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diff --git a/38771-h/38771-h.htm b/38771-h/38771-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d46c8a --- /dev/null +++ b/38771-h/38771-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6503 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Little Princess of Tower Hill, by L. T. Meade. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .tocnum {position: absolute; top: auto; right: 10%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Little Princess of Tower Hill, by L. T. Meade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Little Princess of Tower Hill + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: February 5, 2012 [EBook #38771] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF TOWER HILL *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 554px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="554" height="650" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 427px;"> +<img src="images/illus002.jpg" width="427" height="650" alt=""I WILL KNOCK. YOU ARE TO SAY, 'PLEASE IS MRS. ROBBINS +IN?'"—Page 171." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I WILL KNOCK. YOU ARE TO SAY, 'PLEASE IS MRS. ROBBINS +IN?'"—<a href="#Page_171">Page 171.</a></span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF TOWER HILL.</h1> + +<h2><span class="smcap">By</span> L. T. MEADE,</h2> + +<h4><i>Author of "A Sweet Girl Graduate," "The Lady of the Forest," "A World of +Girls," "Polly", "The Palace Beautiful," etc.</i></h4> + +<p class="center"> +SIX PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.<br /> +<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="notes">[Transcriber's note: This book contains the following stories as well: +"Tom, Pepper, and Trusty", "Billy Anderson and his Troubles", "The Old +Organ-Man". The table of contents in the book was only for The Little Princess of Tower +Hill. I have created the table of contents for the other stories.]</p> + + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<p> +THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF TOWER HILL<br /> +<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER I.<br /> +<br /> +Her Very Young Days <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER II.<br /> +<br /> +Father's Short Visitor <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_12'>12</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER III.<br /> +<br /> +Snubbed <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<br /> +The Stable Clock <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER V.<br /> +<br /> +The Empty Hutch <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_49'>49</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<br /> +Jo's Room <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_63'>63</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<br /> +In Violet <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<br /> +Choosing Her Colors <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_103'>103</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<br /> +A Jolly Plan <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_113'>113</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER X.<br /> +<br /> +A Great Fear <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_127'>127</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<br /> +Going Home <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER XII.<br /> +<br /> +In the Wood <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></span><br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +<br /> +Thank God for All <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_165'>165</a></span><br /><br /> + +TOM, PEPPER, AND TRUSTY.<br /><br /> +CHAPTER I. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_173'>173</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER II. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_177'>177</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER III. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_190'>190</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER IV. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_200'>200</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER V. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER VI. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_214'>214</a></span><br /><br /> +BILLY ANDERSEN AND HIS TROUBLES.<br /><br /> +CHAPTER I. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_216'>216</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER II. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_220'>220</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER III. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_228'>228</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER IV. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_237'>237</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER V. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_240'>240</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER VI. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_243'>243</a></span><br /><br /> + +THE OLD ORGAN-MAN.<br /><br /> +CHAPTER I. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_252'>252</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER II. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_258'>258</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER III. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_268'>268</a></span><br /><br /> +CHAPTER IV. <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_273'>273</a></span><br /><br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF TOWER HILL</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>HER VERY YOUNG DAYS.</h3> + + +<p>All the other children who knew her thought Maggie a wonderfully fortunate +little girl. She was sometimes spoken about as the "Little Princess of +Tower Hill," for Tower Hill was the name of her father's place, and Maggie +was his only child. The children in the village close by spoke of her with +great respect, and looked at her with a good deal of longing and also no +slight degree of envy, for while they had to run about in darned and shabby +frocks, Maggie could wear the gayest and daintiest little dresses, and +while they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> to trudge sometimes even on little bare feet, Maggie could +sit by her mother's side and be carried rapidly over the ground in a most +delicious and luxurious carriage, or, better still, she might ride on her +white pony Snowball, followed by a groom. The poor children envied Maggie, +and admired her vastly, and the children of those people who, compared to +Sir John Ascot, Maggie's father, might be considered neither rich nor poor, +also thought her one of the most fortunate little girls in existence. +Maggie was nearly eight years old, and from her very earliest days there +had been a great fuss made about her. At the time of her birth bonfires had +been lit, and oxen killed and roasted whole to be given away to the poor +people, and Sir John and Lady Ascot did not seem at all disappointed at +their baby being a girl instead of a son and heir to the old title and the +fine old place. There was a most extraordinary fuss made over Maggie while +she was a baby; her mother was never tired of visiting her grand nurseries +and watching her as she lay asleep, or smiling at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> her and kissing her when +she opened her big, bright blue eyes. The eyes in question were very +pretty, so also was the little face, and the father and mother quite +thought that there never was such a baby as their little Maggie. They had +christened her Margarita Henrietta Villiers; these were all old family +names, and very suitable to the child of proud old county folk. At least so +Sir John thought, and his pretty young wife agreed with him, and she gave +the servants strict directions that the baby was to be called Miss +Margarita, and that the name was on no account whatever to be abridged or +altered. This was very fine as long as the baby could only coo or make +little inarticulate sounds, but that will of her own, which from the +earliest minutes of her existence Maggie had manifested, came fully into +play as soon as she found the full use of her tongue. She would call +herself Mag-Mag, and would not answer to Margarita, or pay the smallest +heed to any summons which came to her in this guise, and so, simply because +they could not help themselves, Sir John and Lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> Ascot had almost +virtually to rechristen their little daughter, and before she was two years +old Maggie was the only name by which she was known.</p> + +<p>Years passed, and no other baby came to Tower Hill, and every year Maggie +became of a little more importance, and was made a little more fuss about, +and as a natural consequence was a little more spoiled. She was a very +pretty child; her hair was wavy and curly, and exquisitely fine; in its +darkest parts it was nut-brown, but round her temples, and wherever the +light fell on it, it was shaded off to the brightest gold; her eyes were +large, and blue, and well open; her cheeks were pink, her lips rosy, and +she had a saucy, never-me-care look, which her father and mother and the +visitors who saw her thought wonderfully charming, but which now and then +her nurse and her patient governess, Miss Grey, objected to. All things +that money could buy, and all things that love could devise, were lavished +at Maggie's feet. Her smallest wishes were instantly granted; the most +expensive toys were purchased for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> her; the most valuable presents were +given to her day by day. "Surely," said the village children, "there can be +no happier little girl in all the wide, wide world than our little +princess. If there is a child who lives always, every day, in a fairy-land, +it is Miss Maggie Ascot."</p> + +<p>Maggie had two large nurseries to play in, and two nurses to wait upon her, +and when she was seven years old a certain gentle-faced, kind-hearted Miss +Grey arrived at Tower Hill to superintend the little girl's education. Then +a schoolroom was added to her suit of apartments, and then also the +troubles of her small life began. Hitherto everything had gone for Maggie +Ascot with such smoothness and regularity, with such an eager desire on the +part of every one around her not only to grant her wishes, but almost to +anticipate them, that although nurse, and especially Grace, the +under-nurse, strongly suspected that Miss Maggie had a temper of her own, +yet certainly Sir John and Lady Ascot only considered her a somewhat +daring, slightly self-willed, but altogether charming little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the advent, however, of Miss Grey things were different. Maggie had +taken the greatest delight in the furnishing and arranging of her +schoolroom; she had laughed and clapped her hands with glee when she saw +the pretty book-shelves being put up, and the gayly bound books arranged on +them; and when Miss Grey herself arrived, Maggie had fallen quite in love +with her, and had sat on her knee, and listened to her charming stories, +and in fact for the first day or two would scarcely leave her new friend's +side; but when lessons commenced, Maggie began to alter her mind about Miss +Grey. That young lady was as firm as she was gentle, and she insisted not +only on her little pupil obeying her, but also on her staying still and +applying herself to her new duties for at least two hours out of every day. +Long before a quarter of the first two hours had expired, Maggie had +expressed herself tired of learning to read, and had announced, with her +usual charming frankness, that she now intended to run into the garden and +pick some roses.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<img src="images/illus013.jpg" width="392" height="650" alt=""I WANT TO PICK THOSE WHITE ROSES."—Page 6." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I WANT TO PICK THOSE WHITE ROSES."—<a href="#Page_6">Page 6.</a></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want to pick a great quantity of those nice white roses, and some of the +prettiest of the buds, and when they are picked, I'll give them all to you, +Miss Grey, darling," she continued, raising her fearless and saucy eyes to +her governess' face. "Here you go, you tiresome old book," and the new +reading-book was flung to the other side of the room, and Maggie had almost +reached the door before Miss Grey had time to say:</p> + +<p>"Pick up your book and return to your seat, Maggie dear. You forget that +these are lesson hours."</p> + +<p>"But I'm tired of lessons," said Maggie, "and I don't wish to do any more. +I don't mean to learn to read—I don't like reading—I like being read to. +I shan't ever read, I have quite made up my mind. How many roses would you +like, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"Not any, Maggie; you forget, dear, that Thompson, the gardener, told you +last night you were not to pick any more roses at present, for they are +very scarce just now."</p> + +<p>"Well, what are they there for except for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> me to pick?" answered the +spoiled child, and from that moment Miss Grey's difficulties began. +Maggie's hitherto sunshiny little life became to her full of troubles—she +could not take pleasure in her lessons, and she failed to see any reason +for her small crosses. Miss Grey was kind, and conscientious, and +painstaking, but she certainly did not understand the spoiled but +warm-hearted little girl she was engaged to teach, and the two did not pull +well together. Nurse petted her darling and sympathized with her, and +remarked in a somewhat injudicious way to Grace that Miss Maggie's cheeks +were getting quite pale, and that she was certain, positive sure, that her +brain was being forced into over-ripeness.</p> + +<p>"What's over-ripeness?" inquired Maggie as she submitted to her hair being +brushed and curled for dinner, and to nurse turning her about with many +jerks as she tied her pink sash into the most becoming bow—"what's +over-ripeness, nursey, and what has it to say to my brain? That's the part +of me what thinks, isn't it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Maggie dear, and when it's forced unnatural it gets what I call +over-ripe. I had a nephew once whose brain went like that—he died eventual +of the same cause, for it filled with water."</p> + +<p>Maggie's round blue eyes regarded her nurse with a certain gleam of horror +and satisfaction. Miss Grey had now been in the house for three months, and +certainly the progress Maggie had made in her studies was not sufficiently +remarkable to induce any one to dread evil consequences to her little +brain. She trotted down to dinner, and took her usual place opposite her +governess. In one of the pauses of the meal, her clear voice was heard +addressing Sir John Ascot.</p> + +<p>"Father dear, did you ever hear nurse talk of her nephew?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mag-Mag, I can't say I have. Nurse does not favor me with much news +about her domestic concerns, and she has doubtless many nephews."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this is the one who was over-ripe," answered Maggie, "so you'd be +sure to remember about him father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What an unpleasant description, little woman!" answered Sir John; "an +over-ripe nephew! Don't let's think of him. Have a peach, little one. Here +is one which I can promise you is not in that state of incipient decay."</p> + +<p>Maggie received her peach with a little nod of thanks, but she was +presently heard to murmur to herself:</p> + +<p>"I'm over-ripe, too. I quite 'spect I'll soon fill with water."</p> + +<p>"What is the child muttering?" asked Sir John of his wife; but Lady Ascot +nodded to her husband to take no notice of Maggie, and presently she and +her governess left the room.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Lady Ascot to Sir John, when they were alone, "Miss Grey +says that our little girl is determined to grow up a dunce—she simply +won't learn, and she won't obey her; and I often see Maggie crying now, and +nurse is not at all happy about her."</p> + +<p>"Miss Grey can't manage her; send her away," pronounced the baronet +shortly.</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, she seems a very nice, good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> girl. I have really no reason +for giving her notice to leave us—and—and—John, even though Maggie is +our only little darling, I don't think we ought to spoil her."</p> + +<p>"Spoil her! Bless me, I never saw a better child."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, she is all that is good and sweet to us, but she ought to be +taught to obey her governess; indeed, I think we must not allow her to have +the victory in this matter. If we sent Miss Grey away, Maggie would feel +she had won the victory, and she would behave still more badly with the +next governess."</p> + +<p>"Tut! tut!" said Sir John. "What a worry the world is, to be sure! Of +course the little maid must be taught discipline; we'd none of us be +anywhere without it; eh, wife? I'll tell you what, Maggie is all alone; she +needs a companion. I'll send for Ralph."</p> + +<p>"That is a good idea," replied Lady Ascot.</p> + +<p>"Well, say nothing about it until I see if my sister can spare him. I'll go +up to town to-morrow, and call and see her. Ralph will mold Maggie into +shape better than twenty Miss Greys."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>FATHER'S SHORT VISITOR.</h3> + + +<p>Ralph's mother was a widow. She had traveled on the Continent for a long +time, but had at last taken a small house in London. Sir John intended week +after week to go and see his sister, and week after week put off doing so, +until it suddenly dawned upon him that Ralph's society might do his own +little princess good. Sir John told his wife to say nothing to Maggie about +her cousin's visit, as it was quite uncertain whether his mother would +spare him, and he did not wish the little maid to be disappointed. Maggie, +however, was a very sharp child, and she was much interested in sundry +mysterious preparations which were taking place in a certain very pretty +bedroom not far from her own nurseries. A little brass bedstead, quite new +and bright,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> was being covered with snowy draperies; and sundry articles +which girls were not supposed to care about, but which, nevertheless, +Maggie looked at with eyes of the deepest veneration and curiosity, were +being placed in the room; among these articles might have been seen some +cricket-bats, a pair of boxing-gloves, a couple of racket-balls, and even a +little miniature gun. The little gun was harmless enough in its way; it had +belonged to Sir John when a lad, but why was it placed in this room, and +what did all these preparations mean? Maggie eagerly questioned Rosalie, +the under-housemaid, but Rosalie could tell her nothing, beyond the fact +that she was bid to make certain preparations in the room, and she supposed +one of master's visitors was expected.</p> + +<p>"He must be a very short man," said Maggie, laying herself down at full +length on the little white bed, and measuring the distance between her feet +and the bright brass bars at the bottom; "he'll be about half a foot bigger +than me," and then she scampered off to Miss Grey.</p> + +<p>"Father's visitor's room is all ready," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> said. "How tall should you +think he'd be, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, Maggie, how can I tell? If the visitor is a man, he'll be sure to +be somewhere between five feet and six feet; I can't tell you the exact +number of inches."</p> + +<p>"No, you're as wrong as possible," answered Maggie, clapping her hands. +"There's a visitor coming to father, and of course he's a man, or he +wouldn't be father's visitor, and he's only about one head bigger than me. +He's very manly, too; he likes cricket, and racket, and boxing, and firing +guns. His room is full of all those 'licious things. Oh, I wish I was a man +too. Miss Grey, darling, how soon shall I be growed up?"</p> + +<p>"Not for a long, long time yet. Now do sit straight, dear, and don't cross +your legs. Sit upright on your chair, Maggie, like a little lady. Here is +your hemming, love; I have turned down a nice piece for you. Now be sure +you put in small stitches, and don't prick your finger."</p> + +<p>These remarks and these little injunctions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> always drew a deep frown +between Maggie's arched brows.</p> + +<p>"Sewing isn't meant for rich little girls like me," she said. "I'm not +going to sew when I grow up; I know what I'll do then. I know quite well; +when I'm tired I'll sit in an easy-chair and eat lollipops, and when I'm +not tired I'll ride on all the wildest horses I can find, and I'll play +cricket, and fire guns, and fish, and—and—oh, I wish I was grown up."</p> + +<p>Miss Grey, who was by this time quite accustomed to Maggie's erratic +speeches, thought it best to take no notice whatever of her present +remarks. Maggie would have liked her to argue with her and remonstrate; she +would have preferred anything to the calm and perfect stillness of the +governess. She was allowed to talk a little while she was at her hemming, +and she now turned her conversation into a different channel.</p> + +<p>"Miss Grey," she said, "which do you think are the best off, very rich +little only children girls, or very poor little many children girls?"</p> + +<p>"Maggie dear," replied her governess, "you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> are asking me, as usual, a +silly question. The fact of a little girl being rich and an only child, or +the fact of a little girl being poor and having a great many brothers and +sisters, has really much less to do with happiness than people think. +Happiness is a very precious possession, and sometimes it is given to +people who look very pale and suffering, and sometimes it is denied to +those who look as if they wanted for nothing."</p> + +<p>"That's me," said Maggie, uttering a profound sigh. "I'm rich and I want +for nothing, and I'm the mis'rable one, and Jim, the cripple in our +village, is poor, and he hasn't got no nice things, and he's the happy one. +Oh, how I wish I was Jim the cripple."</p> + +<p>"Why, Maggie, you would not surely like to give up your dear father and +mother to be somebody else's child."</p> + +<p>"No, of course not. They'd have to be poor too. Mother would have to take +in washing and father—I'm afraid father would have to put on ragged +clothes, and go about begging from place to place. I don't think Jim, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +cripple, has any father, but I couldn't do without mine, so he'd have to be +a beggar and go about from place to place to get pennies for mother and me. +We'd be darling and poor, and we couldn't afford to keep you, Miss Grey, +and I wouldn't mind that at all, 'cause then I need never do reading and +hemming, and I'd be as ignoram as possible all my days."