David's Little Lad

This is the Story within the Story.Yes, I, Gwladys, must write it down; the whole country has heard of it, the newspapers have been full of it, and from the highest to the lowest in the land, people have spoken of the noble deed done by a few Welsh miners. But much as the country knows, and glad and proud as the country is, I don’t think she knows quite all—not exactly what mother and I know; she does not know the heart history of those ten days. This is the story within the other well-known story, which I want to write here.On a certain sunny afternoon in September, 1876, I was seated up in the window of the old nursery. I say in the window, for I had got my body well up on the deep oak seat, had flattened my nose against the pane, and was gazing with a pair of dismal eyes down on the sea, and on some corn-fields and hay-fields, which in panoramic fashion stretched before my vision.Yes, I was feeling gloomy, and my first remark, after an interval of silence, was decidedly in keeping with my face and heart.“Gwen,” I said, “what is it to be buried alive?” Gwen, who was singing her charge to sleep to a lively Welsh air, neither heeded nor heard me.“Gwen!” I repeated in a louder key.“Men are false and oft ungrateful, Derry derry dando,”sang Gwen, rocking the baby, as she sang, in the most dexterous manner.Gwen had a beautiful voice, and I liked the old air, so I stayed my impatient question to listen.“Maids are coy and oft deceitful, Derry derry dando, Few there are who love sincerely, Down a derry down.Say not so, I love thee dearly, Derry derry down down, Derry down down derry.”“None but thee torment and teaze me, Derry derry dando,”I shouted in my impetuous manner, and leaving my seat, I went noisily to her side.“Gwen, I will be heard. I have not another soul to speak to, and you are so cross and disagreeable. What is it to be buried alive?”“’Tis just like you, Gwladys,” said Gwen, rising indignantly. “Just after two hours of it, when I was getting the darling precious lamb off to sleep, you’ve gone and awoke him. Dear, dear! good gracious! there never was such a maid!”Gwen retired with the disturbed and wailing baby into the night nursery, and I was left alone.“None but thee torment and teaze me, Derry derry dando,”I sang after her.fiction, classic, novel, boy, action, adventure, childrenCONTENTSThis is the Story within the Story.David, I am Tired of Tynycymmer.Some Day, you will See that he is Noble.Owen is Coming Home.Why did you Hesitate?Gwen’s Dream.Very New and very Interesting.I said I would do much for these Children.Earth Air Fire Water.Little Twenty.They Talked of Money.You are Changed to me.Pride’s Pit.The Eye-Well.That Man was Owen.The Little Lad.Sight to the Blind.Our Father.A Rich Vein of Coal.The Jordan River.The Lord was not in the Wind.The Lord was not in the Fire.After the Fire—A Still, Small Voice.