THE YOUNG MARTYR

On the afternoon of August 9, 1853, a little Norwegian boy, named Kund
Iverson, who lived in the city of Chicago, Illinois, was going to the
pastures for his cow as light-hearted, I suppose, as boys usually are
when going to the pasture on a summer afternoon. He came at length to a
stream of water where there was a gang of idle, ill-looking, big boys;
who, when they saw Kund, came up to him; and said they wanted him to go
into Mr. Elston's garden and steal some apples.

"No," said Kund promptly; "I cannot steal, I am sure."

"Well, but you've got to," they cried.

[Illustration: THE CRIES OF THE DROWNING CHILD GREW FAINTER AND FAINTER]


They threatened to duck him, for these wicked big boys had often frightened
little boys into robbing gardens for them. Little boys, they thought,
were less likely to get found out.

The threat did not frighten Kund, so to make their words good, they
seized him and dragged him into the river, and in spite of his cries and
struggles, plunged him in. But the heroic boy even with the water gurgling
and choking in his throat, never flinched, for he knew that God had said:
"Thou shalt not steal," and God's law he had made his law; and no cursing,
or threats, or cruelty of the big boys would make him give up. Provoked
by his firmness, I suppose, they determined to see if they could conquer
him. So they ducked him again but it still was, "No, no"; and they kept
him under water. Was there no one near to hear his distressing cries,