</p> + +<p>Just at this moment somebody called Maggie, and she was told to put on her +out-door things, and to go for a drive with her mother in the carriage.</p> + +<p>Maggie was a very sharp little girl, and she could not help noticing a +certain air of expectancy on Lady Ascot's face, and a certain brightening +of her eyes, particularly when Maggie, in her usual impetuous fashion, +asked eager questions about the very short gentleman visitor who was coming +to stay with father.</p> + +<p>"He's not four feet high," said Maggie. "I am sure I shall like him +greatly; he'll be a sort of companion to me, and I know he must be very +brave."</p> + +<p>"Why do you know that, little woman?" asked Lady Ascot in an amused voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +"Oh, 'cause, 'cause—his gun, and his fishing-tackle, and his boxing-gloves +have been sent on already. Of course he must be brave and manly, or father +would have nothing to say to him. But as he's only three inches taller than +me, I'm thinking perhaps he'll be tired keeping up with father's long +steps, when they go out shooting together; and so perhaps he will really +like to make a companion of me."</p> + +<p>"I should not be surprised, Maggie—I should not be the least surprised, +and now I'm going to tell you a secret. We are going at this very moment to +drive to Ashburnham station to meet father and his gentleman visitor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Maggie, "and do you know the visitor? Have you seen +him before? What is his name?"</p> + +<p>"His name is Ralph, and though I have heard a great deal about him, it so +happens I have never seen him."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ralph," repeated Maggie, softly; "it's a nice short name, and easy to +remember. I think Mr. Ralph is a very good name indeed for father's little +tiny gentleman visitor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>All during their drive to Ashburnham Maggie chattered, and laughed, and +wondered. Her bright little face looked its brightest, and her merry blue +eyes quite danced with fun and happiness. No wonder her mother thought her +a most charming little girl, and no wonder the village children looked at +the pretty and beautifully dressed child with eyes of envy and admiration!</p> + +<p>When they reached Ashburnham station, Lady Ascot got out of the carriage, +and taking Maggie's hand in hers, went on the platform. They had scarcely +arrived there before the train from London puffed into the station, and Sir +John Ascot was seen to jump out of a first-class smoking carriage, +accompanied by a brown-faced, slender-looking boy, whose hands were full of +parcels, and who began to help Sir John vigorously, and to indignantly +disdain the services of the porter, and of Sir John's own groom, who came +up at that moment.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you; I wish to hold these rabbits myself," he exclaimed, "and +my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> pigeons. Uncle John, will you please hand me down that cage? Oh, aren't +my fantails beauties!"</p> + +<p>"Mother," exclaimed Maggie in a low, breathless voice, "is that the +gentleman visitor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, darling, your cousin Ralph Grenville. Ralph is your visitor, Maggie, +not your father's. Come up and let me introduce you. Ralph, my dear boy, +how do you do? I am your aunt. I am very glad to see you. Welcome to Tower +Hill!"</p> + +<p>"Are you Aunt Beatrice?" answered the brown-faced boy. "How do you do, Aunt +Beatrice? Oh, I do hope my fishing-tackle is safe."</p> + +<p>"And this is your Cousin Maggie," proceeded Lady Ascot. "You and Maggie +must be great friends."</p> + +<p>"Do you like fantails?" asked Ralph, looking full at his little cousin.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean those darling white birds in the cage?" answered Maggie, her +cheeks crimsoning.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 387px;"> +<img src="images/illus029.jpg" width="387" height="650" alt=""I CAUGHT HIM MY OWN SELF."—Page 21." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I CAUGHT HIM MY OWN SELF."—<a href="#Page_21">Page 21.</a></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes; I've got some pouters at home, but I only brought the fantails here. +I hope you've got a nice pigeon-cote at Tower Hill. Oh, my rabbits, my +bunnies! Help me, Maggie; one of them has got loose; help me, Maggie, to +catch him."</p> + +<p>Before either Sir John or Lady Ascot could interfere, the two children had +disappeared into a crowd of porters, passengers, and luggage. Lady Ascot +uttered a scream of dismay, but Sir John said coolly:</p> + +<p>"Let them be. The little lad has got his head screwed on the right way; and +if I don't mistake, my pretty maid can hold her own with anybody. Don't +agitate yourself, Bee; they'll be back all right in a moment."</p> + +<p>So they were, Maggie holding a huge white rabbit clasped against her +beautiful embroidered frock. The rabbit scratched and struggled, but Maggie +held him without flinching, although her face was very red.</p> + +<p>"I caught him my own self," she screamed. "Ralph couldn't, 'cause his hands +were too full."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pop him into this cage now," exclaimed the boy. "Uncle John, has a +separate trap come for all the luggage? and if so, may I go home in it? I +must watch my bunnies, and I should like to keep the fantails on my lap."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, Ralph," replied Sir John Ascot in an amused voice. "I have no +doubt the dog-cart has turned up by now. Do you think you can manage to +stick on, my boy? The mare is very fresh."</p> + +<p>"I stick on? Rather!" answered Ralph. "You may hold the cage with the +bunnies, if you like, while I step up, Jo—Maggie, I mean."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to go up there, too, father," whispered little Miss Ascot's full +round tones.</p> + +<p>"No, no, bairnie," answered the baronet. "I don't want your pretty little +neck to be broken. There, hop into the carriage beside mother, and I'll get +in the dog-cart to keep this young scamp out of mischief. Now then, off we +go. We'll all be at home in a twinkling."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>SNUBBED.</h3> + + +<p>When the children met next it was at tea-time. There was a very nice and +tempting tea prepared in Maggie's schoolroom, and Miss Grey presided, and +took good care to attend to the wants of the hungry little traveler. Ralph +looked a very different boy sitting at the tea-table munching +bread-and-butter, and disposing of large plates of strawberries and cream, +from what he did when Maggie met him at Ashburnham station. He was no +longer in the least excited; he was neatly dressed, with his hair well +brushed, and his hands extremely clean and gentlemanly. He was polite and +attentive to Miss Grey, and thanked her in quite a sweet voice for the +little attentions which she lavished upon him. Maggie was far too excited +to feel hungry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> She could scarcely take her round blue eyes off Ralph, +who, for his part, did not pay her the smallest attention. He was +conversing in quite a proper and grown-up tone with the governess.</p> + +<p>"Do you really like flat countries best?" he said. "Ah! I suppose, then, +you must suffer from palpitation. Mother does very much—she finds sal +volatile does her good; did you ever try that? When I next write to mother, +I'll ask her to send me a little bottle, and when you feel an attack coming +on, I'll measure some drops for you. If you take ten drops in a little +water, and then lie down, you don't know how much better you'll get. Thank +you, yes, I'll have another cup of tea. I like a good deal of cream, +please, and four or five lumps of sugar; if the lumps are small, I don't +mind having six. Well, what were we talking about? Oh, scenery! I like +hilly scenery. I like to get on the top of a hill, and race down as fast as +ever I can to the bottom. Sometimes I shout as I go—it's awfully nice +shouting out loud as you're racing through the air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> Did you ever try that? +Oh, I forgot; you couldn't if you suffer from palpitation."</p> + +<p>"I like steep mountains, and flying over big precipices," here burst from +Maggie. "I hate flat countries, and I don't think much of running down +little hills. Give me the mountains and the precipices, and you'll see how +I'll scamper."</p> + +<p>Ralph raised his eyebrows a tiny bit, smiled at Maggie with a gentle pity +in his face, and then, without vouchsafing any comment to her audacious +observations, resumed his placid conversation with the governess.</p> + +<p>"Mother and I have been a good deal in Switzerland, you know," he +continued, "so of course we can really judge what scenery is like. I got +tired of those great mountains after a bit. I'm very fond indeed of +England, particularly since I have spent so much of my time with Jo. Do you +know my little friend Jo, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Ralph, I cannot say I do. Is he a nice little boy? Is he about +your age?"</p> + +<p>Ralph laughed, but in a very moderate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> "I beg your pardon," he exclaimed. +"I hope you were not hurt when I laughed. Mother says it's very rude to +laugh at a grown-up lady, but it seemed so funny to hear you speak of Jo as +a boy. She's a girl, quite the very nicest girl in the world; her real name +is Joanna, but I call her Jo."</p> + +<p>Here Maggie, who, after Ralph's ignoring of her last audacious observation, +had been getting through her tea in a subdued manner, brightened up +considerably, shook back her shining curls, and said in a much more gentle +voice than she had hitherto used:</p> + +<p>"I should like to see her."</p> + +<p>"You!" said Ralph. "She's not the least in your style. Well, I've done my +tea. Have you done your tea, Miss Grey? And may I leave the table, please? +I should like to have a run around the place before it gets dark."</p> + +<p>"And may I come with you?" asked Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Mag! Come along."</p> + +<p>Ralph held out his hand, which Maggie took with a great deal of gratitude +in her heart, and the two children went out together into the sweet summer +air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ralph first of all inspected his pigeons, and then his rabbits. He grumbled +a good deal over the arrangements made for the reception of his pets, and +informed Maggie that the hutch for the rabbits was but small and close, and +that the dove-cote must be altered immediately, and that he would take care +to speak to his Uncle John about it in the morning.</p> + +<p>Maggie agreed with every word Ralph said. She, too, pronounced the hutch +small and dirty, and said the dove-cote must be altered, and while she +echoed her cousin's sentiments, she felt herself quite big and important, +and turned away from the rather smiling eyes of Jim, the stable-boy, who +was in attendance on the pair.</p> + +<p>The children then proceeded to the stable, where Maggie's pretty snow-white +pony was kept.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Ralph, "I wish you could see my horse. My horse is black, and +rather bigger than this, and he has an eye of fire and such a beautiful +glossy, arched neck. I can tell you it is worth something to see Raven. +Yes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> Maggie, Snowball is rather a nice little pony, and very well suited +for you, I should imagine."</p> + +<p>"I don't like him much," said Maggie, who until this moment had adored her +pet. "I like flashy, frisky horses. I like them fresh, don't you, Ralph?"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense!" said Ralph rather pertly. "Now where shall we go?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ralph, I should like to show you my garden. I dare say father will +give you a little garden near mine if we ask him. I'm building a rockery. I +don't work in my garden very often, 'cause it's rather tiresome, but I like +building my rockery, and when we go to the seaside, I shall gather lots of +shells for it. Come, Ralph, this is the way."</p> + +<p>"Never mind to-night," said Ralph. "Here is a nice seat on this little +mossy bank. If you like to sit by me, Maggie, we can talk."</p> + +<p>Maggie was only too pleased. Ralph stretched himself on the soft velvety +grass, put his hands under his head, and gazed up at the sky; Maggie took +care to imitate his position in all particulars. She also put her hands +under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> her head, and gazed through her shady hat up at the tall trees where +the rooks were going to sleep.</p> + +<p>That night the rather spoiled little princess of Tower Hill lay awake for +some time. It was very unusual for Maggie to remain for an instant out of +the land of dreams. The moment she laid her curly head on the pillow she +entered that pleasant country, and, as a rule, she stayed there and enjoyed +delightful times with other dream-children until the morning. On the +present occasion, however, sleep did not visit her so quickly; she was +disturbed by the events of the day. Ralph was a very new experience in her +little life; she thought of all he had said to her, of how he had looked, +of his extreme manliness, his fearlessness, and his great politeness to +Miss Grey. Maggie owned with a half-sigh that there was nothing at all +particularly gracious in Ralph's manners to her.</p> + +<p>"But I like him all the better for that," she thought. "He treats me as an +equal; most likely half the time he forgets that I'm a girl,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> and believes +that I'm a boy like himself. I wish I were a boy! Wouldn't it be jolly to +climb trees, and fish, and go out shooting with father! I'd be a great +comfort to Ralph if I were a boy, but I'm not; that's the worst of it. How +I do wish my pony was black, and was called Raven! I think I'll ask father +to sell Snowball; he's rather a fat, stupid little horse. Ralph's horse has +an eye of fire. How splendid he must be! I wonder if Jo has got a horse +too, and if it is black, and if its eyes flash. Jo must be a splendid girl. +How Ralph did look when he spoke of her! I wish I knew her! Ralph talks of +her as if she were as good as a boy. I dare say she climbs trees, and +fishes, and shoots. I should like Ralph to talk of me as he talks of Jo."</p> + +<p>At this stage of Maggie's meditations her bright eyes closed very gently, +and she remembered nothing more until the morning.</p> + +<p>The sun shone brightly into her room when she awoke; she had been dreaming +about Jo. She sprang up instantly, and began to dress herself. This feat +she had never accomplished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> before in her life. Two servants, as a rule, +waited on the little princess when she made her toilet, but now, with a +vivid dream of the manly Jo in her mind, and with some vague ideas that she +would please Ralph if she were up very bright and early, she proceeded to +tumble into her cold bath, and then, after an untidy fashion, to scramble +into her clothes. At last her dressing was completed, she knelt down for a +moment by her bedside to utter a very hasty little childish prayer, and +then ran softly out of her bedroom. She certainly did not know how early it +was, but as there was no one stirring in the house, and as she did not wish +nurse to find her and to call her back, and perhaps pop her once more into +bed, she went on tiptoe along the passages until she reached her Cousin +Ralph's bedroom door. She opened the door and went in. The large window of +Ralph's bedroom exactly faced his little white bed; the blind of the window +was up to the top, and the full light of the morning sun shone directly on +the little sleeper's face. Oh, how delightful! thought Maggie. Ralph was +still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> sound, sound asleep; she was the good one now, for Ralph was +decidedly lazy. She went softly to the bedside and gazed at her cousin. His +arms were thrown up over his head; he was lying on his back, and breathing +softly and easily. Ralph had a handsome little face, and it looked gentle +and sweet in his slumbers. The dauntless expression of his dark eyes, and +the somewhat scornful and hard way in which he looked when he addressed +himself to Maggie, were no longer perceptible. Maggie had a loving little +heart, and it went out to her stranger cousin now.</p> + +<p>"I hope some day he'll like me as well as he does Jo," she murmured, and +then she bent down and printed the lightest of light kisses on his +forehead.</p> + +<p>"Bother those flies," muttered Ralph, raising his hand to brush the +offending kiss away. This remark caused Maggie to burst into a peal of +laughter, and of course her laugh aroused the young sleeper.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm up," said Maggie, dancing softly up and down. "I'm up, and I'm +dressed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> I'm ready to go into the garden. Don't you think it's very +good of me to get up so early? Don't you think I'm about as good as that Jo +of yours?"</p> + +<p>Ralph had recovered from his first surprise, and now he gazed tranquilly at +his little cousin.</p> + +<p>"What's the hour?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Maggie said, "I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd better find out," responded Ralph; "it feels very early. My +watch is on the dressing-table. Do you know the time by a watch yet? If you +can read it, you may, and tell me the hour. How untidily you have dressed +yourself!"</p> + +<p>Maggie felt herself growing very red when Ralph asked her if she could tell +the hour by a watch. The fact was, she could not; she had always been too +lazy to learn. She went in a faltering way to the dressing-table, feeling +quite sure in her little heart that Jo knew all about watches, and that if +she revealed her ignorance to Ralph, he would despise her for the rest of +her life. Just at this moment, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> relief came, for the stable clock +was heard to strike very distinctly. It struck four times.</p> + +<p>"It's four o'clock," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and what a muff you are!" answered Ralph. "Four o'clock! Why, it's +the middle of the night. Good-night, Maggie. Please go away, and shut the +door after you."</p> + +<p>"Then you're not getting up?" questioned the little cousin wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Getting up? No, thank you, not for many an hour to come. Good-night, +Maggie. I don't want to be rude, but you really are a little worry coming +in and waking me in this fashion."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE STABLE CLOCK.</h3> + + +<p>It was rather desolate standing at the other side of Ralph's door in the +passage. There was plenty of light in the passage, but no sunshine, and +Maggie felt her excitement cooling down and her heart beating tranquilly +again. All that delightful energy and zest which she had shown when +dressing herself, which she had felt when she had danced into her cousin's +room, had forsaken her. She walked slowly back to her own little chamber, +wondering what she had better do now, and thinking how very disagreeable it +was to be spoken of as "a muff." Was it really only the middle of the +night, and had she better just ignominiously undress herself and go back to +bed?</p> + +<p>No; she would not do that. It was horrid to think of Ralph sound and +happily asleep,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> and of nurse asleep, and father and mother also in the +land of dreams. Maggie felt quite forlorn, and as if she were alone in the +world. But at this moment a thrush perched itself on a bough of clematis +just outside the window, and sang a delicious morning song. The little +princess clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"The birdies are up!" she exclaimed. "I expect lots of delightful creatures +are up in the garden. I'll go into the garden. Perhaps, after all, Ralph is +more of a muff than me."</p> + +<p>She swung her garden hat on her head, and ran softly and quickly +downstairs. All the doors were barred and locked; the place felt intensely +still and strange; but Maggie found egress through a small side window, +which she easily opened; and, once in the garden, her loneliness and +sadness vanished like magic. She laughed aloud, and ran gayly hither and +thither. The butterflies were out, the birds were having a splendid morning +concert, and the flowers were opening their petals and taking their morning +breakfast from the sunshine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! Ralph is the muff, and I am the good one, after all!" exclaimed +Maggie aloud. She ran until she was tired, then went into an arbor at one +end of a long grass walk, and sat down to rest herself. In a moment the +most likely thing happened—she fell asleep. She slept in the arbor, with +her head resting on the rustic table, until the stable clock struck six; +that sound awoke her. She rubbed her drowsy eyes and looked around. Jim, +the boy who had smiled the night before when he saw Maggie and Ralph +talking together, passed the entrance to the little arbor at this moment +with a bag of tools slung over his shoulder. Maggie called to him:</p> + +<p>"Jim, come here; aren't you surprised? I'm up, you see."</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Maggie!" exclaimed the astonished stable-boy, "you a sitting in +the arbor at this hour, miss! Oh, dear! oh, dear! ain't you very cold, +missie? And was you overtook with sleep, and did you spend the night here? +Why, I 'spect your poor pa and ma were in a fine fright about you, Miss +Maggie."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, do, they are not," answered Maggie, shaking herself, and running up to +Jim, and taking hold of one of his hands. "They know nothing at all about +it, Jim. They are all in their beds, every one of them, sound, fast asleep. +Even my new Cousin Ralph is asleep. He said I was a muff, but I 'spect he +is. Isn't it 'licious being up so bright and early, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no, missie, I don't think it is. I likes to lie in bed uncommon +myself, so I do. I 'ates getting up of a morning, Miss Maggie; and whenever +I gets a holiday, don't I take it out in my bed, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you poor Jim!" said Maggie in a very compassionate tone. "I didn't +know bed was thought such a treat; I don't find it so. Well, Jim, I'm glad, +anyhow, you're obliged to be up this morning, 'cause you and me, we can be +company to one another. I'm going with you into the stable-yard now."