"I will tell what he did. He sat down on the bank of the canal, stopped the opening with his hand, and patiently awaited the passing of a villager. But no one came. "Hour after hour rolled slowly by; yet there sat the heroic boy in the cold and darkness, shivering, wet, and tired, but stoutly pressing his hand against the water that tried to pass the dangerous breach. "All night he staid at his post. At last morning broke, when a clergyman, walking up the canal, heard a groan, and looking around to see where it came from, seeing the boy, and surprised at his strange position, exclaimed with astonishment,-- "'Why are you there, my child?' "'I am keeping back the water, sir, and saving the village from being drowned,' answered little Peter, with lips so benumbed with cold that he could hardly speak. "The astonished minister at once relieved him of his hard duty, and the poor little fellow had but just strength enough left to alarm the villagers, who flocked to the dike, and repaired the breach. "Heroic boy! What a noble spirit of self-devotion he had shown! resolving to brave all the fatigue, the danger, the cold and darkness, rather than permit the ruin which would come if he deserted his post. "There is a beautiful poem on the subject by Miss Carey. I will repeat a few of the last verses." Then Mr. Lacelle repeated in a clear, mellow voice, whose slight foreign accent lent it an additional charm to Eric's ear,-- "So faintly calling and crying Till the sun is under the sea,-- Crying and moaning till the stars Come out for company. He thinks of his brother and sister, Asleep in their safe, warm bed; He thinks of his father and mother; Of himself as dying--and dead; And of how, when the night is over, They must come and find him at last; But he never thinks he can leave the place Where duty holds him fast. "The good dame in the cottage Is up and astir with the light, For the thought of her little Peter Has been with her all the night. And now she watches the pathway, As yestereve she had done; But what does she see so strange and black Against the rising sun? Her neighbors are bearing between them Something straight to her door; Her child is coming home, but not As ever he came before.