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Updated: June 15, 2025
I wonder if he knows he is all alone: the other boys are nearly at the boundary-line. Yes, he knows it. He stops. He wipes his hot face. He takes off his cap, and looks about him. Better to give up with a good grace. He has made a hundred friends by that hearty, astonished laugh. Good Jacob Poot! The fine fellow is already among the spectators, gazing as eagerly as the rest.
Nicholas! Saint Nicholas! Never can grow old! Pretty gift and loving lesson, Festival and glee, Bid us thank thee as we're sailing O'er the frozen sea. Nicholas! Saint Nicholas! So we sing to thee! Jacob Poot Changes the Plan The last note died away in the distance. Our boys, who in their vain efforts to keep up with the boat had felt that they were skating backward, turned to look at one another.
The Igoumen, smiling with satisfaction, made a short speech to the people. I mounted my horse; the convent bells began to toll as I waved my hand to the assembly, and "Sretnj poot!" The scene was so moving that I could scarcely refrain a tear. Clapping spurs to my horse I cantered over the bridge and gave him his will of the bridle till the steepness of the ascent compelled a slower pace.
Why, we hardly hoped for the honor of meeting you again. Whom were you flying from in such haste?" "Snails," retorted Lambert. "What kept you?" "We have been talking, and besides, we halted once to give Poot a chance to rest." "He begins to look rather worn-out," said Lambert in a low voice. Just then a beautiful iceboat with reefed sail and flying streamers swept leisurely by.
Old Great-grandfather Poot married twice, you see, and I am a descendant of his English wife. I like Jacob, though, better than half of my English cousins put together. He is the truest-hearted, best-natured boy I ever knew. Strange as you may think it, my father became accidentally acquainted with Jacob's father while on a business visit to Rotterdam.
After witnessing this interesting reunion of a regenerated and Christian nation, Mr Paton took leave of the Superior, who parted from him with the words "God be praised that Servia has at length seen the day when strangers come from afar to see and know the people!" and, passing through the double ranks of the peasantry, who took leave of him with the valediction of Srentnj poot!
I could tell you stories which are almost unbelievable of British courage and fortitude. I am coming home soon to give some lectures, and then I hope to come out here again. Bless you, dear Poot, Your loving SARAH. 17 May. I saw a most curious thing to-day. A soldier in the Pavilion St. Vincent showed me five 5-franc pieces which he had had in his pocket when he was shot.
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