Autobiographies; Boys -- Biography; Country life; New England
sufficient to spell the spelling-book through at the highest pitch.
Friendships are formed, too, which are fervent, if not enduring, and
enmities contracted which are frequently “taken out” on the spot, after
a rough fashion boys have of settling as they go along; cases of long
credit, either in words or trade, are not frequent with boys; boot on
jack-knives must be paid on the nail; and it is considered much
more honorable to out with a personal grievance at once, even if the
explanation is made with the fists, than to pretend fair, and then take
a sneaking revenge on some concealed opportunity. The country-boy at the
district school is introduced into a wider world than he knew at home,
in many ways. Some big boy brings to school a copy of the Arabian
Nights, a dog-eared copy, with cover, title-page, and the last leaves
missing, which is passed around, and slyly read under the desk,
and perhaps comes to the little boy whose parents disapprove of
novel-reading, and have no work of fiction in the house except a pious
fraud called “Six Months in a Convent,” and the latest comic almanac.
The boy's eyes dilate as he steals some of the treasures out of the
wondrous pages, and he longs to lose himself in the land of enchantment
open before him. He tells at home that he has seen the most wonderful
book that ever was, and a big boy has promised to lend it to him. “Is it
a true book, John?” asks the grandmother; “because, if it isn't true,
it is the worst thing that a boy can read.” (This happened years ago.)
John cannot answer as to the truth of the book, and so does not bring it
home; but he borrows it, nevertheless, and conceals it in the barn and,
lying in the hay-mow, is lost in its enchantments many an odd hour when
he is supposed to be doing chores. There were no chores in the Arabian
Nights; the boy there had but to rub the ring and summon a genius, who
would feed the calves and pick up chips and bring in wood in a minute.
It was through this emblazoned portal that the boy walked into the world
of books, which he soon found was larger than his own, and filled with
people he longed to know.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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