|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
217 ordinary powers, could have conquered with ease, but which, to the addled brain of the crushed boy of nineteen, was a sealed and hopeless mystery. Yet there he sat, patiently conning the page again and again, stimulated by no boyish ambition, for he was the common jest and scoff even of the uncouth objects that congregated about him, but inspired by the one eager desire to please his solitary friend. Nicholas laid his hand upon his shoulder. ‘I can’t do it,’ said the dejected creature, looking up with bitter disappointment in every feature. ‘No, no.’ ‘Do not try,’ replied Nicholas. The boy shook his head, and closing the book with a sigh, looked vacantly round, and laid his head upon his arm. He was weeping. ‘Do not for God’s sake,’ said Nicholas, in an agitated voice; ‘I cannot bear to see you.’ ‘They are more hard with me than ever,’ sobbed the boy. ‘I know it,’ rejoined Nicholas. ‘They are.’ ‘But for you,’ said the outcast, ‘I should die. They would kill me; they would; I know they would.’ ‘You will do better, poor fellow,’ replied Nicholas, shaking his head mournfully, ‘when I am gone.’ ‘Gone!’ cried the other, looking intently in his face. ‘Softly!’ rejoined Nicholas. ‘Yes.’ ‘Are you going?’ demanded the boy, in an earnest whisper. ‘I cannot say,’ replied Nicholas. ‘I was speaking more to my own thoughts, than to you.’ ‘Tell me,’ said the boy imploringly, ‘oh do tell me, will you go-- will you?’ |