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but, missie, I has to clean out Snowball's stable, and get another +stable ready for Master Ralph's pony Raven, and that's all work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> that a +little lady could have no call to mix with. I think, missie, if I was you, +I'd go straight back to my bed, and have another hour or two before Sir +John and her ladyship are up."</p> + +<p>But Maggie shook her head very decidedly over this proposition.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "I'm going to the stable-yard; I'm going to look at +Snowball. I don't think very much of Snowball; I think he'll have to be +sold."</p> + +<p>Jim opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows a trifle at this proof of +inconstancy on Maggie's part, but he thought fit to offer no verbal +objection, and the two walked together in the direction of the stables. +Here the large stable clock attracted the erratic little maid's attention; +she suddenly remembered the dreadful feeling of shame which had swept over +her when Ralph had asked her to tell him the hour. She had earnestly wished +at that moment that she had been a good child, and had learned how to tell +the time when Miss Grey offered to teach her. It would never do for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> Ralph +to discover her deficiency in this matter. Perhaps Jim could teach her. She +turned to him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Jim, do you know what o'clock it is?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, missie, of course; it's a quarter-past six."</p> + +<p>"Oh! how clever of you, Jim, to know that. Did you find it out by looking +up at the stable clock?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, Miss Maggie; there it is in front of us. You can see for +yourself."</p> + +<p>Maggie's face became very grave, and her eyes assumed quite a sad +expression.</p> + +<p>"I want to whisper something to you, Jim," she said. "Stoop down; I want to +say it very, very low. I don't know the clock time."</p> + +<p>Jim received this solemn secret in a grave manner. He was silent for a +moment; then he said slowly:</p> + +<p>"You can learn it, I suppose, Miss Maggie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, dear Jim; and you can teach me."</p> + +<p>Jim began to rumple up his hair and to look perplexed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I—oh! that's another thing," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can, Jim; and you must begin right away. There's a big, round +white thing, and there are little figures marked on it; and there are two +hands that move, 'cause I've watched them; and there's a funny thing at the +bottom that goes tick-tick all the time."</p> + +<p>"That's the pend'lum, Miss Maggie."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the pend'lum," repeated Maggie glibly. "I'll remember that word; I +won't forget. Now, go on, Jim. What's the next thing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's the two 'ands, miss; the little 'and points to the hours, +and the big 'un to the minutes."</p> + +<p>"It sounds very puzzling," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"So it is, miss; so it is. You couldn't learn the clock not for a score of +days. I took a week of Sundays over it myself, and I'm not to say dull. The +clock's a puzzler, Miss Maggie, and can't be learned off in a jiffy, +anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, but, Jim, Ralph mustn't find out; he mustn't ever find out that I +don't know it. It would be quite dreadful what Ralph would think of me +then; he wouldn't ever, ever believe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> that I could turn out as well as Jo. +You don't think Jo such a wonderful girl, do you, Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Miss Maggie; I don't think nothing at all about her. I'd better +get to my work now, miss."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you must teach me something about the old clock, just to make +Ralph s'pose I know about the hour."</p> + +<p>"Well, miss, you can talk a little bit about the pend'lum, and the big 'and +and the little 'un, and you can say that you think the stable clock is +fast; it is that same, miss, and that will sound very 'cute. Now I must go +to my sweeping. William will be round almost immediately, and he'll be ever +so angry if I have nothing done, so you'll please to excuse me, miss."</p> + +<p>Maggie left the stable-yard rather discontentedly.</p> + +<p>It was not yet half-past six, and breakfast would not be on the table for +two long hours. What should she do? After all, perhaps she was a muff to +get up in the middle of the night;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> perhaps she was the silly one, and +Ralph, so snug and rosy and comfortable in his little bed, was the wise and +good one. Some things very like tears came to Maggie's bright blue eyes as +she turned back again to the garden, for she was beginning to feel a little +tired, and oh! very, very hungry. She wondered if Jo ever got up at four +o'clock in the morning, and if Ralph had ever called Jo a muff; but of +course he had not. Jo was doubtless one of those unpleasant model little +girls about whom nurse sometimes spoke to her on Sunday: little girls who +always did at once what their old nurses told them, who never rumpled their +pinafores, nor made their hair untidy, nor soiled their clean hands, but +walked instead of running, and smiled instead of laughing. Nurse had spoken +over and over of these dear little lady-like misses. These little girls +delighted in doing plain needlework, and were intensely happy when they +conquered a fresh word in their reading, and they always adored their +governesses, and were rather sorry when holiday time came. When nurse spoke +about these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> children, Maggie usually interrupted her vehemently with the +exclamation. "I hate that proper good little girl!" and then nurse's small +twinkling brown eyes would grow full of suppressed fun, and she would +passionately kiss her spoiled darling.</p> + +<p>Maggie, as she walked through the garden, where the dew was still +sparkling, quite made up her mind that Jo belonged to this unpleasant order +of little maids, and she determined to dislike her very much. As she was +sauntering slowly along she passed a small narrow path which led into a +shrubbery; directly through the shrubbery was another path, which branched +out in the direction of Maggie's neglected garden; suppose she went and did +a little weeding in her garden; or no, suppose she did what would be much +more enchanting, suppose she paid a visit to Ralph's rabbits! Ralph had +complained the night before of the hutch where his pets had been put; he +had grumbled at its not being bright enough, and large enough, and clean +enough. Suppose Maggie went and furbished it up a little, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> looked at +Ralph's pets, and gave them some lettuce leaves to eat.</p> + +<p>In a moment she had flown through the shrubbery, had passed the little +neglected garden and the half-finished rockery, and was kneeling down by +the hutch where Ralph's rabbits had made for themselves a new home.</p> + +<p>There they were, two beautiful snow-white creatures, with long silky hair, +and funny bright red eyes, and pink noses. They had not a black hair on +either of their glossy coats. Ralph had said they were very valuable +rabbits, and because of the extreme purity of their coats he had called +them Lily and Bianco. Maggie, too, thought them lovely; she bent close to +the bars of the hutch and called them to her, and tried to stroke their +noses through the little round holes. Bianco was very tame, but Lily was a +little shy, and kept in the background, and did not allow her nose to be +rubbed. Maggie showered endearing names on her; no pet she had ever +possessed herself seemed equal to Ralph's snow-white rabbits. After playing +with them for a little she ran<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> into the kitchen garden to fetch some +lettuce leaves, and with a good bundle in her arms returned to the +rabbit-hutch. At so tempting a sight even Lily lost her shyness, and +pressed her nose against the bars of her cage, and struggled to get at the +tempting green food.</p> + +<p>"They shall come out and eat their breakfasts in peace and comfort, the +darlings!" exclaimed Maggie. "Here, I'll make a nice pile of it just by +this tree, and I'll open the door, and out they'll both come. While they +are eating I can be cleaning the hutch. What a nice useful girl I am, after +all! I expect Ralph will think I'm quite as good as that stupid old Jo of +his. Come along, Bianco pet; here's your dear little breakfast ready for +you. Oh, you darling, precious Lily! you need not be afraid of me. I would +not hurt a hair of your lovely coat."</p> + +<p>Open went the door of the hutch, and out scampered the two white rabbits. +They bounded in rabbit fashion toward the green lettuces, and when Maggie +saw them happily feeding, she turned her attention to the hutch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, this is not a proper hutch," she said to herself. "It's not large +enough, nor roomy enough, nor handsome enough. I don't wonder at poor Ralph +being put out—he felt he was treated shabby. I must speak to father about +it. There must be a new hutch made as quick as possible. Well, I had better +clean this one while the dear bunnies are at their breakfast. I'll see if I +can get some fresh straw. I'll run round to the yard and try if I can pull +some straw out of one of the ricks. I really am most useful. Good-by, +Bianco and Lily; I'll be back with you in a moment, dear little pets."</p> + +<p>The rabbits did not pay the slightest heed to Maggie's loving words. It is +to be feared that, beautiful as they were in person, they possessed but +small and selfish natures; they liked fresh lettuces very much, and when +they had eaten enough they looked around somewhat shyly, after the manner +of timid little creatures. The whole place represented a strange world to +them, but as there was not a soul in sight, they thought they might +explore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> this new land a little. Bianco bounded on in front, and looked +back at Lily; Lily scampered after her companion. In a short time they +found themselves on the boundary of a green and shady and pleasant-looking +wood. In this wood doubtless abounded those many good and tempting things +to which rabbits as a race are partial. They went a little further, and +lost themselves in the soft green herbage. When Maggie returned to the +rabbit-hutch, with her arms full of straw and her rosy cheeks much flushed, +Bianco and Lily were nowhere to be seen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>THE EMPTY HUTCH.</h3> + + +<p>At breakfast that morning Lady Ascot noticed how tired Maggie looked—her +blue eyes were swollen as if she had been crying, her pretty cheeks were +very red, and she did not come to table with at all her usual appetite. +Maggie always breakfasted with her father and mother. She also had her +early dinner at their lunch, but her own lunch and tea she took in the +schoolroom with Miss Grey. Miss Grey was now present at the +breakfast-table, and so also was Ralph. Ralph was a very slight and thin +boy, with a dark face and bright eyes. He looked uncommonly well this +morning, remarkably neat in his person, and altogether a striking contrast +to poor disheveled little Maggie. Maggie felt afraid to raise her eyes from +her plate. When her mother noticed her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> fatigue and languor, she knew that +Ralph's quizzical and laughing gaze was upon her, and that his lips were +softly moving to the inaudible words:</p> + +<p>"Little muff, she got up in the middle of the night! She got up in the +middle of the night!"</p> + +<p>Maggie would have been quite saucy enough, and independent enough, to be +indifferent to these remarks of Ralph's, and perhaps even to pay him back +in his own coin, but for the loss of the rabbits. Bianco and Lily were +gone, however; the hutch was empty; it was all the little princess' fault, +and, in consequence, her versatile spirits had gone down to zero. With all +her faults—and she had plenty—Maggie was far too honest a child to think +of concealing what she had done from her cousin. She meant to tell him, but +she had dreaded very much going through her revelation, and she felt that +his contempt and anger would be very bitter and hard to bear. Maggie always +sat next her father at breakfast, and he now patted her on her hot cheeks, +looked tenderly at her, and piled the choicest morsels on her plate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The little maid does not look quite the thing," Sir John called across the +table to his wife. "I think we must give her a holiday. Miss Grey, you +won't object to a holiday, I am sure, and Ralph and Maggie will have plenty +to do with one another."</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir," here burst from Ralph, "do you mind coming round with +me after breakfast and seeing to the accommodation of the rabbits and +pigeons? I think my rabbits want a larger and better hutch, if you please, +Uncle John."</p> + +<p>"All right, my boy, we'll see about them," replied the good-natured uncle. +"Hullo, little maid, what is up with you—where are you off to?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't want any breakfast. I'm tired," said Maggie, and before her +father could again interrupt her she ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>Her heart was full, there was a limit to her endurance; she could not go +with Sir John and her Cousin Ralph to look at the empty hutch. She wondered +what she should do; she wished with all her heart at this moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> that +Ralph had never come, that he had never brought those tiresome and +beautiful rabbits to tempt her to open the door of their prison, and so +unwittingly set them free. She ran once more into the garden, and went in a +forlorn manner into the shrubbery; she had a kind of wild vain hope that +Bianco and Lily might be tired of having run away, and might have returned +to their new home. She approached the rabbit-hutch; alas! the truants were +nowhere in sight; she stooped down and looked into the empty home; and just +at this moment voices were heard approaching, the clear high voice of her +boy cousin, accompanied by Sir John's deeper tones. Maggie had nothing for +it but to hide, and the nearest and safest way for her to accomplish this +feat was to climb into a large tree which partly over-shaded the +rabbit-hutch. Maggie could climb like any little squirrel, and Sir John and +Ralph took no notice of a rustling in the boughs as they approached. Her +heart beat fast; she crouched down in the green leafy foliage, and hoped +and trusted they would not look up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> There was certainly no chance of their +doing that. When Ralph discovered that his pets were gone, he gave vent to +something between a howl and a cry of agony, and then, dragging his uncle +by the arm, they both set off in a vain search for the missing pets—Bianco +and Lily. No one knew better than poor Maggie did how slight was their +chance of finding them. She wondered if she might leave her leafy prison, +if she would have time to rush in to nurse or mother before Ralph came +back. She thought she might try. It would be such a comfort to put her head +on mother's breast and tell the story to this sympathizing friend. She had +just made the first rustling in the old tree, preparatory to her descent, +when Sir John's portly form was seen returning. He was coming back alone, +and, after a fashion he had, was saying aloud:</p> + +<p>"Very strange occurrence. 'Pon my word, quite mysterious. Whoever did open +the door of the hutch? Surely Jim would not be so mischievous! I must +question him, and if I think the young rascal is telling me a lie, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +shall go—yes, he shall go. I won't be humbugged. And Ralph, poor lad! It's +a disgrace to have my sister's son annoyed in this way on the very first +morning of his visit. Why, hullo, Maggie, little woman! What are you doing +up there?"</p> + +<p>"I'm coming down if you'll just wait a minute, father," called down Maggie. +"Oh, please, father, stand close under the tree, and don't let Ralph see +us. I'm coming down as hard as ever I can. There, please stretch up your +hand, father; when I catch it I'll jump."</p> + +<p>"Into my arms," said Sir John, folding her tight in a loving embrace. "My +darling, you are not well. You are all trembling. What is the matter, +little woman?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, father; only I wanted to speak to you so badly, and I didn't want +Ralph to hear. I heard you say that perhaps Jim did it, and you'd send him +away. 'Twasn't Jim, 'twas me. I'm miserable about it—'twas all me, +father."</p> + +<p>"All you? Mag-Mag, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I let them out, father. I gave poor Bianco<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> and Lily some nice lettuce +leaves just here under the tree. See, they have not quite finished what I +gave them. While they were feeding I thought I'd clean the hutch to please +Ralph, and I ran round to the hay-rick for some fresh hay, and when I came +back Bianco and Lily were gone. I spent all the time before breakfast +looking for them, but I couldn't see them anywhere. Poor Jim had nothing to +do with it, father. I did see Jim this morning. I think he's an awfully +good boy. Father, Jim had nothing to do with opening the door of the +hutch—it was all me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Maggie, so it seems. Ah! here comes Ralph himself. Now, my dear +little maid, you really need not be frightened. I'll undertake to break the +tidings to Master Ralph. You were a good child to tell me the truth, +Maggie."</p> + +<p>"I can't find them anywhere, uncle," called back Ralph, in his high voice. +"Who could have been the mischievous person? Don't you think it was very +wicked, Uncle John, for any one to open my hutch door? I expect some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> thief +came and stole them. I suppose you are a magistrate, Uncle John; I hope you +are, and that you'll have a warrant issued immediately, so that the person +who stole my Bianco and Lily may find themselves locked up in prison. Why, +if that is not Maggie standing behind you. How very, very queer you look, +Maggie!"</p> + +<p>Sir John laid his hand on Ralph's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, my lad," he said, "this poor dear little maid of mine has +come to me with a sad confession. It seems that she is the guilty person. +She gave your rabbits something to eat, and let them out in order that they +might enjoy their meal the better. Then it occurred to her to get some +fresh hay for the hutch, and while she was away Bianco and Lily took it +into their heads to play truants. You must forgive Maggie, Ralph; she meant +no harm. If the rabbits are not found I can only promise to get you another +pair as handsome as money can buy."</p> + +<p>While his uncle was speaking Ralph's face had grown very white.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't want any other rabbits, thank you, Uncle John," he said. "It was +poor little Jo gave me Bianco and Lily, and I was fond of them; other +rabbits would not be the same."</p> + +<p>"I only hope, Ralph, your pets will be found. I shall send a couple of men +to search for them directly. In the mean time, you must promise me not to +be angry with my poor little girl; she meant no harm."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not angry," said Ralph; "most girls are muffs; Jo isn't, but then +she's not like other people." He turned on his heel and sauntered slowly +away.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to say how the affair of the rabbits would have terminated, +and how soon Maggie would have been taken back into Ralph's favor, but just +then, on the afternoon of that very day in fact, an event occurred which +turned every one's thoughts into a fresh channel.</p> + +<p>Lady Ascot received a telegram announcing the dangerous illness of her +favorite and only sister—it was necessary that she and Sir John should +start that very night for the North to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> see her. The question then arose. +What was to become of the two children?</p> + +<p>"Send us to mother, of course," promptly said Ralph.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" exclaimed Sir John; "why, I declare if it isn't a good thought. +Violet wouldn't mind having you both on a visit for a fortnight or so, and +Miss Grey could go with you, so that your mother need have no extra +trouble. Remember, Ralph, you are bound to us for the summer, my boy, and +we only lend you to your mother for a few days. You quite understand?"</p> + +<p>"Lend me to mother; no, I'm sure I don't understand that," said Ralph. "Oh! +Maggie," he exclaimed suddenly, in all his old brightest manner, "if we go +to London, you'll see Jo!"</p> + +<p>"I'll go off this very moment and telegraph to my sister," said Sir John; +"the children and Miss Grey can start to-morrow morning. It's all arranged. +It is a splendid plan."</p> + +<p>In five minutes the plan was made which was to exercise so large an +influence over little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> Maggie, which was, in short, completely to alter her +life. Sir John sent off his telegram, and in the course of the afternoon +his sister, Mrs. Grenville, replied to it. She would be ready to receive +Ralph and Maggie the next day, and would be pleased also to have Miss Grey, +Maggie's governess, accompany the children. Maggie had never seen London; +and Ralph became eloquent with regard to its charms.</p> + +<p>"It will be delightful for you," he said; "of course I am rather tired of +it, for I have been everywhere and seen all the sights, but it will really +be very nice for you. You are young, you know, Maggie, and you'll have to +go to the places where quite the little children are seen; Madame Tussaud's +is one, and the Zoological Gardens is another. Oh, won't it be fun to see +you jumping when the lions roar!"</p> + +<p>At these words of Ralph's Maggie turned rather pale, and perceiving that he +had made an impression, he proceeded still further to work on her feelings, +describing graphically the scene at the Zoo when the lions are fed, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +cruel glitter in the eyes of the hungry beasts, and the awful sound which +they make when they crush the great bones of meat provided for them.