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(A True Story)
WE were at school together, | |
| The little Jew and I, | |
| He had black eyes, the biggest nose, | |
| The very smallest fist for blows, | |
| Yet nothing made him cry. | 5 |
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| We mocked him often and often, | |
| Called him all names we knew,— | |
| “Young Lazarus,” “Father Abraham,” | |
| “Moses,”—for he was meek as a lamb, | |
| The gentle little Jew. | 10 |
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| But not a word he answered; | |
| Sat in his corner still, | |
| And worked his sums, and counted his task; | |
| Would never any favor ask, | |
| Did us nor good nor ill. | 15 |
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| Though sometimes he would lift up | |
| Those great dark Eastern eyes, | |
| Appealing, when we wronged him much, | |
| For pity? No! but full of such | |
| A questioning surprise. | 20 |
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| Just like a beast of the forest | |
| Caught in the garden’s bound,— | |
| Hemmed in by cruel creatures tame | |
| That seem akin, almost the same, | |
| Yet how unlike are found! | 25 |
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| He did his boyish duty | |
| In play-ground as in school; | |
| A little put upon, and meek, | |
| Though no one ever called him “sneak” | |
| Or “coward,” still less “fool.” | 30 |
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| But yet I never knew him,— | |
| Not rightly, I may say,— | |
| Till one day, sauntering round our square, | |
| I saw the little Jew boy there, | |
| Slow lingering after play. | 35 |
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| He looked so tired and hungry, | |
| So dull and weary both, | |
| “Hollo!” cried I, “you ate no lunch. | |
| Come, here’s an apple; have a munch! | |
| Hey, take it! don’t be loath.” | 40 |
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| He gazed upon the apple, | |
| So large and round and red, | |
| Then glanced up towards the western sky,— | |
| The sun was setting gloriously,— | |
| But not a word he said. | 45 |
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| He gazed upon the apple, | |
| Eager as Mother Eve; | |
| Half held his hand out, drew it back; | |
| Dim drew his eyes, so big and black; | |
| His breast began to heave. | 50 |
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| “I am so very hungry! | |
| And yet—No, thank you. No. | |
| “Good-by.” “You little dolt,” said I, | |
| “Just take your apple. There, don’t cry! | |
| Home with you! Off you go!” | 55 |
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| But still the poor lad lingered, | |
| And pointed to the sky; | |
| “The sunset is not very late; | |
| I’m not so hungry—I can wait. | |
| Thank you. Good-by,—good-by!” | 60 |
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| And then I caught and held him | |
| Against the palisade; | |
| Pinched him and pommelled him right well, | |
| And forced him all the truth to tell, | |
| Exactly as I bade. | 65 |
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| It was their solemn fast-day, | |
| When every honest Jew | |
| From sunset unto sunset kept | |
| The fast. I mocked; he only wept: | |
| “What father does, I do.” | 70 |
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| I taunted him and jeered him,— | |
| The more brute I, I feel. | |
| I held the apple to his nose; | |
| He gave me neither words nor blows,— | |
| Firm, silent, true as steel. | 75 |
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| I threw the apple at him; | |
| He stood one minute there, | |
| Then, swift as hunted deer at bay, | |
| He left the apple where it lay, | |
| And vanished round the square. | 80 |
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| I went and told my father,— | |
| A minister, you see; | |
| I thought that he would laugh outright, | |
| At the poor silly Israelite; | |
| But very grave looked he. | 85 |
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| Then said, “My bold young Christian, | |
| Of Christian parents born, | |
| Would God that you may ever be | |
| As faithful unto Him—and me— | |
| As he you hold in scorn!” | 90 |
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| I felt my face burn hotly, | |
| My stupid laughter ceased; | |
| For father is a right good man, | |
| And still I please him all I can, | |
| As parent and as priest. | 95 |
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| Next day, when school was over, | |
| I put my nonsense by; | |
| Begged the lad’s pardon, stopped all strife, | |
| And—well, we have been friends for life, | |
| The little Jew and I. | 100 |
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