Part IX

The boy's fate turned. He now saw better days,
No more was he compelled to steal or beg.
What happiness! What bliss! Once in a while
Howe'er he feared the old hag might yet bring
His birth certificate and drag 'him off,
And if she did, what could then be his fate.
And here and there the dove of sorrow and regret
Would hover over him, came to his mind
The friend and chum he left behind: the dog,
And for the dog he'd almost willing be
To his old home to go again to beg
That he again might be with his one friend.
He often dreamed of him and in his dreams
He held the dog in his loving embrace,
Who gently gladly lapped his hand and face.
When waking from his sleep the poor boy wept
Because but in a dream he saw his friend.
When with the gentleman he had come home
He was consigned by him to servants' care
Who cleaned him of the dirt of all- the years
And dressed him into new and decent clothes.

How well he felt. As had he never lived

And had been born but now, a happy boy.

The old man then commanded him: "Come here,
And list to what I have to say to you."
"This boy here is my son, your master he,
And you must always call him "gracious Sir"!
He is your master, you his servant are,
He will command, you must obey his will.
You 'have naught else to do but to obey,
Be prompt and be exact; remember well,
One look of his and you must do his bid.
All will be well if you submissive are,
You'll feed well and you will wear decent clothes,
But should you not obey: mark what I say,
The rags in which I found you you get back,
You'll be expelled from here and you can go
To be the beggar boy you were before."
The orphan boy became a faithful slave.
He stood and walked beside his youthful lord
As if his living shadow he had been.
He watched his every move and his commands
Had hardly been expressed when they were filled,.
The boy howe-er was made to suffer much.
The youthful master, like all of his ilk,
Was a contemptuous little autocrat
Who never ceased to make him feel that he
The lord and master is and he the slave.
For instance, if the hot soup burned his lips
He'd turn upon the boy and slap his face.
If someone did not doff the hat to him
He'd knock the boy's hat off with brutal glee.
When combing he awkwardly used the comb
He'd fall upon the boy and pull his hair.
There was no mean, no vile, dastardly trick
The young lord would not play upon his slave.
Maliciously he would step on his toes,
Then kick at him and say: "You're in my way."
Besmear with mud the boy, then deal him blows
Because he dared to come to him unclean,
Throw water in his face and when he wept
He called him by the foul name "bastard-boy".
The poor boy suffered much. From day to day
His sufferings increased. He bore it all.
He bore it all with patience like a man
Within whom lives a high and noble soul.
Why did he bear it? Why did he not leave
As it had been so often in his mind?
Ahi if yon only knew why he remained!
The sweetness of the bread, the decent clothes
Were not what kept him back when more than once
He was about to run away.
He was not like the chicken or the goose
Which wanders off but will come home to roost,
Unlike the lark, unlike the nightingale
Which freed from cage where dainty food is theirs,

Forever leave the same and are content

To seek subsistence in sweet freedom's air.

Thus felt the boy and yet he had remained,
The bird in cage, for freedom pined and yet
Like chicken and the goose he stayed at home,
Whene'er he started he came always back.
What brought him back? His thirst to learn, to know.
Standing behind his youtful lord, he learned,
He peeped into his books, heard every word
The tutor said. The real pupil was he.
He learned with ease and he could read and write
Much sooner than his highborn, youthful lord.
And as the years passed by, his knowledge grew
As yearly grow the antlers of the deer,
And he began to feel proud of himself.
Did, as was oft the case, his gracious chief
Talk nonsence. he, all to himself, unheard,
Corrected him and pitifully smiled
At such dule ignorance he saw displayed.

The tutor noted all. He could not help

Impressed to be with the superior mind

And intellect of our poor servant boy.
He'd call on him the lessons to recite
In which the master failed, although the boy
Had learned them but by hearing them read off.
The tutor tried his pupil thus to shame.
The servant boy carried the honors off,
The vicious master though revenged 'himself,
For humbling him, his vanity and pride.
From day to day he would subject the boy
To more and more indignities most base,
From day to day our poor boy suffered more,
He felt how undeserved the master's blows,
Which no longer caused his bones to ache
But pained his soul, his manhood felt disgraced.
He 'had now reached his sixteenth year of age.
Each day which he had lived within that house
Had brought a ray of light into his mind,
And every ray a message brought to him,
A message which to 'him conveyed these thoughts:
"Why am I treated here with cruel blows?
By what right does one hit another man?
Did not our God create all men alike?
'Tis said our God is just; if He is just
He must love all humanity alike.
I'll bear no longer this, whatever shall come.
True, I am fed and dressed, I have a home,
My services, no less, I give as pay,
It is not charity that I receive.
They have the right to ask my services,
But not at all with cruel blows to strike.