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't go too near their cages," said Ralph; "nobody knows how strong +a lion is; and though the cages are made with very large bars of iron, yet +still——" Here Ralph made an expressive pause.</p> + +<p>Maggie opened her blue eyes, remained quite silent for a moment, for she +did not wish Ralph to suppose that she was really afraid of the lions, and +then she said softly:</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to the Zoo—at least not at first. I'm going to do my +lessons with Miss Grey in the hours when the lions are fed. I know it's +very good of me, but I'm going to be good, 'cause I am so sorry about your +rabbits, Ralph."</p> + +<p>"So you ought to be," said Ralph, turning red; "but weeks and weeks of +being sorry won't bring them back. When people do very careless and +thoughtless things, being sorry doesn't mend matters. You ask mother, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +she'll explain to you. But please don't say anything more about Bianco and +Lily. I want to know what you mean by saying that you'll do your lessons at +the hour the lions are fed. You do your lessons at the hour that most suits +Miss Grey, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Maggie nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I'm going to please poor Miss Grey too; I'm going to be +very good."</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Grey won't like to be kept at home in the afternoons teaching +you your lessons—she'll like to be out amusing herself in the afternoon. I +call that more thoughtlessness. You'll have to do your lessons in the +morning, and the lions are fed at three o'clock, so that excuse won't +serve."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to the Zoo," continued Maggie, who began to feel decidedly +worried. "If Miss Grey wants to be out in the afternoon, I'll go to Madame +Tussaud's then. I don't like that Zoo, and I'm not fond of lions; but I +expect Madame Tussaud's must be a nice sort of place."</p> + +<p>"Oh—oh—oh," said Ralph, beginning to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> jump about on one leg; "you see the +chamber of horrors before you make up your mind whether it's a nice sort of +place or not. Why, at Madame Tussaud's you always have your heart in your +mouth because you don't know whether the wax figures are alive or not; and +you are always saying, 'I beg your pardon;' and you are always knocking up +against people whom you think are alive and want to speak to you, when they +are only big wax dolls; and whenever you give a little start and show by +your face that you have made a mistake, the real live people laugh. I can +tell you, Maggie, you have to mind your p's and q's at Madame Tussaud's."</p> + +<p>"I won't go," said Maggie; "I need not go unless I like;" and then she +walked out of the room, beginning seriously to debate in her poor little +mind on the joys of having a playmate, for Ralph contrived at every turn to +make her feel so very small.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>JO'S ROOM.</h3> + + +<p>It was well for Maggie that Ralph was a very different boy when with his +mother and when without her. When the children arrived in London and found +themselves in Mrs. Grenville's pretty bright house in Bayswater, Ralph flew +to the sweet-looking young mother who came up to meet them, clasped his +arms round her neck, laid his head on her shoulder, and instantly a +softened and sweet expression came over his dark and somewhat hard little +face. Mrs. Grenville was very much like her brother, so that prevented +Maggie being shy with her. She also petted the little girl a great deal, +and, as a matter of course, took more notice of her than of Ralph. Mrs. +Grenville also spoke about the Zoo and Madame Tussaud's, but she contrived +to make these two places of entertainment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> sound quite delightful to her +little visitor. Instead of dwelling on their horrors she spoke of their +manifold and varied charms, until Maggie's eyes sparkled, and she said in +her quick, excitable way:</p> + +<p>"I'll go there with you, Aunt Violet; I'd like to go to both of those +places with you."</p> + +<p>Aunt Violet read between the lines here, and gave Ralph a quick little +glance which he pretended not to see.</p> + +<p>The next morning Mrs. Grenville asked Miss Grey to allow Maggie to have a +holiday.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow she will begin her lessons regularly," continued the lady. "Of +course by this time such a tall girl can read and write nicely, and I shall +like to inclose a little letter from her to her mother; but to-day the +children and I mean to be very busy together. Ralph, as you are older, and +as you know most about London, you shall choose what our amusement shall +be."</p> + +<p>Maggie felt herself turning first red and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> white when Mrs. Grenville +spoke of her reading and writing accomplishments, but Miss Grey was +merciful and made no comment, and as Ralph had not yet been made acquainted +with the poor little princess' profound ignorance, she trusted that her +secret was safe.</p> + +<p>"Mother," here eagerly burst in Ralph, "of course the very first thing we +must do is to go and see Jo. Shall I go round to see Jo this morning, +mother, and may I take Maggie with me? I think it would do Maggie lots of +good to see a girl like Jo."</p> + +<p>"Jo would do any one good," responded Mrs. Grenville. "It is a kind +thought, Ralph, and you may carry it out. If you and Maggie like to run +upstairs and get ready now, I will send Waters round with you, and I will +call for you myself at Philmer's Buildings at twelve o'clock. After all, I +should like to take Maggie myself to the Zoo—I want her to see the monkeys +and the birds, and she shall have a ride on one of the elephants if she +likes. As to the lions, dear," continued Mrs. Grenville, looking kindly at +the little girl, "you shall not see them feed unless you like."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't mind seeing them feed if you are with me," whispered back Maggie; +but just then Ralph called to her imperiously, and she had to hurry out of +the room.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you glad that you are going at last to see my dear little Jo?" +exclaimed the boy. "Now do hurry, Mag; get yourself up nice and smart, for +Jo does so admire pretty things."</p> + +<p>Maggie made no response, but went slowly into her little bedroom.</p> + +<p>In her heart of hearts she was becoming intensely jealous of this wonderful +Jo. She was putting her in the same category with those unpleasant little +girls who liked needlework, and were exceedingly proper and good, and +belonged to that tiresome class of little models of whom nurse was so fond +of speaking. Maggie had borne patiently all Ralph's rhapsodies over this +perfect little Jo, but quite a pang went through her heart when she heard +Mrs. Grenville also praise her.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go," she said as Miss Grey helped her to put on her boots, +and took out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> her neat little jacket and pretty shady hat from their +drawers.</p> + +<p>"Not want to go?" said the governess. "Oh, surely you will like the walk +with Ralph this lovely morning, Maggie?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't," said Maggie. "I don't want to see Jo; I'm sure she's a +horrid good little girl; she's like nurse's Sunday go-to-meeting girls, and +I never could bear them."</p> + +<p>Miss Grey could not help smiling slightly at Maggie's eager words.</p> + +<p>"I remember," she said after a pause as she helped to put the little girl's +sash straight, "when I was a child about your age, Maggie, I often amused +myself making up pictures of people before I had seen them. I generally +found that the pictures were wrong, and that the people were not at all +like what I had fancied them to be."</p> + +<p>Maggie pondered over this statement; then she said solemnly:</p> + +<p>"But I know about Jo—I'm quite sure that my picture of Jo isn't wrong. She +wears a white pinafore, and there are no spots on it, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> her hair is so +shiny—I 'spect there is vaseline on her hair—and her nails are neat, and +her shoes are always buttoned, and—and—and—she's a horrid good little +girl—and I don't like her—and I never will like her."</p> + +<p>"Maggie! Maggie!" shouted Ralph from below, and Maggie, with a nod at Miss +Grey, and the parting words, "I know all about her," rushed out of the +room, danced down the stairs, and holding her cousin's hand, and +accompanied by the sedate Waters, set out on their morning walk.</p> + +<p>It was Maggie's first walk in London, and the children and maid soon found +themselves crossing Hyde Park, coming out at one of the gates at the +opposite side from Mrs. Grenville's pretty house, and then entering a +crowded thoroughfare. Here Waters stepped resolutely between the little +pair, took a hand of each, and hurried them along. Ralph carried a small +closed basket in his hand, and Maggie wondered what it contained, and why +Ralph looked so grave and thoughtful, and why he so often questioned Waters +as to the contents of a square box which she also carried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You took great care of that box while I was away, Waters?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, Master Ralph; it always stood on the mantelpiece in my +mistress' room, and I dusted it myself most regularly."</p> + +<p>"And do you really think it's getting heavy, Waters?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you were away exactly two nights and two days, and that means, +by the allowance of one penny a day given to you, two pennies more in the +money-box. It's two pennies heavier than it was, sir, when you left us, and +that's all."</p> + +<p>Ralph sighed profoundly.</p> + +<p>"Time goes very slowly," he said. "How I wish I had more money, and that +when I had it I didn't spend it so fast. Well, perhaps Jo has managed about +the tambourine after all. If there is a good manager, Jo is one. Oh, here +we are at last!"</p> + +<p>The children and Waters had turned into a shabby-looking street, and were +now standing before a block of buildings which looked new and tolerably +clean. Unlike any ordinary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> house Maggie had ever seen, this one appeared +to possess no hall door, but was entered at once by a flight of stone +stairs. The children and the servant began to ascend the stairs, and Maggie +wondered how many they would have to go up before they reached the rooms +where the little girl in the spotless pinafore with the white hands and the +smoothly vaselined hair resided. Maggie was rather puzzled and disconcerted +by the bare look of the stone stairs, and also by the somewhat anxious and +grave expression on Ralph's face. She was unacquainted with that kind of +look, and it puzzled her, and she began dimly to wonder if Miss Grey was +right, and her picture of Jo was untrue.</p> + +<p>At last they stopped at a door, which was shut, and which contained some +writing in large black letters on its yellow paint. Maggie could not read, +but Ralph pointed to the letters, and said joyfully:</p> + +<p>"Here we are at last!"</p> + +<p>The words on the door where these: "Mrs. Aylmer, Laundress and Charwoman," +but Maggie,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> of course, was not enlightened by what she could not +understand.</p> + +<p>Waters knocked at the door; a quick, eager little voice said, "Come in." +There was the pattering of some small feet, the door was flung wide open, +and Maggie, Ralph, and Waters found themselves inside Jo's room.</p> + +<p>That was the first impression the room gave; it seemed to belong to Jo; +Jo's spirit seemed to pervade it all over. Mrs. Aylmer, laundress and +charwoman, might own the room and pay the rent for it, but that made no +difference—it was Jo's.</p> + +<p>Who was Jo? Maggie asked herself this question; then she turned red; then +she felt her lips trembling; then she became silent, absorbed, fascinated. +The picture she had conjured up faded never to return, and the real Jo took +its place.</p> + +<p>Jo was the most beautiful little girl Maggie had ever seen—she had fluffy, +shining, tangled hair; her pale face was not thin, but round and smooth; +each little feature was delicate and chiseled; the lips were little +rosebuds; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> eyes had that serene light which you never see except in the +faces of those children who have been taught patience through suffering. Jo +was a sadly crippled little girl lying on a low bed. Maggie, of course, had +seen poor children in the village at home; but those children had not been +ill; they were rosy and hearty and strong. This child looked fragile, and +yet there was nothing absolutely weak about her. At the moment when Ralph +and Maggie entered Jo was keeping school; two twin boys were standing by +her bedside, and listening eagerly to her instructions.</p> + +<p>"No, no, Bob," she was saying, "you mustn't do it that way; you must do it +more carefully, Bob, and slower. Now, shall we begin again?"</p> + +<p>Bob tried to drone something in a monotonous sing-song, but just then the +visitors' faces appeared, and all semblance of school vanished on the spot. +Ralph poured out a whole string of remarks. The contents of the money-box +were emptied on Jo's bed, and the exciting question of Susy's tambourine +came under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> earnest discussion. If Susy had a proper tambourine she could +use her rather sweet voice to advantage, and earn money by singing and +dancing in the streets. Susy was ten years old—a thick-set little girl +with none of Jo's transparent beauty. Sixpence had been already collected +for the coveted musical instrument; Ralph's box contained eightpence, but, +alas! the tambourine on which Susy had set her heart could not be obtained +for a smaller sum than half a crown.</p> + +<p>"They are not worth nothing for less than that," she exclaimed; "they makes +no sound, and when you sings or dances with them, your voice don't seem to +carry nohow. No, I'd a sight rayther wait and have a good one. Them cheap +'uns cracks, too, when they gets wet. Here's sixpence and here's +eightpence; that makes one shilling and two pennies. Oh! but it do seem as +if it were a long way off afore we see our way to 'arf a crown."</p> + +<p>Here Susy, whose face had been radiant, became suddenly depressed, and +Maggie felt a lump in her throat, and an earnest, almost passionate,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> wish +to get hold of her father's purse-strings.</p> + +<p>"Now come and talk to Jo," said Ralph, drawing his little cousin forward. +"We need not say any more about the tambourine to-day; I'm saving up all my +money; I earn a penny every day that I'm good, and I'll give my penny to +Susy for the present, so she'll really have the half-crown by and by. Now, +Jo, this is my Cousin Maggie; I've told her about you. She lives down in +the country; she doesn't know much, but then that's not to be wondered at. +She was very naughty and careless too about my rabbits; she has asked me to +forgive her, and of course I haven't said much; it wouldn't be at all manly +to scold a girl; but you are really the one to forgive her, Jo, for the +rabbits were yours before they were mine."</p> + +<p>"What, Bianco and Lily?" answered Jo, the pink color coming into her little +face. "Oh, missie, wasn't they beautiful and white?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<img src="images/illus085.jpg" width="388" height="650" alt=""NOW, JO, THIS IS MY COUSIN MAGGIE."—Page 74." title="" /> +<span class="caption">"NOW, JO, THIS IS MY COUSIN MAGGIE."—<a href="#Page_74">Page 74.</a></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, and they're lost," said Maggie; "'twas I did it. I opened the door of +their little house, and they ran out, and went into a wood, and none of us +could find them since. Ralph said it was you gave them to him, and he +doesn't really and truly forgive me, though he pretends he does. I was +sorry, but I won't go on being sorry if he doesn't really and truly forgive +me."</p> + +<p>To this rather defiant little speech of Maggie's Jo made a very eager +reply. She looked into the pretty little country lady's face, right +straight up into her eyes, and then she said ecstatically:</p> + +<p>"Oh, ain't I happy to think as my beautiful darling white Bianco and Lily +has got safe away into a real country wood! Oh, missie, are there real +trees there, and grass? and I hopes, oh, I hopes there's a little stream."</p> + +<p>"Yes, there is," said Maggie, "a sweet little stream, and it tinkles away +all day and all night, and of course there are trees, and there's grass. +It's just like any other country wood."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad," said Jo; "I can picter it. In course I has never seen it, +but I can picter it. Trees, grass, and the little stream a-tinkling, and +the white bunnies ever and ever so happy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> Yes, missie, thank you, missie; +it's real beautiful, and when I shuts my eyes I can see it all."</p> + +<p>Jo had said nothing about forgiving Maggie; on the contrary, she seemed to +think her careless deed something rather heroic, Ralph raised his dark +brows, fidgeted a little, and began to look at his cousin with a new +respect. At this moment Mrs. Grenville's footman came up to say that the +carriage was waiting for the children; so Maggie's first visit to Jo was +over.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>IN VIOLET.</h3> + + +<p>Maggie and Ralph spent a very happy afternoon at the Zoo. The best of Ralph +always came to the surface when he was with his mother, and he was also +impressed by Jo's remarks about her rabbits. Was it really true that Maggie +had done a beautiful deed by giving his white and pretty darlings their +liberty in a country wood? How Jo's eyes shone when she spoke, and how +ecstatically she looked at the little princess! Ralph was a great deal too +much of a boy, and a great deal too proud to make any set speech of +forgiveness to Maggie, but he determined on the spot to restore her to his +favor. He ceased to be condescending, and greeted her more as a little +hail-fellow-well-met. Maggie rejoiced in the change. Mrs. Grenville was her +brightest and most agreeable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> self; the lions on near acquaintance proved +more fascinating than dreadful, and on their way home Maggie pronounced in +favor of the Zoo, said she would certainly like to go there again, and +thought that on the whole it must be a nicer place than Madame Tussaud's, +where, according to Ralph's account, unless you visited the chamber of +horrors there were only large and overgrown dolls to be seen.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said Maggie to her cousin as they sat in the most amiable +manner side by side at their tea that evening, "I wonder why Susy cares to +go out into the streets and sing and play a funny little tambourine. She +can't be at all shy to sing before a lot of people; can she, Ralph?"</p> + +<p>Ralph stared hard at Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Don't you really know what she does it for?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I suppose for a kind of play," said Maggie, opening her eyes a little.</p> + +<p>Ralph stamped his foot impatiently. "A kind of play!" he repeated. "I was +beginning to respect you. I forgot how ignorant you are,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> Poor Susy goes +out and plays the tambourine and dances and sings because she wants +pennies—pennies to buy bread for Jo and for herself, and for Ben and Bob. +No, of course you can't know! Susy wants the tambourine not to play with, +but because she's hungry."</p> + +<p>Ralph spoke with great energy; Maggie's little round sweet face became +quite pale; she dropped the delicious bread-and-butter and marmalade which +she was putting to her lips, and remained absolutely silent.</p> + +<p>"Must the tambourine cost half a crown?" she asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Ralph; "didn't you hear her say so? She knows best what it +ought to cost."</p> + +<p>Maggie wished she were not such a dunce, that she could read a little and +write a little, and that she had some slight knowledge of figures. Hitherto +she had been shy of revealing any of her great ignorance to Ralph, but now +her intense longing to know how many pennies were in half a crown made her +ask her cousin the question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ralph assured her carelessly that there were thirty pennies in that very +substantial piece of money.</p> + +<p>"It will take a long time to collect," he said, sighing deeply. "Poor Susy +will have to have plenty of patience, for I know Jo can't help her, and +she'll have to depend on me. I earn a penny a day when I'm good. I +generally am good when I'm with mother. It was quite different at Tower +Hill, for you annoyed me a good deal, Maggie, but I've made up my mind to +say nothing more on that subject. I dare say you, too, will try to be a +good girl when you're with mother. Well, what was I saying? Oh! about +Susy's pennies. With what I gave her and what Jo collected she has got +fourteen. Take fourteen from thirty, how much is left, Maggie? Of course +you know, so I need not tell you. All that number of days poor Susy will +have to wait, however hungry she is. There, we have finished our tea, let's +go up to the drawing-room to mother now. Isn't mother sweet? Did you ever +see any one—any one so nice?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I saw my own mother, and she's a lot nicer," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>Ralph's eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>"I like that," he said; "why, every one says the same thing about my +mother, that she's the very, very nicest lady in the world. Oh, I say, +Maggie, where are you——" But his little cousin had disappeared.