Читать книгу Third Reader: The Alexandra Readers - John Dearness - Страница 7

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A workman plied his clumsy spade

As the sun was going down;

The German king with his cavalcade

Was coming into town.

The king stopped short when he saw the man—

“My worthy friend,” said he,

“Why not cease work at eventide,

When the laborer should be free?”

“I do not slave,” the old man said,

“And I am always free;

Though I work from the time I leave my bed

Till I can hardly see.”

“How much,” said the king, “is thy gain in a day?”

“Eight groschen,” the man replied.

“And canst thou live on this meagre pay?”—

“Like a king,” he said with pride.

“Two groschen for me and my wife, good friend,

And two for a debt I owe;

Two groschen to lend and two to spend

For those who can’t labor, you know.”

“Thy debt?” said the king. Said the toiler, “Yea,

To my mother with age oppressed,

Who cared for me, toiled for me, many a day,

And now hath need of rest.”

“To whom dost lend of thy daily store?”

“To my three boys at school. You see,

When I am too feeble to toil any more,

They will care for their mother and me.”

“And thy last two groschen?” the monarch said.

“My sisters are old and lame;

I give them two groschen for raiment and bread,

All in the Father’s name.”

Tears welled up in the good king’s eyes—

“Thou knowest me not,” said he;

“As thou hast given me one surprise,

Here is another for thee.

“I am thy king; give me thy hand”—

And he heaped it high with gold—

“When more thou needest, I command

That I at once be told.

“For I would bless with rich reward

The man who can proudly say,

That eight souls he doth keep and guard

On eight poor groschen a day.”

—Anonymous.