His
imagination kindled by what he had read, and the oft-repeated tales
of frontier life in which the courage, endurance, and high honour
of his own pioneer forefathers stood out strong and clear, it was
but natural that the boy under the apple trees should feel romance
in every bit of forest, every stream; that his thoughts should be
reaching towards the out-of-the-way places of the earth where life
was still that of the pioneer with the untamed wilderness lying
across his path, and on into the wilderness itself.
Though born with all the instincts of the hunter, he was born also
with an exquisitely tender and sympathetic nature, which made him
do strange things for a boy.
One day a toad hopped into the beeyard and his father was about to
kill it. The boy petitioned for its life and carried it away. It
came back. Again it was carried away. Again it returned and this
time was taken clear to the river.
Once a much loved aunt came to visit at his home bringing the
little sister a beautiful, new doll. That night she trotted off to
bed hugging the new treasure close. The boy did not love dolls;
but when he saw the old, rag baby left lonely and forsaken be
quietly picked it up and carried it to bed with him.
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