Child abuse -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh!" Raising the big shirt on high, Johnnie disappeared into it, fixing
upon Mr. Perkins as he went a look that was full of anxiety. As he
emerged, his lip was trembling. "You--you don't think I look all right,
do you?" he asked. "Maybe you think I can't ever--you mean I--I can't
be----"
"Oh, nothing of the kind!" laughed Mr. Perkins. "Fact is, Johnnie,
you're way ahead as far as your mind is concerned. I'm mighty pleased
about your reading. I certainly am, old fellow! And in no time you can
get some blood into your cheeks, and cultivate some muscle, and
straighten out your lungs. Once there was a boy who was in worse shape
than you are, because he had the asthma, and could hardly breathe. And
what do you suppose he did?"
"Et lots?" hazarded Johnnie.
"He said he would make over his own body, and he made it over."
"But, Mister Perkins, I'll do it, too! I'll make mine over! Tell me
how!"
"Fresh air, proper breathing, exercises--day after day, that boy never
stopped. And when he grew up, he found himself a strong man even among
very strong men. That was the great American, Theodore Roosevelt."
"Oh, I know about him!" cried Johnnie. "He was President once, and he
was a soldier. Cis knows a girl, and the girl's father, he worked in a
big, stylish hotel, and once he carried Mister Roosevelt's trunk on his
own back! Cis could name the girl, and prove it!"
But Mr. Perkins had no doubt as to the truth of the account. "The motto
of the Boy Scouts is Be Prepared," he went on. "That means, be ready--in
mind and body--to meet anything that happens. Now, as I said a bit ago,
Johnnie, you've got a good brain. And when your body's strong, it'll not
only be a promise of long life for you, but you can defend yourself;
better still, you can protect others."
"Yes, sir!" Johnnie was bubbling with eagerness. "Please let me start
now. Can I? What'll I do first?"
"Bathe," answered Mr. Perkins. "Every day. Scrub yourself from head to
foot. Give your skin a chance to breathe. You'll eat better and sleep
better. You'll pick up."
One, two, three, and the dishes were cleared from the table. Then with
the hall door locked as a precaution, Johnnie spread the oiled
table-cloth on the floor (though Mr. Perkins demurred a little at this),
planted the washtub at the center of the cloth, half filled the tub from
the sink spigot, warmed the water with more from the teakettle, and took
a long-deferred, much-needed rub down. It was soapy, and thorough. And
he proved to himself that he really liked water very much--except,
perhaps, in the region of his neck and ears!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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