even know the names of the places he passed through, and could
scarcely understand the language of the people he met, for he was
far away, in a strange land. The first night he slept on a haystack,
out in the fields, for there was no other bed for him; but it seemed
to him so nice and comfortable that even a king need not wish for a
better. The field, the brook, the haystack, with the blue sky above,
formed a beautiful sleeping-room. The green grass, with the little red
and white flowers, was the carpet; the elder-bushes and the hedges
of wild roses looked like garlands on the walls; and for a bath he
could have the clear, fresh water of the brook; while the rushes bowed
their heads to him, to wish him good morning and good evening. The
moon, like a large lamp, hung high up in the blue ceiling, and he
had no fear of its setting fire to his curtains. John slept here quite
safely all night; and when he awoke, the sun was up, and all the
little birds were singing round him, "Good morning, good morning.
Are you not up yet?"
It was Sunday, and the bells were ringing for church. As the
people went in, John followed them; he heard God's word, joined in
singing the psalms, and listened to the preacher. It seemed to him
just as if he were in his own church, where he had been christened,
and had sung the psalms with his father. Out in the churchyard were
several graves, and on some of them the grass had grown very high.
John thought of his father's grave, which he knew at last would look
like these, as he was not there to weed and attend to it. Then he
set to work, pulled up the high grass, raised the wooden crosses which
had fallen down, and replaced the wreaths which had been blown away
from their places by the wind, thinking all the time, "Perhaps some
one is doing the same for my father's grave, as I am not there to do
it "
Outside the church door stood an old beggar, leaning on his
crutch. John gave him his silver shillings, and then he continued
his journey, feeling lighter and happier than ever. Towards evening,
the weather became very stormy, and he hastened on as quickly as he
could, to get shelter; but it was quite dark by the time he reached
a little lonely church which stood on a hill. "I will go in here,"
he said, "and sit down in a corner; for I am quite tired, and want
rest."
So he went in, and seated himself; then he folded his hands, and
offered up his evening prayer, and was soon fast asleep and
dreaming, while the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed
without. When he awoke, it was still night; but the storm had
ceased, and the moon shone in upon him through the windows. Then he
saw an open coffin standing in the centre of the church, which
contained a dead man, waiting for burial. John was not at all timid;
he had a good conscience, and he knew also that the dead can never
injure any one. It is living wicked men who do harm to others. Two
such wicked persons stood now by the dead man, who had been brought to
the church to be buried. Their evil intentions were to throw the
poor dead body outside the church door, and not leave him to rest in
his coffin.
"Why do you do this?" asked John, when he saw what they were going
he had been christened in his infancy, and where his father had
taken him every Sunday to hear the service and join in singing the
psalms. As he looked at the old tower, he espied the ringer standing
at one of the narrow openings, with his little pointed red cap on
his head, and shading his eyes from the sun with his bent arm. John
nodded farewell to him, and the little ringer waved his red cap,
laid his hand on his heart, and kissed his hand to him a great many
times, to show that he felt kindly towards him, and wished him a
prosperous journey.
John continued his journey, and thought of all the wonderful
things he should see in the large, beautiful world, till he found
himself farther away from home than ever he had been before. He did
not even know the names of the places he passed through, and could
scarcely understand the language of the people he met, for he was
far away, in a strange land. The first night he slept on a haystack,
out in the fields, for there was no other bed for him; but it seemed
to him so nice and comfortable that even a king need not wish for a
better. The field, the brook, the haystack, with the blue sky above,
formed a beautiful sleeping-room. The green grass, with the little red
and white flowers, was the carpet; the elder-bushes and the hedges
of wild roses looked like garlands on the walls; and for a bath he
could have the clear, fresh water of the brook; while the rushes bowed
their heads to him, to wish him good morning and good evening. The
moon, like a large lamp, hung high up in the blue ceiling, and he
had no fear of its setting fire to his curtains. John slept here quite
safely all night; and when he awoke, the sun was up, and all the
little birds were singing round him, "Good morning, good morning.
Are you not up yet?"
It was Sunday, and the bells were ringing for church. As the
people went in, John followed them; he heard God's word, joined in
singing the psalms, and listened to the preacher. It seemed to him
just as if he were in his own church, where he had been christened,
and had sung the psalms with his father. Out in the churchyard were
several graves, and on some of them the grass had grown very high.
John thought of his father's grave, which he knew at last would look
like these, as he was not there to weed and attend to it. Then he
set to work, pulled up the high grass, raised the wooden crosses which
had fallen down, and replaced the wreaths which had been blown away
from their places by the wind, thinking all the time, "Perhaps some
one is doing the same for my father's grave, as I am not there to do
it "
Outside the church door stood an old beggar, leaning on his
crutch. John gave him his silver shillings, and then he continued
his journey, feeling lighter and happier than ever. Towards evening,
the weather became very stormy, and he hastened on as quickly as he
could, to get shelter; but it was quite dark by the time he reached
a little lonely church which stood on a hill. "I will go in here,"
he said, "and sit down in a corner; for I am quite tired, and want
rest."
So he went in, and seated himself; then he folded his hands, and
offered up his evening prayer, and was soon fast asleep and
dreaming, while the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed
without. When he awoke, it was still night; but the storm had
ceased, and the moon shone in upon him through the windows. Then he
saw an open coffin standing in the centre of the church, which
contained a dead man, waiting for burial. John was not at all timid;
he had a good conscience, and he knew also that the dead can never
injure any one. It is living wicked men who do harm to others. Two
such wicked persons stood now by the dead man, who had been brought to
the church to be buried. Their evil intentions were to throw the
poor dead body outside the church door, and not leave him to rest in
his coffin.
"Why do you do this?" asked John, when he saw what they were going