“You poor little boy!” she exclaimed, “No one realized that you were really in pain.”

After she had bathed and bandaged the leg and arm, and made Johnnie Jones comfortable, she brought his lunch up to him, and while he was eating, told him this story: 

Once, a long, long time ago, there lived a man whose name has been forgotten.  He lived with other men and their families out in the pasture lands, and there he tended the sheep.  Now a great many wolves lived near by, which often tried to steal into the fold and carry off the sheep.  Everyone kept a close watch for these wolves, and when any person saw one he would cry out, “wolf! wolf!” so that all the others might come to help him destroy it, and save the sheep.  But this first man of whom I told you, liked to call “wolf!” when there was no wolf there, just to frighten or disturb the others.  Sometimes he would waken the men at night by his foolish cry, and they would come running out only to find he had given a false alarm.  At last these men grew weary of answering his calls.  Besides, as there had been no wolves about for some little time, they were feeling quite safe.

One night, when the foolish man was keeping watch over his sheep, he saw in the distance an entire pack of wolves coming steadily toward the fold.  Instantly he raised a loud cry, “Wolf!  Wolf!” and waited for help.

But no help came.

The men heard his cry. but as they did not believe the wolves were really there, they remained in their beds.  One man alone could not defend himself and his sheep against a pack of hungry wolves.  So, next morning, he was found badly injured, and the sheep were gone.  Everyone was sorry for the man, but all knew he could blame only himself.  He had cried “wolf!” too often, when there was no wolf there, and so he was not believed when the wolf came at last.

“Johnnie Jones,” said Mother, when she had finished the story, “you have cried so often when there was no reason for crying, that this one time when you cried because you were really hurt, no one believed you.  I am very sorry for you, little son, but don’t you see that it was no one’s fault but your own?”

* * * * *

Johnnie Jones’s Birthday Party

A few days before Johnnie Jones’s fifth birthday, Mother asked him what he would like to have for a birthday present.

“A party,” he answered immediately, “and I want to invite all the children who live on this street.”

“Very well,” Mother said, “we’ll write the invitations now, on your own note paper.”

Johnnie Jones gave her a joyful hug, and ran to his desk for the paper.  Mother wrote upon every sheet:  “Johnnie Jones will be very glad to have you come to his birthday party, Saturday afternoon, from three until five o’clock.”  She addressed an envelope to each one of his playmates, and Johnnie Jones stamped, sealed and mailed the invitations as soon as they were written.