Part 17 (2/2)

The Indians were swift runners, but John, on his skates, was swifter still.

He knew that the river must flow toward the ocean, and that near the ocean lived the white people.

On and on he skated.

Two days later he saw the smoke of a white man's cabin and knew that he was safe.

John soon found his father and mother.

How glad they were to see him!

A GOOD PLAY

We built a s.h.i.+p upon the stairs, All made of the back-bedroom chairs, And filled it full of sofa pillows, To go a-sailing on the billows.

We took a saw and several nails, And water in the nursery pails; And Tom said, ”Let us also take An apple and a slice of cake,”-- Which was enough for Tom and me To go a-sailing on, till tea.

We sailed along for days and days, And had the very best of plays; But Tom fell out and hurt his knee, So there was no one left but me.

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

[Ill.u.s.tration]

d.i.c.k WHITTINGTON--I

d.i.c.k Whittington was a poor little boy who lived in the country.

His father and mother were both dead.

Poor little d.i.c.k was always willing to work, but sometimes there was no work for him to do, so he often had nothing to eat.

Now d.i.c.k was a bright boy.

He kept both ears open to hear what was said around him.

He had heard many times about the great city of London.

Men said that in this great city the people were rich.

d.i.c.k had even heard that the streets were paved with gold.

”How I should like to visit that great city,” thought d.i.c.k, ”for I could pick up gold from the streets!”

d.i.c.k had earned a little money, so one day he set out to walk to London.

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