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The Golden Cup
The water splashed around John’s feet as he sat fishing under a bridge. This had been his home since his parents had gone missing when he was one year old, and he didn’t have enough money to live in a real house. Suddenly he heard the cloppety-clop of a horse on the bridge above him. “Hullo, what’s this,” he thought, “barely anyone here is rich enough to use a horse.” He decided to see who the person was, and scrambled up to the road. There he saw a judicious government official, astride on a horse. When the government official had gone by, John went back to fishing in the river. Suddenly, he saw something sparkling beside the road. “What’s that?” he wondered, and went over to see what it was. He couldn’t believe his eyes, “It’s a cup made of pure gold!” he exclaimed. “It must have fallen from the government official’s bag.” John quickly stuck it into his pocket, because if anyone saw him with this cup, there were sure to be questions. He then skulked to a small copse behind the mouldering bridge to hide the cup. No one ever went into that copse, because some people had gone truant there, and people believed that there were ghouls living among the trees. Under the trees, there was perpetual darkness, out of which there loomed vague shapes of trees. A melancholy tune whistled through the trees. John hoped sincerely that there were no ghouls, but as he went further into the gloomy darkness, his hopes diminished. Suddenly, he blundered into an old man and, as it was very dark, mistook him for a ghoul. “Please”, John begged, groveling at the man’s feet, “just let me go!”
“Don’t worry; I’m not one of those devious and treacherous ghouls. I’m just an old man who lives beside this copse.”
“But why did you come to this copse, if there are supposed to be ghouls?” John asked. The man replied, “I felt a strange compulsion to come here today, and my compulsions are usually impeccable. Just by the way, what are you doing here?”
“Um, well, I was about to hide this cup here.” John said. “That must belong to someone very wealthy, you should return it to the person it belongs to!” the old man exclaimed. “Okay, okay, I’ll bring it back, but how am I supposed to do that?” John answered reluctantly. “I suggest you go to The White Horse. It’s an inn where most wealthy people stay if they want to stay in these parts.” the man said.
Without saying goodbye, John ran off into the direction of The White Horse. However, it was getting dark, so he lay down by the side of the road and went to sleep. In his dreams, he dreamt that he was arrested for stealing the golden cup, so he was very glad when he finally woke up. “Phew, I’m glad those dreams weren’t true!” he thought to himself, “I sure hope I can find the official on time and give him back his cup. Well, I’d better start walking to the inn now, before it’s too late.” It was a grueling march for John because he hadn’t eaten for a long time, but somehow he managed to get to the inn. The government official was just about to leave when he saw John running towards him, shouting “Stop, don’t go!”
“Who’s this?” the official thought, “I wonder what’s so important.” Finally, John arrived and took out the golden cup. “I think you lost this cup.” John said, breathless. “Where did you find that, I was looking for it all over? It’s the only memory of my son.” the official exclaimed. John answered, “I think it fell out of your bag when you rode over the bridge I live under.”
“Can you tell me your name?” the official asked. “My name is John Patrick.” John answered. As soon as the official heard this, he exclaimed, “John Patrick, that’s the name of my long-lost son! Show me your hand; my son had a birthmark on his hand.” John had the birthmark on his hand, and so he finally found his parents again. They were all overjoyed at seeing each other again, and the golden cup was completely forgotten. John moved from the bridge to his parents house, where he could live normally for the first time in many years.
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