</p> + +<p>The facts were these. The events of her first day in London had worked up +poor little Maggie's feelings to a crisis. She had been excited, she had +been pleased, she had been greatly surprised. All the old tranquil life in +the midst of which she had moved, knowing all the time that she was its +center, that she, the little princess, was the beloved object for whom most +things were done, for whom treats were prepared and delights got ready—all +this old life had vanished, and Maggie was nothing more than little Maggie +Ascot, an ignorant child, a dunce who could not even reckon figures or read +a word of the queen's English, or have any pennies in her purse. Maggie was +only the little cousin whom Ralph rather despised,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> who was nobody at all +in his estimation compared to Jo—Jo, who was so humble, and so very poor. +Maggie's feelings had been greatly moved about Jo and Susy; she had longed +beyond words to put the necessary number of pennies into Susy's hand, and +to tell her to go out and buy that tambourine, on which her heart was set, +without a moment's delay. She had wished this when she only supposed that +Susy wanted the tambourine to amuse herself. How much more now did she long +to get it for her, when Ralph had assured her that Susy's need was so great +that she wished for the tambourine in order that she might earn money to +buy bread! When Ralph said this Maggie felt a lump rising in her throat, +and her own healthy childish appetite failing her—even then she felt +inclined to rush away and cry; but when Ralph added to this his somewhat +slighting remarks about the mother whose arms Maggie did so long to feel +round her, the little princess could bear her feelings no longer, and +rushed upstairs to sob out her over-full heart.</p> + +<p>It was not Miss Grey who found Maggie in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> the dark in her little room, but +the good-natured Waters, who after all knew far more about children than +the somewhat inexperienced governess. Waters wasted no time in asking the +little girl what was the matter, but she lifted her into a very motherly +embrace, and soothed and petted her with many loving words. Maggie thought +Waters a most delicious person, and soon wiped away her tears, and began to +smile once again. Waters was judicious enough to ask no questions about the +tears, and, when they were over, to forget that they ever existed. She took +Maggie into her mistress' room, and made her sit on the bed, and showed her +some of Ralph's childish toys. It occurred to Maggie as she sat there that +Waters would not be nearly such a dreadful person as most others to confide +in. She was intensely anxious to gain some information, and she resolved to +trust Waters.</p> + +<p>"May I tell you something as a great, tremendous secret?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Maggie, that's as you please," replied the servant. "I can only +tell you one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> thing—that what's confided to me is a secret from that day +forward, and no mistake. What's the color to keep a secret in, Miss Maggie? +In violet. That's where I keeps it, and so it's sure to be safe."</p> + +<p>Maggie laughed and clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"Waters, I think you're a darling!" she said, "and I will trust you. I +don't suppose you ever heard of any one so ignorant as me. I'll be eight +years old before very long, and I can't read, and I can't write, and I +can't put figures together. I can't even tell the time, Waters—I can't, +really."</p> + +<p>While Maggie was speaking, Waters kept gazing at her with a most perfectly +unmoved countenance.</p> + +<p>"Bless the child!" she said presently. "Well, Miss Maggie dear, where's the +secret I'm to keep inviolate?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's it, Waters; the secret is that I don't know nothing—nothing +at all."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll learn, dearie," said Waters; "you'll learn all in good time. +You're nothing but a young child, and you has lots and lots of years before +you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Maggie did not at all consider herself very young. There were one or two +babies in the village at home, just beginning to toddle, who were really +juvenile; but she, Maggie Ascot, who could run and jump and skip, and even +ride!—it was really rather silly to speak of her as a very young child. +However, now she was so soothed by "Waters' gentle words and Waters' +petting that she could find no fault with any remark made to her by that +worthy person. On the contrary, she cuddled up to her and stroked her +cheek, and felt relieved at the unburdening of her secret.</p> + +<p>"I didn't learn to read till I was a good bit older than you," said Waters. +"I don't mean that I'm an example for any dear little lady to follow, for I +never could abide a bookworm. I don't take to it now. I only learned +because my mother said it was a shame to have a great big girl who could +neither spell nor write. My tastes always lay in the needlework line. Since +I was a little tot I was forever with a bit of sewing in my hand; I'd hem, +and I'd back-stitch, and I'd top-sew whenever I had the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> chance. Why, I +mind me of the time when I unpicked one of my father's old shirts just for +the pleasure of putting it together again, and didn't mother laugh when she +saw what I was after! Plain needlework was my line, Miss Maggie, and maybe +it's yours too, dearie."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it isn't!" said Maggie, opening her blue eyes with quite a gleam +of horror in them. "I hate plain sewing worser even than I do reading; I +hate it even worser than my figures. Plain sewing pricks, and it worries +me. I hate it more than anything."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, dearie, you're in the pricking stages yet; I went through +that, same as another. You'll come to learn the comfort of it, for of all +the soothers for poor worrited women, there's nothing at all in my opinion +like needle and thread."</p> + +<p>Maggie was beginning to find this turn in the conversation rather +unintelligible, so she brought Waters back to the subject which most +interested her by asking if she had also found the study of figures very +good for the worries, and if she would let her know how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> many pennies Susy +must have to make up the half-crown.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that little Susy Aylmer?" said Waters. "I don't approve of no child +going out to sing in the streets. However, it isn't for me to interfere, +and Mrs. Aylmer is as honest and hard-working a body as ever walked, and +that little Jo is a real angel, and as the poor things must live somehow, +why, I suppose Susy had better sing. Master Ralph is saving up his pennies, +and he'll give them all to her as sure as sure, so you has no call to put +yourself out about it, Miss Maggie."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I don't want her to wait," said Maggie. "She has nothing to eat, +and she'll be so dreadfully, dreadfully hungry. She has got fourteen +pennies, and she can't get anything to eat until she has thirty. Oh, +Waters! if you do know figures, please tell me how many days poor Susy must +live without any food until she has got the thirty pennies."</p> + +<p>Waters laughed.</p> + +<p>"Things won't be as bad as that for Susy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> Aylmer," she said. "She is a +sturdy little piece, and I don't believe she denies herself much; don't you +fret about her, Miss Maggie darling."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what is the difference between fourteen and thirty?" insisted +Maggie. "Ralph only gets a penny a day; how many days will have to pass +before Susy gets the thirty pennies?"</p> + +<p>"She has fourteen now," said Waters; "well—well, it is something of a +poser; I never had much aptitude in the figure line, Miss Maggie. Fourteen +in hand, thirty to make up; well—well, let's try it by our fingers. Ten +fingers first, five on each hand. Bear that in your mind, Miss Maggie. Add +ten to fourteen, makes twenty-four; come now, I'm getting on, but that +isn't thirty, is it, darling? Try the fingers again; five more fingers +makes twenty-nine, and one—why, there we are—thirty. Ten, five, and one +make sixteen. There, Miss Maggie, sixteen pennies more she'll have to get."</p> + +<p>Just at this moment Mrs. Grenville entered the room, and Maggie's +conversation with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> good-natured lady's maid was brought to an abrupt +conclusion.</p> + +<p>The next morning Maggie awoke out of a profound sleep, in which she had +been dreaming of Jo as turned into a real angel with wings, and of Susy as +playing on the most perfect tambourine that was ever invented. The little +girl awoke out of this slumber to hear the unfamiliar London sounds, and to +sit up in bed and rub her sleepy eyes. The hours kept at Mrs. Grenville's +were not so early as those enjoyed at Tower Hill. Maggie was tired of lying +in bed; she was occupying a tiny room which led out of Miss Grey's, and she +now jumped up and went to the window. What was her amazement to see just +under the window, walking leisurely across the road, one of the objects of +her last vivid dream, Susy Aylmer herself! Susy's very stout little form +was seen crossing the street and coming right up to the Grenvilles' house. +Maggie was charmed to see her, and took not an instant in making up her +mind to improve the occasion. She knocked violently on the pane, but her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +room was too high up for even Susy's quick ears to discern this signal, and +she then, in her little blue dressing-gown, rushed through Miss Grey's +room, and ran as fast as her small feet would carry her down the stairs, +down and down until she reached the front hall. There were no servants in +the hall, but the chain had already been taken off the hall door, and +Maggie had no difficulty in slipping back the bolt. She opened the door and +stood on the steps.</p> + +<p>"Susy! Susy! Susy!" she screamed.</p> + +<p>Susy at this moment was receiving what indeed she came for every morning—a +good supply of broken bread and meat from Mrs. Grenville's cook. Mrs. +Grenville allowed the cook to give these things to Mrs. Aylmer, and Susy +was generally sent to fetch them. She was much amazed to see the pretty +little country lady calling to her so vehemently; she was also delighted, +and came to the foot of the hall-door steps, and looked up at Maggie with a +very eager face. For a girl who was so dreadfully starved, Maggie could not +help thinking the said face rather round and full; however, she would not +allow this passing reflection to spoil her interest. She beckoned to Susy, +and said in a whisper:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<img src="images/illus103.jpg" width="386" height="650" alt="Maggie Stood in a Contemplative Attitude.—Page 91." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Maggie Stood in a Contemplative Attitude.—<a href="#Page_91">Page 91.</a></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm most terrible sorry for you. If I had any money I'd give it to +you—really and truly I would, but I haven't got nothing at all. Father +has—father's ever so rich, but he's not with me, he's far away, and I +can't—oh! Susy, can you write?"</p> + +<p>Maggie stood in a contemplative attitude. Susy posed herself on one leg, +held her basket of broken meat in a careless manner, as though it did not +account for anything at all, and kept her quick and intelligent eyes fixed +on the little princess.</p> + +<p>"I do want to help you, very much," said Maggie, at last. "I want to help +you my own self, without any one knowing anything about it. I think I want +to do this as much for Jo as for you. Once I didn't like Jo at all, but now +I do love her; she looks so beautiful and so sweet. I don't think you do; +you have rather a cross face, and you are very red, and you've such fat +cheeks; but maybe being hungry makes people look cross and red."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And—and—fat," continued Susy eagerly. "I'm puffed out with being so +holler inside. I am now, missie, really. It's an awfully empty feel, and it +won't go, not a bit of it, till I gets that 'ere tambourine."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could help you!" continued Maggie again.</p> + +<p>Just then there were sounds inside the house, sounds of dustpans and +brushes, and of industrious maids approaching, and Susy knew that her +opportunity was short.</p> + +<p>"I believe you, missie," she said, "I believe in your kind 'eart, missie. +It do seem a shame as you shouldn't have no money, for you would know how +to pervide for the poor and needy, missie; but—but it might be managed in +other ways, Miss Maggie."</p> + +<p>"In other ways?" repeated Maggie. "How, Susy—how, dear, nice Susy?"</p> + +<p>"Why, now, you hasn't nothing as you could sell, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"That I could sell?" repeated little Miss Ascot. "Oh, dear, no, I haven't +nothing at all to make a shop with, if that's what you mean."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of that, missie; I was wondering now if you had any +little bit of dress as you didn't want. Your clothes is very 'andsome, and +something as you didn't greatly care for would fetch a few pence if it was +sold, and so help on the tambourine."</p> + +<p>Maggie's blue eyes began to sparkle.</p> + +<p>"Why, there's my new hat," she said; "mother got it from London only a week +ago, and I know it cost pounds—it has two long white feathers; I like it +very much, but I could do without it, 'cause I've got my little common +garden-hat to wear. Do you think I'd get two or three pennies for my new +best hat with the feathers and the lace, Susy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, missie—oh, yes, missie; I seed the hat yesterday, and I never +clapped my two eyes on such a beauty. But it seems a pity to take it away +from you, missie dear, and maybe the little common garden-hat would fetch +enough to buy the tambourine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't sell that at all," said Maggie; "I am very fond of my +garden-hat, 'cause father likes me in it; and 'sides, I've gathered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +strawberries in it, and I've had wild birds' eggs in it. I'd much, much +rather sell the stupid new hat."</p> + +<p>Susy was quite agreeable to the transfer, and it was finally arranged that +the two little girls were to meet each other at the same hour on the +following morning, and Susy was to accompany Maggie to the pawnbroker's, +where the new hat might be disposed of.</p> + +<p>If there was a commonplace, ordinary, every-day London child, it was Susy +Aylmer. She was the sister of two little brothers, who also belonged to a +very easily found class of human beings; she was the daughter of an +industrious, hard-working, every-day mother; and yet she was also sister to +Jo!</p> + +<p>How Jo got into that home was a puzzle to all who knew her; she had innate +refinement; she had heaven-born beauty. Her ideas were above her class; her +little flower-like face looked like some rare exotic among its ruder +companions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aylmer alone knew why Jo was different from her other children. Jo +represented a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> short, bright episode in the hard-working woman's life. She +had been born in good days, in sweet, happy, country days. Her father had +been like her, refined in feature and poetic in temperament. Shortly after +Jo's birth the Aylmers had come to London, poverty and all its attendant +ills had over-taken them, and after a few years Aylmer had fallen a victim +to consumption, and had left his wife with four young children on her +hands, the three younger of whom altogether resembled her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aylmer had no time to grieve—she was a brave woman; there are many +brave women in the world, thank God; among the working poor they are +perhaps more the rule than the exception. She turned round, faced her +position, and managed after a fashion to provide for her children. Many +visitors came to see her, for she was eminently respectable, and had an +honest way about her which impressed people, and all these visitors pitied +her when they saw Jo.</p> + +<p>Poor little Jo was a cripple, a lovely cripple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> but still unable to walk +or move from her little sofa. The visitors congratulated Mrs. Aylmer on her +strong boys and stalwart-looking little daughter, but they invariably +pitied her about Jo. Nothing made that worthy woman so angry. "For Jo is my +brightest blessing," she would exclaim; "she's always like a bit of +sunshine in the room. Trouble, bless her! she a trouble! Why, don't she +take the trouble off my shoulders more than any one else ever did or ever +will do? Ask me who never yet spoke a cross word, and I'll tell you it's +that little pale girl who can never lift herself off the sofa. Ask me who +keeps the peace with the others, and I'll tell you again it's little Jo. +And she don't preach, not she, for she don't know how, and she never looks +reproachful for all the roughness and the wildness of the others; but her +life's one sarmin, and, in short, we none of us could get on without her. +Jo my trouble indeed! I only wish them visitors wouldn't talk about what +they knows nothing on."</p> + +<p>What Mrs. Aylmer felt for her little lame<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> daughter was also, although +perhaps in a slightly minor degree, acknowledged by the boys and Susy. They +clung to Jo, and looked up to her. The boys, who were the two youngest of +the family, had a habit of giving her their absolute confidence. They not +only told her of their good deeds, but of their naughty ones. They had a +habit of pouring out their little scrapes and misdemeanors with one of Jo's +thin hands clasped to their tearful faces, and when she forgave, and when +she encouraged, the sunshine came out again on them.</p> + +<p>But Susy was different from the boys, and of late she had kept the +knowledge of more than one naughty little action from Jo. The history of +the tambourine, the history of the purchase of that redoubtable instrument +which was to make Susy's fortune and fill the Aylmers' home with not only +the necessaries, but also some of the dainties of life, was, of course, +known by Jo. No one had ever been more interested in the purchase of a +musical instrument than she was in the collecting of that hoard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> which was +to result in the buying of Susy's tambourine. Jo was a delightful and +sympathizing listener, and Susy liked nothing better than to kneel by her +sofa and pour out her longings and dreams into so good a listener's ears; +but Susy had kept more than one secret to herself, and she said nothing to +Jo about her interview with little Miss Ascot, nor about the arrangement +she had made with that little lady to purchase the tambourine out of the +proceeds of the sale of her best hat.</p> + +<p>Susy knew perfectly that Jo would not approve of anything so underhanded, +and she resolved to keep her own counsel. She returned home, however, in +the wildest spirits, and indulged all day long in fantastic day-dreams. Jo +was having a bad day of much pain and suffering, but Susy's brightness was +infectious, and Mrs. Aylmer thought as she tidied up her place and made it +straight, that surely there never were happier children than hers.</p> + +<p>"But we won't have the tambourine for many and many a day yet," said Ben. +"Don't be too sure, Susy; how can you tell but that Master<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> Ralph'll get +tired of saving up all his pennies for you? Hanyhow," continued Ben, with a +profound sigh, "we has a sight of days to wait afore we gets 'arf a crown."</p> + +<p>"I knows what I knows," answered Susan oracularly. "Look here, Jo, you're +the one for making up real 'ticing pictures. I wants to make a day-dream, +and you tell me what to do with it when we get it. S'pose now—oh, do be +quiet, Ben and Bob—s'pose now I 'ad the tambourine, and it wor a beauty; +well, s'pose as the day is fine, and the hair balmy, and every-body goes +out, so to speak, with their pockets open, and they sees me—I'm dressed up +smart and tidy—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my, and ain't you red about the face, just?" here interrupts Bob.</p> + +<p>"Well, don't interrupt; I can't help my 'plexion; I'm tidy enough—and I'm +dancing round, and I'm playing the tambourine like anything, and I'm +singing. Well, maybe it's 'Nelly Bly,' or maybe it's the 'Ten Little Nigger +Boys;' hanyhow I takes; I'm nothing but little Susy Aylmer, but I takes. +The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> crowd collects, and they laugh, and they likes it, and then, the +ladies and the gents, they go by, so they give me their pennies—lots of +'em; and one old gent, he have no change, and he throws me a shilling. +Well, now, that's my day-dream. I comes home, I gives the pennies to +mother, but I keeps the shilling; I keeps the shilling for a treat for us +four young 'uns. Now, Jo, speak up. What shall we do with our day-dream?"</p> + +<p>The boys were here wildly excited. To all intents and purposes the shilling +was already in Susy's possession. Bob, to relieve his over-charged +feelings, instantly stood on his head, and Ben set to work to punch him; +Jo's eyes began to shine.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a real beautiful day-dream, Susy darlint," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ain't it, Jo? a whole shilling; you mind that, Jo. Now make up what +we'll do with it. Let's all sit quiet, and shut our heyes, and listen to +Jo. You'll be sure to make up something oncommon, Joey dear."</p> + +<p>Jo, when she spoke, or at least when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> made up what her brothers and +sisters called day-dreams, always clasped her hands and gazed straight +before her; her large violet-tinted eyes began to see visions, nowhere to +be perceived within that commonplace, whitewashed room; the children who +listened to her instinctively perceived this, and they usually closed their +own eyes in order to follow her glowing words the better.</p> + +<p>On this occasion she spoke slowly, and after a pause.</p> + +<p>"A whole shilling," she began; "it's a sight of money, and it ought to do a +deal. What I'm thinking is this: suppose we had a wan, a wan as would hold +us all, mother, and Susy, and Ben, and Bob, and there was lots of green +grass in the bottom of the wan, so we all of us sat easy, and had no pain +even when it moved. Suppose there was two horses to the wan, and a kind +driver, and we went werry quick; we went away from the houses, and the +streets, and we left the noise ahind us, and the dust and the dirt ahind +us, and we got out into fields. Fields, with trees a-growing, and real<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +yellow buttercups looking up at you saucy and perky like, and dear little +white daisies, like bits of snow with yellow eyes. S'pose we all got out +there, right in the fields, and we seed a little brook running and rushing +past us, and we see the fishes leaping for joy out of the water; and if the +sun was werry hot we got under a big tree, where it was shady, and we sat +there; mother and I sat side by side, and you, Susy, and you, Ben and Bob, +just rolled about on the green, and picked the buttercups and the daisies. +Why, I can think of nothing better than that, unless, maybe, angels came +and talked to us while we were there."