Next morning, Mr. Harvey told his
sons that they might go to see an old man, who lived
in a small house, about two miles off, and who was
so sickly that he could not work. This old man’s
name was Hall, and the boys of the school called him
Daddy Hall. He had once been rich; but sickness
and misfortune had reduced him to poverty, so that
he now lived with his little son, in a small hut,
near a hill. Every week he sent fruit and vegetables
to market, in a cart, drawn by a donkey, which some
of the neighbors had given to him. Every week
Mr. Harvey sent either a servant, or one of the boys,
to see how he was getting along, and to carry him
something nice.
The two boys, with their cousin, were
soon off, carrying with them a basket full of things
for the old man. They went by the road across
the meadows, and through a small gate in the hedge.
Samuel observed, that the hawthorn of the hedge grew
very thick and close, so that a bird could scarcely
get through it. The roots and branches were twisted
into each other, appearing like strong, thick chains
woven together; and on the vines grew sharp thorns,
longer than a needle. Mr. Harvey’s boys
told their cousin, that neither man nor beast could
get through such a hedge; and that if a man were placed
on the top, he could walk on the vines without sinking
down, they were so strong and close. “It
would be uneasy travelling, though,” added John;
“for his feet would be torn to pieces by these
spiky thorns.”
They now left the hedge, and went
on through two wide fields, until they reached some
hills that stood by themselves, and were steep and
bare. Three of them had deep pits dug in them,
while piles of rock, stones, and sand, were lying
around. Samuel asked his cousins what place it
was.
“It is an iron mine,”
said Thomas; but it is not worked any more, because
there is not enough of iron found to pay for the trouble.
All these stones lying about here are pieces of ore;
but the quantity of iron in them is so small that
it will not pay for the expense of taking it out from
the ore.”
“How is iron taken from the
ore?” asked Samuel. Thomas replied:
“The ore is first crushed into
coarse dust, and then washed. Afterwards this
dust is melted in a hot furnace, and the iron is separated
from the melted stone, or dross, in a manner which
is very troublesome, and which father can explain
to you better than I can. Sometimes the ore is
almost all iron; John and I have some pieces in our
cabinets, in which you cannot see any stone.”
“But did men go down this deep well?”
asked Samuel.
“Yes; they were lowered down
in buckets. And the water was pumped out by a
machine. The water was so cold, even in the middle
of summer, that one could scarcely hold his hand in
it.”
The boys began to throw stones down
one of the wells, so that they might guess by hearing
them strike the bottom, how deep it was. The first
stones were too small to be heard; then they threw
larger ones, and listened, but could hear no sound.
At last, John took up a piece of rock as big as his
head, and rolled it into the well. It fell with
a hollow, rumbling noise, and all was then still.
The boys thought it had reached the bottom; but all
at once they heard it splash into water. Then
the boys knew that the well was very deep, for the
stone had been falling several seconds. They
then hunted among the piles of ore for some handsome
pieces to give to Samuel; after which, they picked
up their basket, and hurried on toward Daddy Hall’s.
On reaching his house, they found
the old man sitting at the door, while his son, a
good boy, was preparing to take the donkey to market,
with a cart load of turnips, radishes, peas, beans,
and cabbage. Daddy Hall was pale and thin; but
he arose to meet the boys, and seemed very glad to
see Samuel. Although he was sick almost every
day, and sometimes suffered great pain, yet no one
ever heard him complain. He loved children, and
was very fond of talking to them; and before he grew
so weak and feeble, many of the farmers sent their
little ones to him, to learn to read. After they
had been seated a little while, John asked him if
he did not get tired of staying in the house.
“Sometimes,” said the
old man, “I wish I could go out, as I once could,
and work for myself; but I do not feel tired.
Besides, this is the best condition I can be placed
in; and if you ask me why, I will tell you. God,
my children, has placed me in it; and he knows what
is best for each of us. He has given me many
comforts, kind friends, plenty to eat and drink, and
a son, who is one of the best of boys. There is
nothing, John, more cheering to the heart of an old
man than the kindness of a dutiful son; and let me
ask each of you, to listen to the advice of one who
owns such a blessing, and always to show honor and
respect to your parents.”