Now I know what I have to do, and,
when the boys ask me again what is to become of poor Mohammed, I
shall tell them: --I will make of him a prince, a hero, a king.'
Yes, I will speak thus to them, and thus it shall be! And with them
I shall begin! These cowardly boys shall be my subjects, and woe to
them if they do not pay the tribute! O mother, beautiful days are in
store for you!"
"My dear, foolish boy," said the mother, regarding him tenderly,
"you dream of a brilliant future, but it is impossible to realize
this dream. We are poor, and Fortune seldom resides with the poor."
"I will make us rich!" exclaimed the boy; "yes, I will make us rich,
though as yet I know not how I am to do it. But do you know who
shall assist me in doing so?"
"I think I do," replied the mother, smiling, "you will ask your good
friend Mr. Lion?"
Mohammed nodded assent. "Rightly guessed, mother! To him I shall go
and ask him how to begin to become a rich man. Let me do so at once,
my heart is burning to ask this question."
He seized his red cap, pulled it over his brown hair, took leave of
his mother, hurried into the street, and out of the poverty-stricken
little suburb, toward the main thoroughfare, where the wealthy
lived. He walked on, reflecting profoundly over what his mother had
related, and without noticing the boys who were coming toward him.
When they perceived him, they stepped aside as if ashamed to meet
the boy who had excelled and conquered them, slipped into the next
house, closed the door which extended only half-way up the doorway
behind them, and looked out over it.
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