</p> + +<p>Here Jo paused abruptly, and the three children who had sat absolutely +motionless opened their eyes; the two boys sighed deeply, but Susy after a +time began to cut up the day-dream; while Jo thought of angels as the only +possible culmination to such intense joy, it occurred to practical Susy to +suggest a good substantial dinner to be eaten under the shade of the green +trees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>CHOOSING HER COLORS.</h3> + + +<p>Maggie had found it very delightful to talk to Susy on the doorstep of her +aunt's house. The little mystery of the whole proceeding fascinated her, +and as she was in reality a very romantic and imaginative child, she +thought nothing could be finer than going off privately with Susy, and +sacrificing her best hat for the benefit of this young person. She had also +a decidedly mixed and perhaps somewhat naughty desire to out-do Ralph in +this matter, and to be herself the person who was to rescue poor Susy and +her family from the depths of starvation. When Susy went away, she crept +upstairs and went softly into her little room, no one having heard her +either leave it or return to it.</p> + +<p>There was one part, however, of the programme<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> marked out by Susy which was +not quite so agreeable to little Miss Ascot. Susy had adjured her, with +absolute tears starting to her black eyes, to keep the whole thing a +secret. Maggie had not the smallest difficulty in promising this at the +moment, but she had no sooner reached her little bedroom than she became +possessed with a frantic desire to tell her little adventure to some one. +She was not yet eight years old; she had never kept a secret in her life, +and the moment she possessed this one it began to worry her. Little Maggie, +however, was not without a certain code of morals; she knew that it would +be very wrong indeed to tell a lie. She had given her word to Susy; she +must keep her poor little secret at any cost.</p> + +<p>Miss Grey, who of course knew nothing of all that had transpired, came in +at her accustomed hour to assist her little pupil at her toilet. Maggie +capered about and seemed in excellent spirits while she was being dressed. +She had no idea of betraying her secret, but she liked, so to speak, to +play with it, to show<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> little peeps of it, and certainly fully to acquaint +those she was with, with the fact that she was the happy possessor of such +a treasure. She remembered Waters' remarks of the night before. Waters had +said how very faithfully she preserved anything told to her in confidence. +Waters kept her secrets in violet. Maggie did not quite understand the +double meaning of this expression; but, as she was being dressed, she +became violently enamored of what she called the "secret" color.</p> + +<p>"No, no, I won't have my pink sash this morning, please, Miss Grey; I don't +like pink; I mean it isn't the fit color for me to wear to-day. You don't +know why; you'll never of course guess why, but pink isn't my color to-day +anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, Maggie, you need not wear it," replied the patient governess; "here +is a very pretty blue sash, dear; it will go quite nicely with your white +frock; let me tie it on in a hurry, dear, for the breakfast gong has +sounded."</p> + +<p>But Maggie would not be satisfied with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> blue sash, nor yet with the +tartan, nor even with the pale gold.</p> + +<p>"I want a violet sash," she said; "I'll have nothing but a violet sash; I'm +keeping something in violet; you'll never, never guess what."</p> + +<p>The breakfast gong here sounded a second time, and of course Miss Grey +could not find any violet ribbons in Maggie's box; fortunately she had a +piece of the desired color among her own stores; so when the little +princess was decked in it, she went downstairs, feeling very happy and +proud.</p> + +<p>Miss Grey's violet sash did not happen to be of a pretty shade; it was an +old ribbon, of a dark tint of color, and was a great deal too short for its +present purpose.</p> + +<p>"What a hideous thing you have round your waist," whispered Ralph to his +little cousin; but here he caught his mother's eye; she did not allow him +to make personal remarks, and although she herself was considerably +surprised at Lady Ascot's allowing such a ribbon into Maggie's wardrobe, +nothing further was said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> on the subject. Even the wearing of the violet +sash, however, could scarcely keep the secret from bubbling to Maggie's +lips. Mrs. Grenville began to form her plans for the day. Maggie and Ralph +were to employ themselves over their lessons until twelve o'clock and then +Mrs. Grenville would take them both out with her, first to Madame +Tussaud's, and later on for a drive in the park.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow," she continued, "you are both going with me to a children's +garden party. Mrs. Somerville—you know Mrs. Somerville, Ralph, and what +nice children hers are—happened to hear that you and Maggie were coming to +me for a short time, and she sent an invitation for you both last night. We +shall not return until quite late, as it will be Hugh Somerville's +birthday; and they are going to have fireworks in the evening, and even a +little dance."</p> + +<p>Ralph rubbed his hands together with delight.</p> + +<p>"Won't Maggie jump when she hears the fireworks?" he said. "You never saw +fireworks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> did you, Mag? Oh, I say, what a jolly time we are going to +have!"</p> + +<p>Maggie felt her cheeks flushing, more particularly as she had seen a few +rockets, and even some Catharine wheels, and in consequence she had +hitherto believed herself rather knowing on the subject of fireworks; but +when Ralph proceeded to enlighten her with regard to the style of fireworks +likely to be exhibited at Mrs. Somerville's garden party; when he spoke +about the fairy fountains, and the electric lights, and the golden showers +of fire-drops, and last, but not least, the bouquet which was to end the +entertainment, she felt she had better keep silent with regard to the +rockets and Catharine wheels which her father had once displayed for the +amusement of the villagers.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville here began to speak earnestly to Miss Grey.</p> + +<p>"I want Maggie's dress to be quite suitable. Is there anything we ought to +get for her, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"I think not," replied Miss Grey. "She has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> just had a beautifully worked +Indian muslin frock from Perrett's, in Bond Street, which she has not yet +worn; and I don't think anything could be more dressy than her new hat with +the ostrich feathers."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it is a charming hat," replied Mrs. Grenville. "Of course she +must wear it to-day when she drives with me in the carriage, but that won't +injure it for to-morrow. Then I need not trouble about your wardrobe, my +darling; you will accompany me to-morrow, quite the little princess your +father is so fond of calling you."</p> + +<p>During this brief conversation, Maggie's little face had been changing +color.</p> + +<p>"I think," she said suddenly, "that perhaps I'd better have a new hat."</p> + +<p>"Why so, my love? your hat is quite new and charming. It came from +Perrett's, too, did it not, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Grenville; it was sent in the same box as the muslin costume."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it will answer admirably, Maggie, dear. Why, what is the matter, my +child?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>Maggie's lips were quivering, and her eyes were fixed on her violet sash.</p> + +<p>"Only perhaps—perhaps the new hat might get lost or something," she +muttered incoherently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville looked at her for a moment, but as her remark was not very +intelligible, she dismissed it from her mind.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day passed happily enough. In half an hour Maggie ceased to +fret about her hat. She comforted herself with the thought that her plain +brown straw garden-hat, trimmed with a neat band of brown velvet, and a few +daisies, would be after all just the thing for a garden party, and that in +any case it did not greatly matter what she wore. What was of much more +consequence was, that to-morrow Susy would be capering about with her +tambourine, and that pennies would be pouring in for the Aylmer children, +and for Jo in particular. She was obliged to wear her best hat when she +went out that afternoon, and she certainly was remarkably careful as to how +she put it on, and she quite astonished Miss Grey,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> when she came home in +the evening, by the extreme care with which she herself placed it back in +its box.</p> + +<p>"Waters," she said that night, when she suddenly met Mrs. Grenville's maid, +"I am quite happy again; I have done just as you do, and I have kept it in +violet all day long."</p> + +<p>"What, my darling?" asked the surprised servant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my secret; I have got such a darling secret. It would be very wrong of +me to tell it, wouldn't it, Waters?"</p> + +<p>Waters looked dubious.</p> + +<p>"I don't approve of secrets for a little lady."</p> + +<p>"But, Waters, how queer you are! You always keep your own secrets in +violet, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, dear; yes. But I haven't many. They're sort of burdensome things; +at least, I find them so. And in no case do I approve of secrets for little +ladies, Miss Maggie; in no single case."</p> + +<p>Maggie knit her brows, looked exceedingly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> perplexed, felt a great longing +to pour the whole affair into Waters' sympathizing ears, then remembered +Susy and refrained.</p> + +<p>"But I promised not to tell," she said; "I promised most solemn not to +tell."</p> + +<p>"Well, well; I s'pose it's something between you and Master Ralph," +remarked the servant, who felt worried she scarcely knew why.</p> + +<p>Maggie jumped softly up and down.</p> + +<p>"It isn't Ralph's secret, but it's about Ralph. He needn't save up his +pennies no more. It's about Ralph's pennies and the half-crown. I know what +it is; I'll tell you exactly what it is, Waters, and yet I know you won't +never guess. It's add sixteen to fourteen makes thirty. My secret's the +sixteen. You'll never, never, never guess, will you, Waters?"</p> + +<p>Here Waters had to confess herself bamboozled, and Maggie skipped off to +bed with a very light heart. She had kept her secret all day long, and now +all she had to do was to wake up quite early in the morning, and go off +with Susy to the pawnbroker's.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>A JOLLY PLAN.</h3> + + +<p>Maggie, on the whole, was inclined to wake early; she was not a +particularly sound sleeper, and on the summer mornings she always had an +intense longing to be up and about. It occurred to her, however, as Miss +Grey was helping her to undress that night, how very, very dreadful it +would be if Susy were to wait down in the street on the following morning, +and she were all unconsciously to oversleep herself. She thought that such +a thing ought not to be left to chance, and she cast about in her active +little brain for some means of rousing herself. The little room she slept +in used to be occupied by Ralph; and among the rest of its furniture, it +held a nice little book-shelf, full of gayly covered boy's books. Maggie +could not read, but Ralph during the day had come up with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> her and told her +the names of some of his favorite volumes. Maggie now thought that these +books might help her to wake; and accordingly, after Miss Grey had left her +tucked up comfortably in her little white bed, she slipped on to the floor, +and going to the book-case, selected a green and gayly bound volume, which +Ralph had called "Robinson Crusoe;" another, which he had entitled "Swiss +Family Robinson," and a book bound in brown, which he assured her was as +heavy in its contents as in its exterior, and which bore the name of +"Sandford and Merton."</p> + +<p>Maggie carried these three books into her bed, and then arranged them with +system.</p> + +<p>"I am sure to wake now," she said to herself. "And poor little Susy shall +not be disappointed of her tambourine. The green book is 'Robinson Crusoe,' +he'll do to begin with; he's rather thick, and he'll make a good clatter. +Now I do call this a lovely plan."</p> + +<p>Maggie now arranged herself in bed, and placed "Robinson Crusoe" on her +feet.</p> + +<p>"I'll go sound asleep, and though he's rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> weighty I don't mind him, +and then when I turn, he'll go bang on the floor, and that'll wake me the +first time," she said. "The other two books can stay handy until they're +wanted under my pillow."</p> + +<p>Then the little princess shut up her curly fringed eyes and went happily +off into the land of dreams.</p> + +<p>It so happened that Miss Grey was getting into bed when the bump occasioned +by "Robinson Crusoe's" fall occurred. She rushed into her little pupil's +room to inquire what was wrong. Maggie was sitting up in bed and rubbing +her sleepy eyes.</p> + +<p>"He did come down with a bang," she said; "it's a jolly plan. Please, Miss +Grey, it's only 'Robinson Crusoe;' do you mind putting him on the shelf?"</p> + +<p>Miss Grey picked up the volume in great wonder, but concluding that Maggie, +who could not read a word, must have been amusing herself looking at the +pictures, laid the book down and retired to rest.</p> + +<p>In the course of the night she had again to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> fly into the little princess' +bedroom. This time Maggie was very sleepy, and only murmured drowsily:</p> + +<p>"I think it's his 'Family' that has got on the floor now."</p> + +<p>Miss Grey picked up the "Swiss Family Robinson," and with a not unnatural +reflection that there seldom was a more troublesome little girl than her +pupil, once more sought her couch.</p> + +<p>The third bang was the loudest of all, and it came with daylight, and +strange and unfortunate to say, awoke the pupil, and not the governess. +Maggie was out of bed in a moment, and approached the window, and was +gazing out to see some sign of Susy in the street. It was not yet five +o'clock, and certainly Susy was not likely to put in an appearance so +early; but Maggie determined not to risk going to sleep again, and she +accordingly dressed herself, and then getting on the window-sill, which +happened to be rather deep, curled herself up, and pressed her little face +against the glass. The band-box containing the precious hat was by her +side. The moment Susy appeared, therefore, she was ready to start.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>Six o'clock struck from a church tower hard by, but another hour had very +nearly passed before a somewhat stout little figure was seen eagerly +turning the corner and gazing right up to the window where Maggie, cold and +tired with waiting, sat. At the sight of Susy, however, her spirits revived +and her enthusiasm was once more kindled. With the band-box containing the +new hat in her hand she rushed out of the room—she was too excited to be +very prudent this morning—and dashed downstairs in a way which certainly +would have aroused any one in the dead of the night, but was only mistaken +now for a frantic housemaid's extra cleaning.</p> + +<p>Once more she reached the hall without any one seeing her, and opening the +street door, found Susy Aylmer waiting on the steps.</p> + +<p>"Oh! here you are, miss—my heart was in my mouth for fear as you'd fail +me. Oh, not that band-box please, Miss Maggie, anybody would notice us with +the band-box! I have brought round the little broken-victual basket, and +we'll stuff the hat into that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>Maggie on this occasion was certainly not going to be particular, but she +did feel a pang of some annoyance when she saw her lovely hat crushed and +squeezed into a by no means clean basket. She concluded, however, that as +the hat was now absolutely Susy's, she need not trouble any further about +it.</p> + +<p>"That's all right now," she said; "you'll be able to buy the tambourine +now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I 'ope so, miss; that's if the 'at ain't a sham, and it don't look +like a sham—it looks like a real good 'at. Now, then, Miss Maggie, hadn't +we better come along?—it's a good step from here to the pawnshop—we'll +get there a little before eight, and they opens at eight. It's a good plan +to be at the pawn bright and early, and then you get served first; come +along, miss."</p> + +<p>"But I didn't know you wanted me to go with you to the shop," said Maggie; +"I thought you might do that by yourself; I have gived you the hat, and I +thought you'd sell it by yourself. Why, what is the matter Susy?"</p> + +<p>Susy Aylmer's face had grown crimson,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> redder, indeed, than any face Maggie +had ever seen; she began opening the basket and pulling out the hat.</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" she said, "and is that your kind? Is it me that 'ud take this hat +and sell it by myself? Why, I'd be took for a thief, that's what I'd be +took for, and I'd be put in the lock-up, that's where I'd be found. There, +Miss Maggie, take back your hat, miss; it's better to be ever so hungry and +holler, and have your bit of liberty. I must do without the tambourine, and +Jo's day dream won't come, that's all. Good-morning to yer, miss."</p> + +<p>Susy began to walk very slowly away, but Maggie flew after her.</p> + +<p>"Why, Susy," she said, "I don't mind going with you; I think perhaps I'd +rather like going, only I didn't know you wanted me. You shan't be put in +the lock-up, Susy, though I'm sure I don't know what the lock-up is, and +you shall have your tambourine. But oh, Susy, I hope they won't take me for +a thief and put me into that funny place!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no, missy darling—any one might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> see at a glance that you was +the rightful owner of that 'ere pretty hat, and might well sell what was +your own. Come, missy dear, it's all right now, and I never thought as +you'd be that real mean as to desert me."</p> + +<p>"We must be very quick, then, Susy," said Maggie; "for my Aunt Violet is +going to have breakfast at half-past eight this morning and I have been up +a long time—a very long time, and I never was so hungry in all my life. I +had a very disturbed night, Susy, for 'Robinson Crusoe' did bump so when he +fell on the floor, and so did the 'Family,' but none of them bumped quite +so hard as 'Sandford and Merton.'"</p> + +<p>All the time the two little girls were talking they were going further and +further away from Mrs. Grenville's door, and by the time Maggie had quite +made up her mind to accompany her little companion they had turned into a +side street, and if she had wished it she could not now have found her way +home.</p> + +<p>Maggie, however, no longer wished to go back; it was great fun going with +Susy to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> pawnbroker's, and she felt very important at having something +of her own to sell. She was a strong, healthy little girl, and did not feel +particularly tired when they at last reached the special pawnbroker's which +Susy had fixed upon as the best place for making their bargain. The doors +of this shop were not yet open, but they were presently pushed back, the +shutters were taken down, and a dirty-looking girl and a slovenly red-faced +man entered the establishment. Maggie had never seen such an +unpleasant-looking pair, and she was very glad to shelter herself behind +Susy, and felt much inclined to refuse to enter the shop at all.</p> + +<p>Susy, however, marched in boldly, and very soon the white hat was laid upon +the counter, and a fierce haggling ensued between this young person and the +red-faced man. The dirty girl also came and stared very hard at Maggie, for +certainly such a refined little face and such a lovely hat had not been +seen in that pawnshop for many a day. The hat was new, and had cost several +guineas, but Maggie's eyes quite glistened when the red man presented her +with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> seven shillings in exchange for it. She thought this a magnificent +lot of money—her cheeks became deeply flushed, and she poured the silver +into Susy's hand with the delighted remark:</p> + +<p>"Oh, now you can get a tambourine! This will more than make up the sixteen +added to fourteen, won't it?"</p> + +<p>Susy, too, thought seven shillings a splendid lot of money, and the two +were leaving the pawnbroker's in a state of ecstasy, when Susy suddenly +felt even her florid complexion turning pale, and Maggie exclaimed +joyfully:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's dear Waters! Waters, where have you come from, and how did you +learn my secret?"</p> + +<p>For answer to Maggie's eager inquiries Waters stooped down and lifted the +little girl into her arms; she held her close, and even kissed her in a +quite tremulous and agitated manner.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, Miss Maggie!" she exclaimed; "thank God, my pretty innocent +lamb, I'm in time. Oh, what a bad, bad girl that Susy must be! How could +she tempt you to do anything so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> wicked? Why, Miss Maggie, you might have +been stolen yourself—you might have been—you might have been! Oh, poor +dear Sir John! What a near escape he has had of having his heart broke!"</p> + +<p>Here Waters shed some tears and leaned up against the counter in her +agitation.</p> + +<p>"Susy was not to blame," said Maggie, when she could speak in her utter +astonishment. "Poor Susy wanted the tambourine, and I wanted to give it +her, and I couldn't think of no other way, 'cause I'm a dunce and can't +write, and so I couldn't send no letter to father to ask him to give me the +money. Don't you be frightened, Susy; come here; poor Susy you shall have +your tambourine."</p> + +<p>But here the untidy-looking girl who served behind the counter raised her +shrill voice.</p> + +<p>"Ef you're looking for the red-faced young person what came with you into +the shop, miss, she runned away some minutes since."