If they strike me once more, I swear by God

That it shall be the last time that they do.

It came to pass. The chance came soon enough.
When' his young master raised his hand to strike.
But lo! the servant rose. "Stop, Sir!" he cried,
"Don't dare to touch me any more. Beware!
If you again strike me, I'll pay in kind,
Give blow for blow, unto your dying day
You'll not forget the thrashing I'll give you.
I've ben a dog now long enough; henceforth
I am a man! the slave, too, is a man.
Yes, it is true, one hand here had been kind
Another hand, though, nullified it all
With heartless blows. We are all even now
We do not owe each other anything."

The youthful master with amazement filled
Stood overawed, but soon in curses foul
And yells gave went to his high wrought-up ire.
"Mean low-life serf! ungrateful rebel knave!"
Our boy howe'er broke in. His voice betrayed
Contempt supreme: You call me low-life serf,
Who knows .if not of nobler race has been
My father than is yours or all his kin;
That he disowned me was his fault, not mine;
And if all gentlemen have hearts and souls
Like yours, thank God then that he cast me off,
Because of my own making now a man
Of worth and faith and deed I'll try to be.
You say a rebel I! Sir! You are wrong.
Is it rebellious to feel, to say
That I too am a man like other men!
Ah! if I could express what now I feel,
What stirs my heart, in language adequate:
My speech would cause the millions to rise,
The world would shake as trembled ancient Rome
When Spartacus stood 'fore the mighty walls,
His gladiators with their broken chains
Belaboring and causing them to fall.
Yes, gracious Sir, we two now part fore'er.
I spoke to you as speaks a man to man.
When once the slave his manhood did assert
Of hunger he might die. die on the stake,
But nevermore he'll be a slave! Good-bye!"
He turned upon his heels and left the house.
He left fore'er the. home in which his life
Had floated over all the years, as floats,
A flower o'er the surface of a pond.

He. went into the world, he knew not where,
He had no aim. The flame of youth leaped up
And burned within his soul, as burns a town
Of fire which is fanned by giant force.
Who ?? master's tutor, who set out
When he had left resolved to bid farewell
To our poor boy. Oh! how the dear old man
Had run! Exhausted he could hardly breathe
Without cessation he his forehead mopped
The while he to the youth in broken speech
— Disjointed did it seem— these word adressed-
Here my dear boy, this money you must take,

it is my wage for one whole year; for you

If you are frugal— 'tis enough for years.
In time to come a great man you will be
I tell you this, I never yet have seen
A boy of mightier mind and intellect
Than you. Your sentiments are also mine,
I feel like you ; alas! I did not dare
To speak as boldly, freely, as you did.
How I admired you! God bless you, boy!!
But listen boy, I give you no advice, '
'Tis a command I give! Go on! and learn!
Your studies you must finish at the schools
Or I shall curse and God shall punish you.
You were not born to live but for yourself,
,Your lot will be to live for all the world,
And therefore, I command: Go! study hard,
But no! This needeth no command from me.
Your thirst for knowledge is well known to me.
And now, God bless you my dear boy! Farewell!
With all my heart I wish you happiness.
Once in a while, dear boy, remember me!

If my command howe'er you do not heed

Then let me forever forgotten be."

The boy bent down to kiss the good man's hand,
The other, though, would not permit him that,
But drew him to his breast and kissed his face
With tearfilled eyes he said: "Farewell!" and left.
The poor boy felt his heart beat strong with bliss,

This was the first time in his dreary life
That he received a token of man's love.
For sixteen years he suffered agonies
E'er he had met a man who had a heart
To give him in a brotherly embrace.
When he had left behind the narrow streets
And reached the open fields he felt relieved.
He felt as if he were from prison freed
And eagerly he breathed God's free air.
His precious gift which to the feet brings strength
And makes the human soul to rise on wings.
Once he looked back, he was far, far away.
The houses seemed to be one mighty mass,
The dark church-towers swallowed by the mist,
The noise of thousands was a bee-hive's hum.
"You must not stop", the boy said to himself,
You must not see the place or hear of it
Where until now you lived, if it be life
Which has been yours. And he resumed his pace
As one who tries from stinging whips to fly.