After that a great many men learned to smoke. And now tobacco is used
in all countries of the world. It would have been well if Sir Walter
Raleigh had let it alone.
POCAHONTAS.
There was once a very brave man whose name was John Smith. He came to
this country many years ago, when there were great woods everywhere,
and many wild beasts and Indians. Many tales are told of his
ad-ven-tures, some of them true and some of them untrue. The most
famous of all these is the fol-low-ing:--
One day when Smith was in the woods, some Indians came upon him, and
made him their pris-on-er. They led him to their king, and in a short
time they made ready to put him to death.
A large stone was brought in, and Smith was made to lie down with his
head on it. Then two tall Indians with big clubs in their hands came
forward. The king and all his great men stood around to see. The
Indians raised their clubs. In another moment they would fall on
Smith's head.
But just then a little Indian girl rushed in. She was the daugh-ter of
the king, and her name was Po-ca-hon'tas. She ran and threw herself
between Smith and the up-lift-ed clubs. She clasped Smith's head with
her arms. She laid her own head upon his.
"O father!" she cried, "spare this man's life. I am sure he has done
you no harm, and we ought to be his friends."
The men with the clubs could not strike, for they did not want to hurt
the child. The king at first did not know what to do. Then he spoke to
some of his war-riors, and they lifted Smith from the ground. They
untied the cords from his wrists and feet, and set him free.
The next day the king sent Smith home; and several Indians went with
him to protect him from harm.
After that, as long as she lived, Po-ca-hon-tas was the friend of the
white men, and she did a great many things to help them.
GEORGE WASHINGTON AND HIS HATCHET.
When George Wash-ing-ton was quite a little boy, his father gave him a
hatchet. It was bright and new, and George took great delight in going
about and chopping things with it.
He ran into the garden, and there he saw a tree which seemed to say to
him, "Come and cut me down!"
George had often seen his father's men chop down the great trees in
the forest, and he thought that it would be fine sport to see this
tree fall with a crash to the ground. So he set to work with his
little hatchet, and, as the tree was a very small one, it did not take
long to lay it low.
[Illustration]
Soon after that, his father came home.
"Who has been cutting my fine young cherry tree?" he cried. "It was
the only tree of its kind in this country, and it cost me a great
deal of money."
He was very angry when he came into the house.
"If I only knew who killed that cherry tree," he cried, "I would--yes,
I would"--
"Father!" cried little George. "I will tell you the truth about it. I
chopped the tree down with my hatchet."
His father forgot his anger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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