</p> + +<p>"And I'm grieved to say taking the money with her," added the pawnbroker. +"It seems provoking," he continued, "as of course if the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> money had been +returned I might have given up the hat. As things now stands this here hat +is mine."</p> + +<p>"Not quite so," interposed Waters; "you know quite well, sir, you had no +right to buy a hat from a little lady like Miss Ascot. Here's seven +shillings from my purse, sir, and I'd be thankful to you to restore me the +hat."</p> + +<p>Of course the pawnbroker and Waters had a rather sharp quarrel upon the +spot, but in the end the pawnbroker was the better of that morning's +transaction to the tune of several shillings, and Waters rescued the pretty +white hat, which, much bent out of shape, and with some black marks on its +pure white trimmings, was carried home.</p> + +<p>"Not that you shall wear it, my dear—not that you shall attempt to put it +on your head again, for nobody knows what the hat may have contracted, so +to speak, in so horrid and dirty a shop, but that I didn't wish that man to +have more of a victory than I could help. Oh, Miss Maggie, darling, you did +give me a fright and no mistake!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But how did you know where I was, Waters? I kept my secret so well."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dearie; but somehow I got fidgety last night, and I kept thinking +and thinking of your words, and the idea got hold of me that maybe the +secret wasn't just between you and Master Ralph. This morning I woke +earlier than my wont, and as I couldn't sleep, I got up. I had to put one +or two little matters right with regard to my mistress' wardrobe, and then +I thought I'd see, just when I had a quiet hour, whether you had everything +right to go to the garden party. Your new dress was hung up in my mistress' +room, and I took it out and saw that the tucker was fastened round the +neck, and that your gloves were neat, and your little white French boots +wanted no buttons, and then it occurred to me that I'd just curl up the +feathers of the hat. The hat was not with the dress, so I ran up to your +room to fetch it, thinking of course to see you, dearie, like a little bird +asleep in your nest. Well, my dear, the poor little bird was flown, and the +beautiful hat was nowhere, and, I must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> say, I was in a taking, and it +flashed across me that was the secret. I put on my bonnet and flew into the +street, only just in time to see you and Susy talking very earnestly +together, and turning the corner. The street, as you know, is a long one, +and I couldn't get up with you, run as I might, but thank God, I kept you +in sight, and at last overtook you at the pawnshop. Oh, what a wicked girl +Susy Aylmer is!"</p> + +<p>"She isn't," said Maggie, "Oh, poor Susy isn't wicked. Waters, I'm sorry +you found us. I did want to do something for Susy and for Jo!"</p> + +<p>Here Maggie burst into such bitter weeping that Waters found it absolutely +impossible to comfort her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>A GREAT FEAR.</h3> + + +<p>Nothing could exceed the fuss which was made over Maggie and her adventure. +Mrs. Grenville turned quite pale when she heard of it—even Ralph, who was +tranquilly eating his breakfast, and who, as a rule, did not disturb +himself about anything, threw down his spoon, ceased to devour his +porridge, and gazed at Maggie in some astonishment mingled with a tiny +degree of envy and even a little shadow of respect. Mrs. Grenville took the +little girl in her arms, and while she kissed and petted her, she also +thought it necessary to chide her very gently. It was at this juncture that +Ralph did an astonishing thing; he upset his mug of milk, he tossed his +spoon with a great clatter on the floor, and dashing in the most headlong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +style round the table, caught Maggie's two hands and said impulsively:</p> + +<p>"She oughtn't to be scolded, really, mother. She didn't know anything about +its being wrong, and I call it a downright plucky thing of her to do. She +couldn't have done more even if she had been a boy—no, not even if she had +been a boy," continued Ralph, nodding his head with intense earnestness. "I +can say nothing better than that, can I, mother?"</p> + +<p>"According to your code you certainly cannot, Ralph," answered his mother. +"Now go back to your seat, my boy, and pick up the spoon you have thrown on +the floor. See what a mess you have made on the breakfast-table. Maggie, +dear, you did not mean to do wrong, still you did wrong. But we will say +nothing more on that subject for the present. Now, my darling, you shall +have some breakfast, and then I have a surprise for you."</p> + +<p>Maggie could not help owning to her own little heart that Ralph's words had +cheered her considerably; she thought a great deal more of Ralph's opinion +than of any one else's, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> was an immense consolation to be compared +to a boy, and to a plucky one. She accordingly ate her breakfast with +considerable appetite, and was ready to receive the surprise which her aunt +said awaited her at its close.</p> + +<p>This was no less joyful a piece of news than the fact that Lady Ascot's +sister was much better, and that Sir John intended to come up to London for +a few days.</p> + +<p>"After all, Maggie," said her aunt, "if you had shown a little patience, +you could have asked your father for the money, instead of trying to sell +your best hat. Now, dear, you can go up to the schoolroom with Ralph, and I +hope that no bad consequences will arise from this morning's adventure."</p> + +<p>"I think, mother," here interrupted Ralph, "it would be a good plan for +Maggie and me to go round and see how Jo is. Susy didn't act right, and I +know Jo will be very unhappy, and Jo oughtn't to be blamed; ought she, +mother?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Ralph; Jo has done nothing wrong. Well, if Waters can spare +the time, I don't mind you two little people going to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> Jo, but +remember, you must not stay long; for now I really must buy Maggie a new +hat for the garden party."</p> + +<p>"Oh, auntie, but I brought my own hat back," exclaimed the little princess.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my love, but it is much injured, and there are other reasons why I +should not care to see you wear it again. Now run away, children, and get +your visit over, for we have plenty to do this afternoon."</p> + +<p>When Maggie, with her heart beating high, and one of her hands held tightly +in Ralph's, entered Mrs. Aylmer's room, she was startled to find herself in +a scene of much confusion. Mrs. Aylmer prided herself on keeping a very +neat and orderly home, but there was certainly nothing orderly about that +home to-day. Mrs. Aylmer herself was seated on a low, broken chair, her +hands thrown down at her sides, her cap on crooked, and her face bearing +signs of violent weeping. The two little boys stood one at each side of +their mother: Ben had his finger in his mouth, and Bob's red hair seemed +almost to stand on end. They kept gazing with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> solemn eyes at their mother, +for tears on her face were a rare occurrence. Susy was nowhere to be seen; +and most startling fact of all, Jo's little sofa was empty.</p> + +<p>It was Jo's absence from the room which Ralph first remarked. He rushed up +to Mrs. Aylmer and clutched one of her hands.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter? Where's Jo? Where's our darling little Jo?" he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Master Ralph Grenville," exclaimed the poor woman, "you had better not +come near me; you had better not, sir, it mightn't be safe. I'm just +distraught with misery and terror. My little Jo, my little treasure, is tuk +away from me; she's tuk bad with the fever, sir, and they've carried her +off to the hospital. She's there now; I 'as just come from seeing her +there."</p> + +<p>By this time Waters, panting and puffing hard, had reached the room, and +had heard, with a sinking heart, the last of Mrs. Aylmer's words. She +eagerly questioned the poor woman, who said that Jo had not been well for +days, and yesterday the doctor had pronounced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> her case one of fever and +had ordered her, for the sake of the other children, to be moved at once to +the nearest fever hospital.</p> + +<p>"She was werry willing to go herself," continued the mother; "she wouldn't +harm no one, not in life, nor in death, would my little Jo."</p> + +<p>"And Susy knew of this!" exclaimed Waters. "Oh, was there ever such a bad +girl? Mrs. Aylmer, you'll forgive me if I hurries these dear children out +of this infected air! I'll come back later in the day, ma'am, and do what I +can for you; and if Susy comes home, you might do well to keep her in, for +I can't help saying she is no credit to you. It sounds hard at such a +moment, but I must out with my mind."</p> + +<p>"Susy!" here exclaimed Mrs. Aylmer, "I ain't seen nothing of Susy to-day."</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, very like; but it's my duty to tell you she has been after no +good. Now come away, darlings. I'll look in again presently, Mrs. Aylmer."</p> + +<p>Maggie could never make out why her aunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> turned so pale and looked so +anxiously at her when the news of Jo's dangerous illness was told to her. +The pity which should have been expended on the sick and suffering little +girl seemed, in some inexplicable way, to be showered upon her. A doctor +even was sent for, who asked Maggie a lot of questions, and was +particularly anxious to know if she held Susy's hand when she walked with +her, and how long she and Ralph had been in the infected room. In +conclusion, he said some words which seemed to Maggie to have no sense at +all.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing whatever for us to do, Mrs. Grenville. If the children +have imbibed the poison it is too late to stop matters. We must only hope +for the best, and watch them. Nothing, of course, can be certainly known +for several days."</p> + +<p>Maggie could not understand the doctor, and both she and Ralph thought Mrs. +Grenville rather wanting in feeling not to let them go and inquire for Jo +at the hospital. Under these circumstances the garden-party was a rather +cheerless affair, and Maggie was glad to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> return home and to lay a very +tired little head on her pillow.</p> + +<p>She was awakened from her first sleep by her father bending over her and +kissing her passionately. Never had she seen Sir John's face so red, and +his eyes quite looked—only of course that was impossible—as if he had +been crying.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, I am glad to see you," exclaimed Maggie, "only I wish you had +come last night, for then I wouldn't have tried to sell my hat, and you'd +have given me the money for the tambourine. I wish you had come last night, +father, dear."</p> + +<p>"So do I, Mag-Mag," answered poor Sir John. "God knows it might have saved +me from a broken heart."</p> + +<p>Maggie could not understand either her father or aunt.</p> + +<p>She began, perhaps, to have a certain glimmering as to the meaning of it +all when, a few days later, she felt very hot, and languid, and heavy, when +her throat ached, and her head ached, and although it was a warm summer's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +day, she was glad to lie with a shawl over her on the sofa. Then certain +words of the doctor's, as he bent over her, penetrated her dull ears, and +crept somehow down into her heart.</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt whatever that she has taken the fever from Susy Aylmer. +Well, all we have to do now is to pull her through as quickly as possible, +and of course, Mrs. Grenville, as Ralph is still quite well, and as he was +not exposed to anything like the same amount of infection as Maggie, you +will send him away."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville responded in rather a choking voice, and she and the doctor +left the room together.</p> + +<p>A few moments later Mrs. Grenville came back and bent over the sick child.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Auntie Violet?" asked Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my darling," responded her aunt.</p> + +<p>"What's fever, auntie?"</p> + +<p>"An illness, dear."</p> + +<p>"And am I going to be very, very ill?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not very ill, Maggie. We are going to nurse you so well that we +trust that will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> not be the case; but I am afraid my poor little girl will +not feel comfortable for some time."</p> + +<p>"And did I take the fever that's to make me so sick from Susy—only Susy +wasn't sick, auntie?"</p> + +<p>"No, dearest; but she carried the infection on her clothes, and there is no +doubt you took it from her."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm 'fraid," continued Maggie, "you're very angry with her still."</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that I'm pleased with her, darling."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, auntie, I want you to forgive her, and I want father to forgive +her, 'cause she didn't know nothing about 'fection or fevers—and—and—do +forgive her, Auntie Violet."</p> + +<p>Here poor sick little Maggie began to cry and Mrs. Grenville was glad to +comfort her with any assurances, even of promises of forgiveness for the +naughty Susy.</p> + +<p>After this there came very dark and anxious days for the people who loved +the little princess. Ralph was sent back to Tower Hill, where he wandered +about and was miserable,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> and thought a great deal about Maggie, and found +out that after all he was very fond of her. He did not take the fever +himself, but he was full of anxieties about Jo and Maggie; for both the +little girls, one in the fever hospital and the other in his mother's +luxurious home, were having a hard fight for their little lives.</p> + +<p>Lady Ascot and Sir John were always, day and night, one or another of them, +to be found by Maggie's sick-bed, and of course there were professional +nurses, and more than one doctor; but with all this care the sick child in +the home seemed to have as hard a time of it as the other sick child who +was away from those she loved and who was handed over to the tender mercies +of strangers. It was very curious how, through all her ravings and through +all the delirium of her fever, Maggie talked about Jo. She had only seen Jo +once in her life, but although she mentioned her mother and her father, and +her old nurse and Ralph, there was no one at all about whom she spoke so +frequently, or with so keen an interest, as the lame child of the poor +laundress. From the moment she heard that Susy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> was to be forgiven, that +very mischievous little person seemed to have passed from her thoughts; but +with Jo it was different, until at last Waters began to think that there +was some mysterious link between the two sick children.</p> + +<p>This idea was confirmed, when one evening little Maggie awoke, cool and +quiet, but with a weakness over her which was beyond any weakness she could +ever have dreamed of undergoing. Her feeble voice could scarcely be heard, +but her thoughts still ran on Jo.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she whispered, very, very low indeed in Lady Ascot's ear, "I +thought Jo had got her day-dream."</p> + +<p>"Try not to talk, my precious one," whispered the mother back in reply.</p> + +<p>"But why not?" asked Maggie. "Jo often had day-dreams, Susy told me, and so +did Ralph. She wanted to be in a cool place, where beautiful things are, in +the country, or in—in heaven. And I want to be with Jo in the country—or +in—heaven."</p> + +<p>Maggie looked very sweet as she spoke, and when the last words passed her +pale little lips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> she closed her eyes with their pretty curly lashes. The +father and mother both felt, as they looked at her, that a very, very +little more would take their darling away.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how the sick child in the hospital is," said Sir John Ascot to +his wife. "I must own I have had no time to think about her, and she and +hers have done mischief enough to us; but the little one's heart seems set +on her—has been all through. It might be a good thing for our little +Maggie if I could bring her word that the other child is better."</p> + +<p>"It would be the best thing in all the world for Maggie," answered Lady +Ascot.</p> + +<p>"Then I will go round to the fever hospital now, and make inquiries," said +Sir John.</p> + +<p>On his way downstairs he met Mrs. Grenville, and told her what he was +doing. She said:</p> + +<p>"Wait one moment, John, and I will put on my bonnet and go with you."</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening toward the end of July. The day had been intensely +hot, but now a soft breeze began to stir the heated atmosphere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> a breeze +with a little touch of health and healing about it.</p> + +<p>"This night will be cooler than the last," said Mrs. Grenville, "and that +will be another chance in our little one's favor."</p> + +<p>At this moment the lady's dress was plucked rather sharply from behind, and +looking round Mrs. Grenville saw, for the first time since all their +trouble, the excited and rough little figure of Susy Aylmer. Her first +impulse was to shake herself free from the touch of so naughty a child, but +then she remembered her promise to Maggie, and looked again at the little +intruder.</p> + +<p>A great change had come over poor Susy; the confidence and assurance had +all left her round face. It was round still, and was to a certain extent +red still, but the eyes were so swollen with crying, and the poor face +itself so disfigured by tear-channels, that only one who had seen her +several times would have recognized her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ma'am," she exclaimed, "I has been waiting here for hours and hours, +and nobody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> will speak to me nor tell me nothing. Mrs. Cook won't speak, +nor the housemaid, nor Mrs. Waters, nor nobody, and I feel as if my heart +would burst, ma'am. Oh, Mrs. Grenville, how is Miss Maggie, and is she +going away same as our little Jo is going away?"</p> + +<p>"Who is that child, Violet?" inquired Sir John. "Does she, too, know some +one of the name of Jo, and what is she keeping you for? Do let us hurry +on."</p> + +<p>"She is little Jo Aylmer's sister," whispered back Mrs. Grenville. "Susy, +it is very hard to forgive you, for through your deceit we have all got +into this terrible trouble; but I promised Maggie I would try, and I can +not go back from my word to the dear little one. Maggie is a shade, just a +shade better to-night, Susy, but she is still very, very ill. Pray for her, +child, pray for that most precious little life. And now, what about Jo? It +is not really true what you said about Jo, Susy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it is, ma'am; they has just sent round a message to mother, and +they say that our little Jo won't live through the night. It's quite true +as she's going away to God, ma'am."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>GOING HOME.</h3> + + +<p>Sir John and Mrs. Grenville left poor Susy standing with her apron to her +eyes at the corner of the street, and went on in the direction of the fever +hospital. Their hearts had sunk very low at Susy's words, and they began to +share in Waters' belief that there was a mysterious sympathy between the +two sick children, and that if one went away perhaps the other would follow +quickly.</p> + +<p>The fever hospital was some little distance off, but they both preferred +walking to calling a cab. It was not the visiting hour when they got there, +but Mrs. Grenville scribbled some words on a little card, and begged of the +porter who admitted them into the cool stone hall to send a note with her +card and Sir John's at once to the lady superintendent. This little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> note +had the desired effect, and in a few moments they were both admitted to the +good lady's private sanctum.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville in a few low words explained the nature of their errand. The +good lady nurse was all sympathy and interest, but when they mentioned the +name of the child they had come to see her face became very grave and sad.</p> + +<p>"That little one!" she remarked; "I fear that God is going to take that +sweet child away to himself. She is the sweetest and prettiest child in the +hospital—she has gone through a terrible illness, and I don't think I have +once heard her murmur. Poor little lamb! her sufferings are over at last, +thank God; she is just quietly moment by moment passing away. It is a case +of dying from exhaustion."</p> + +<p>"But, good madam, can nothing be done to rouse her?" asked Sir John, his +face turning purple with agitation. "Has she the best and most expensive +nourishment—can't her strength be supported? Perhaps, ma'am, you are not +aware that a good deal depends on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> life of that little girl. It is not +an ordinary case—no, no, by no means an ordinary case. My purse is at your +command, ma'am; get the best doctors, the best nurses, the best care—save +the child's life at any cost."</p> + +<p>While Sir John was speaking the lady nurse looked sadder than ever.</p> + +<p>"We give of the best in this hospital," she said; "and there has been from +the first no question of expense or money. Perhaps the worst symptom in the +case of little Joanna Aylmer is in the fact that the child herself does not +wish to recover. I confess I have no hope whatever, but it is a well-known +saying that, in fever, as long as there is life there is hope. Would you +like to see the child, Mrs. Grenville? It might comfort your own little +darling afterward to know that you had gone to see her just at the end."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville nodded in reply, but poor Sir John, overcome by an undefined +terror, sank down by the table, and covered his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville followed the nurse into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> long cool ward, passing on her +way many sick and suffering children. The child by whose little narrow +white bed they at last stopped was certainly now not suffering. Her eyes +were closed; through her parted lips only came the gentlest breathing; on +her serene brow there rested a look of absolute peace. Little Jo Aylmer was +alive, but she neither spoke nor moved. Mrs. Grenville stooped down and +kissed her, leaving what she thought was a tear of farewell on her sweet +little face.