And so
well he succeeded that in no time at all she was asleep on his
shoulder. Then he sat down by the roadside, and holding her still in
his arms, began to think.
"There I was a little while ago complaining--no, not quite complaining,
but _almost_--because I hadn't anybody to keep me company. Now I 've
got somebody with a vengeance. She's awful heavy. But, oh, dear! what
a narrow escape I had! I might have run into that bog, and that would
have been a 'pretty how d 'ye do,' as Sarah says. I was so busy
thinking I forgot everything, and ran almost over little Sissy; and
that shows, I s'pose, how without meaning it one can hurt somebody if
one does n't look out."
And then, very carefully, so as not to wake his sleeping charge, he
slipped his hand into his pocket and drew out his rule again.
"What a good friend you are!" he said to it. "I really think you 're
better than any sword or poniard a body could have. You 've saved me
from danger twice now, and--" But here he stared at it in dumb
surprise, for even as he looked he saw appear upon its polished surface
the words,--
Deep is the bog in which they sink
Who ne'er on others' sorrow think;
Deeper the joy in which they rest
Who 've served the weary and distressed.
And, sure enough, he felt so happy he could have sung aloud in spite of
his weariness and fatigue.
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