</p> + +<p>As she was walking home by Sir John's side, she said abruptly, after an +interval of silence:</p> + +<p>"It is quite true, John—we must do what we can to keep Maggie, but little +Jo is going home."</p> + +<p>"She must not die. We must keep her somehow," replied Sir John.</p> + +<p>That night it seemed to several people that two little children were about +to be taken away to their heavenly home, for Maggie's feeble strength +fluttered and failed, and, as the hours went by, the doctors shook their +heads and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> looked very grave. She still talked in a half-delirious way +about Jo, and still seemed to fancy that she and Jo were soon going +somewhere away together.</p> + +<p>All through her illness no one had been more devoted in her attentions to +the sick child than the faithful servant Waters. When the day began to +break, Waters made up her mind to a certain line of action. Her mistress +had told her how very ill little Jo Aylmer was—she had described fully her +visit to the hospital—had told Waters that she herself had no hope +whatever of Jo, and had further added that the child herself did not wish +to live.</p> + +<p>"That's not to be wondered at," commented Waters. "What have she special to +live for, pretty lamb? and there's much to delight one like her where she's +going; but all the same, ma'am, it will be the death-knell of our little +Miss Maggie if the other child is taken."</p> + +<p>When the morning broke, Waters felt that she could bear her present state +of inaction no longer, and accordingly she tied on her bonnet and went +out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>First of all she wended her steps in the direction of the Aylmers' humble +dwelling. She mounted the stairs to Mrs. Aylmer's door and knocked. The +poor woman had not been in bed all night, and flew to the door now, fearing +that Waters' knock was the dreaded message which she had been expecting +from the hospital.</p> + +<p>"'Tis only me, ma'am," said Waters, "and you has no call to be frightened. +I want you just to put on your bonnet and shawl, and come right away with +me to the hospital. We has got to be let in somehow, for I must see Jo +directly."</p> + +<p>"For aught I know," said Mrs. Aylmer, "little Jo may be singing with the +angels now."</p> + +<p>"We must hope not, ma'am, for I want that little Jo of yours to live. She +has got to live for our Miss Maggie's sake, and there is not a moment to +lose; so come away, ma'am, at once."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aylmer stared at Waters; then, because she felt very weak, and feeble, +and wretched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> herself, she allowed the stronger woman to guide her, and the +two went out without another word being said on either side.</p> + +<p>It was, of course, against all rules for visitors to be admitted at five +o'clock in the morning; but in the case of mothers and dying children such +rules are apt to become lax, and the two women presently found themselves +behind the screen which sheltered little Jo from her companions.</p> + +<p>"She won't hear you now," said the nurse; "she has not noticed any one for +many hours." Waters looked round her almost despairingly—the poor mother +had sunk down by the bedside, and had covered her face with her hands. +Waters, too, covered her face, and as she did so she prayed to her Father +in heaven with great fervor and strong faith and hope. After this brief +prayer she knelt by the little white cot, and took the cold little hand of +the child who was every moment going further away from the shore of life.</p> + +<p>"Little Jo," she said, "you have got to live. I don't believe God wishes +you to die, and you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> mustn't wish it either. You have got your work to do, +Jo; do you hear me? Look at me, pretty one—you have got to live."</p> + +<p>Waters spoke clearly, and in a very decided voice. The little one's violet +eyes opened for a brief instant and fixed themselves on the anxious, +pleading woman; both the nurse and the mother came close to the bed in +breathless astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Have you got a cordial?" said Waters, turning to the nurse. "Give it to +me, and let me put it between her lips."</p> + +<p>The nurse gave her a few drops out of a bottle, and Waters wetted the +parched lips of the child.</p> + +<p>"There's another little one, my pretty, and she's waiting for you. If you +go I fear she'll go, but if you stay I think she'll stay. There are them +who would break their hearts without her, and she ought to do a good work +down on the earth. Will you stay for her sake, little Jo?" Here the sick +child moved restlessly, and Waters continued.</p> + +<p>"Send her a message, Jo Aylmer," she said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> "Tell her where you two are +next to meet—in the country, where the grass is green, or in—heaven. Oh, +Jo! do say you will meet Miss Maggie in the cool, shady, lovely country, +and wait until by and by for heaven, my pretty lamb."</p> + +<p>Whether God really heard Waters' very earnest prayer, or whether little Jo +was at that moment about to take a turn for the better, she certainly +opened her eyes again full and bright and wide, and quite intelligible +words came from her pretty lips.</p> + +<p>"My day-dream," said little Jo Aylmer; "tell her—tell her to meet me where +the grass is green."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE WOOD.</h3> + + +<p>The little princess of Tower Hill and the child of the poor laundress were +both pronounced out of danger. Death no longer with his terrible sickle +hovered over these pretty flowers; they were to make beautiful the garden +of earth for the present.</p> + +<p>Waters felt quite sure in her own heart that she, under God, had been the +means of saving Maggie's life, for Maggie had smiled so sweetly and +contentedly when Waters had brought her back the other child's message, and +after that she had ceased to speak about meeting Jo in heaven.</p> + +<p>When the scales were turned and the children were pronounced out of danger, +they both grew rapidly better, and at the end of a fortnight Maggie was +able to sit up for a few moments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> at a time, and almost to fatigue those +about her with her numerous inquiries about Jo.</p> + +<p>Every day Waters went to the hospital, and came back with reports of the +sick child, whose progress toward recovery was satisfactory, only not quite +so rapid as Maggie's.</p> + +<p>At last the doctor gave Sir John and Lady Ascot permission to take their +little darling back to Tower Hill. Mrs. Grenville accompanied her brother +and sister and little niece; and of course in the country Maggie would have +the great happiness of meeting Ralph again.</p> + +<p>Ralph by this time had taken the hearts of Miss Grey and the numerous +servants at Tower Hill by storm. He was thoroughly at home and thoroughly +happy, assumed a good deal the airs of a little autocrat, and had more or +less his own way in everything. He was delighted to see Maggie, and +immediately drew her away from the rest to talk to her and consult her on +various subjects.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 428px;"> +<img src="images/illus167.jpg" width="428" height="650" alt="He Put His Arm Around His Little Cousin.—Page 158." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He Put His Arm Around His Little Cousin.—<a href="#Page_158">Page 158.</a></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You look rather white and peaky, Mag, but you'll soon brown up now you've +got into the real country. You must run about a great deal, and forget that +you were ever ill. You mustn't even mind being a little tottery upon your +legs at first. I know you must be tottery, because I've been consulting +Miss Grey about it, and she once had rheumatic fever, and she used to +totter about after it awfully; but the great thing is not to be sentimental +over it, but to determine that you will get back your muscle. Now what do +you think I have found? Come round with me into the shrubbery and you shall +see."</p> + +<p>Ralph's words were decidedly a little rough and tonicky, but his actions +were more considerate, for he put his arm round his little cousin and led +her quite gently away. Maggie found the sweet country air delicious; she +was also very happy to feel Ralph's arm round her waist, and she could not +help giving his little brown hand a squeeze.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd kiss me, Ralph," she said. "I have thought of you so often +when I was getting better; I know you must think me not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> much of a +playfellow, and I am so sorry that I began by vexing you about the +rabbits."</p> + +<p>"I'll kiss you, of course, Mag," said Ralph. "I don't think kisses are at +all interesting things myself, but I'd do a great deal more than that to +make you happy, for I was really, really sorry when you were ill. I don't +think you're at all a bad sort of playfellow, Mag—I mean for a girl. And +as to the rabbits, why, that was the best deed you ever did. You are coming +to see my dear bunnies now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ralph, you don't mean Bianco and Lily?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I mean my darling white beauties that Jo gave me. I found them again +in the wood, and they have grown as friendly as possible. I don't shut them +up in any hutch; they live in the wood and they come to me when I call +them. Yesterday I found that they had made a nest, and the nest was full of +little bunnies, all snow white, and with long hair like the father and +mother. I'm going to show you the nest now."</p> + +<p>At the thought of this delightful sight Maggie's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> cheeks became very pink, +her blue eyes danced, and she forgot that her legs were without muscle, and +even tried to run in her excitement and pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, Mag!" laughed her cousin; "the bunnies aren't going to +hide themselves, and we'll find them all in good time. You may walk with +those tottery legs of yours, but you certainly cannot run. Here, now we're +at the entrance to the wood; now I'll help you over the stile."</p> + +<p>The children found the nest of lovely white rabbits, and spent a very happy +half-hour sitting on the ground gazing at them.</p> + +<p>Then Maggie began to confide a little care, which rested on her heart about +Jo, to her cousin.</p> + +<p>"She has got well again, you know, Ralph, and I promised she should meet me +in the country somewhere where the grass is green, and yet I don't know how +she's to come. I have got no money, and Jo has got no money, and father and +mother don't say any thing about it. It would be a dreadful thing for Jo to +stay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> away from heaven—for she was very, very near going to heaven, +Ralph—and then to find that I had broken my word to her, and that after +all we were never to see each other where the grass is green."</p> + +<p>"It would be worse than dreadful," answered Ralph, "it would be downright +cruel and wicked. Dear little Jo! she'd like to come here and look at the +bunnies, wouldn't she? Well, I've got no money either, and she can't be got +into the country without money; that I do know. Perhaps I'd better speak to +mother about it."</p> + +<p>But Ralph, when he did question Mrs. Grenville on the subject, found her +wonderfully silent, and in his opinion unsympathetic. She said that she +could not possibly interfere with Sir John and Lady Ascot in their own +place, and that if she were Ralph she would let things alone, and trust to +the Ascots doing what was right in the matter.</p> + +<p>But Ralph was not inclined to take this advice.</p> + +<p>"I like Maggie for being good about Jo," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> said, "and Jo shan't be +disappointed. I'll go myself to Uncle John; he probably only needs to have +the thing put plainly to him."</p> + +<p>Sir John listened to the little boy's somewhat excited remarks with an +amused twinkle in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"So the princess has sent you to me, my lad?" he said. "You tell her to +keep her little mind tranquil, and to try to trust her old father."</p> + +<p>Little Jo Aylmer came very slowly back to health and strength, but at last +there arrived a day when the hospital nurse pronounced her cured, and when +her mother arrived in a cab to take her away.</p> + +<p>The hospital nurse had tears in her eyes when she kissed Jo, and the other +sick children in the ward were extremely sorry to say good-by to her, for +little Jo, without making any extraordinary efforts, indeed without making +any efforts at all, had a wonderful faculty for inspiring love. No doubt +she was sympathetic, and no doubt also she was self-forgetful, and her +ready tact prevented her saying the words<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> which might hurt or doing the +deeds which might annoy, and these apparently trivial traits in her +character may have helped to make her popular. On that particular sunshiny +afternoon the preparations made by certain excited little people in +Philmer's Buildings were great. From the day Jo was pronounced out of +danger Susy had begun to recover her spirits, and at any rate to forgive +herself for her conduct in the matter of the tambourine. She had not spent +any of the seven shillings which the pawnbroker had given for poor Maggie's +best hat; it had all been securely tucked away in her best white cotton +pocket-handkerchief, and neither her mother nor the boys knew of its +existence, for to purchase a tambourine while Jo was so ill, and Maggie +supposed to be dying was beyond even thoughtless Susy's desires.</p> + +<p>After her own fashion, this rather heedless little girl had suffered a good +deal during the past weeks, and suffering did her good, as it does all +other creatures.</p> + +<p>Now, while the boys were very busy getting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> the room into a festive +condition for Jo, Susy quietly and softly withdrew one shilling from her +mysterious hoard, and went out to make purchases. A shilling means almost +nothing to some people; they spend it on utter rubbish—they virtually +throw it away. This was, however, by no means the case with Susy Aylmer; +she knew a shilling's worth to the uttermost farthing, and it was +surprising with what a number of parcels she returned home.</p> + +<p>"Now, Ben and Bob, we'll lay the tea-table," she said, addressing her +excited little brothers. "Yere, put the cloth straight, do—you know as Jo +can't abide nothing crooked. Now then, out comes the fresh loaf as mother +bought; pop it on the cracked plate, and put it here, a little to one +side—it looks more genteel—not right away in the very middle. Here goes +the teapot—oh, my! ain't it a pity as the spout is cracked off?—and +here's the little yaller jug for the milk! Here's butter, too—Dosset, but +not bad. Now then, we begins on my purchases. A slice of 'am on this tiny +plate for Jo; red herrings, which we'll toast up and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> make piping hot +presently; a nice little bundle of radishes, creases ditto. Oh, my heyes! I +do like creases, they're so nice and biting. Now then, what 'ave we +'ere?—why, a big packet of lollipops; I got the second quality of +lollipops, so I 'as quite a big parcel; and the man threw in two over, +'cause I said they was for a gal just out of 'ospital. Shrimps is in this +'ere bag. Now, boys, there ain't none of these 'ere for you, they're just +for mother and Jo, and no one else—don't you be greedy, Ben and Bob, for +ef you are, I'll give you something to remember. Yere's a real fresh egg, +which must be boiled werry light—that's for Jo, of course—and 'ere's a +penn'orth of dandy-o-lions to stick in the middle of the table. Yere they +goes into this old brown cracked jug, and don't they look fine? Well, I'm +sure I never see'd a more genteel board."</p> + +<p>The boys thoroughly agreed with Susy on this point, and while they were +skipping and dancing about, and making many dives at the tempting eatables, +and Susy was chasing them with loud whoops, half of anger, half of mirth,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +about the room, Mrs. Aylmer and the little pale, spiritual-looking sister +arrived.</p> + +<p>At the sight of Jo the children felt their undue excitement +subsiding—their happiness became peace, as it always did in her blessed +little presence.</p> + +<p>There was no wrangling or quarreling over the tea-table—the look of pretty +Jo lying on her sofa once again kept the boys from being over-greedy, and +reduced Susy's excitement to due bounds.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aylmer said several times, "I'm the werry happiest woman in London," +and her children seemed to think that they were the happiest children.</p> + +<p>The pleasant tea-hour came, however, to an end at last, and Susy was just +washing up the cups and saucers and putting the remainder of the feast into +the cupboard, when the whole family were roused into a condition of most +alert attention by a sharp and somewhat imperative knock on the room door.</p> + +<p>"Dear heart alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Aylmer. "Whoever can that be? It sounds +like the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> landlord, only I paid my bit of rent yesterday."</p> + +<p>"It's more likely to be some one after you as laundress, mother," remarked +practical Susy; and then Ben flew across the room and, opening the door +wide, admitted no less a person than Sir John Ascot himself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aylmer had never seen him, and of course did not know what an +important visitor was now coming into her humble little room. Susy, +however, knew Maggie's father, and felt herself turning very white, and +took instant refuge behind Jo's sofa.</p> + +<p>"Now, which is little Jo?" said Sir John, coming forward and peering round +him. "I've come here specially to-day to see a child whom my own little +girl loves very much. I've something to say to that child, and also to her +mother. My name is Ascot, and I dare say you all, good folks, have heard of +my dear little girl Maggie."</p> + +<p>"Miss Maggie!" exclaimed Jo, a delicate pink coming into her face, and her +sweet violet eyes becoming, not tearful, but misty. "Are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> you Miss Maggie's +father, sir? I seems to be near to Miss Maggie somehow."</p> + +<p>"So you are, little lassie," said the baronet; and then he glanced from +pretty Jo to the other children, and from her again to her mother, as +though he could not quite account for such a fragile and pure little flower +among these plants of sturdy and common growth.</p> + +<p>"My little Jo favors her father, Sir John," said Mrs. Aylmer, dropping a +profound courtesy and dusting a chair with her apron for the baronet. "Will +you be pleased to be seated, sir?" she went on. "We're all pleased to see +you here—pleased and proud, and that's not saying a word too much. And how +is the dear, beautiful little lady, Sir John, and Master Ralph, bless him?"</p> + +<p>"My little girl is well again, thank God, Mrs. Aylmer, and Ralph is as +sturdy a little chap as any heart could desire. Yes, I will take a seat +near Jo, if you please. I've a little plan to propose, which I hope she +will like, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> which you, Mrs. Aylmer, will also approve of. This is it."</p> + +<p>Then Sir John unfolded a deep-laid plot, which threw the Aylmer family into +a state of unspeakable rapture. To describe their feelings would be beyond +any ordinary pen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THANK GOD FOR ALL.</h3> + + +<p>On a certain lovely evening in the beginning of September, when the air was +no longer too warm, and the whole world seemed bathed in absolute peace and +rest, little Maggie Ascot and her Cousin Ralph might have been seen +walking, with their arms round each other, in very deep consultation. +Maggie was quite strong again, had got her roses back, and the bright light +of health in her blue eyes. She and Ralph were pacing slowly up and down a +shady path not far from the large entrance gates.</p> + +<p>"I can't think what it means," exclaimed Maggie; "it is the fourth time +Aunt Violet has gone up there to-day, and Susan the scullery-maid has gone +with her now, carrying an enormous basket. Susan let me peep into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> it, and +it was full of all kinds of goodies. She said it was for the new laundress. +I never knew such a fuss to make about a laundress."</p> + +<p>Here Ralph thought it well to administer a little reproof.</p> + +<p>"That's because you haven't been taught to consider the poor," he said. +"Why shouldn't a laundress have nice things done for her? and if this is a +poor lonely stranger coming from a long way off, it's quite right for +mother to welcome her. Mother always thinks you can't do too much for +lonely people, and she'll wash your dresses all the whiter if she thinks +you're going to be kind and attentive. Why, Maggie, our little Jo's mother +is a laundress, you forget that. Laundresses are most respectable people."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Jo's name Maggie sighed.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing at all been done about her, Ralph," she said. "Nobody +seems to take any notice when I speak about her. She must be tired of +waiting and watching by this time. She must be dreadfully sorry that she +did not go away to heaven and God; for she must know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> now that I never +meant anything when I wanted to meet her in the country—and yet I did, +Ralph, I did!"</p> + +<p>Here Maggie's blue eyes grew full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Mag," replied her little cousin soothingly; "it is very odd, +and I don't understand it a bit, but mother says things are sure to come +right, and you know Uncle John wished us to trust him."</p> + +<p>"But the time is going on," said Maggie; "the summer days will go, and Jo +won't have seen the lovely country where the grass is green. Oh! Ralph, we +must do something."</p> + +<p>"If only Mrs. Aylmer were the new laundress!" began Ralph. "You can't think +what a nice cottage that is, Mag—four lovely rooms, and such a nice, nice +kitchen, with those dear little lattice panes of glass in the window, and +lots of jasmine and Virginia creeper peeping in from outside, and a green +field for the laundress to dry her clothes in, just beyond. Poor laundress! +she will like that field awfully, and it would be very unkind of us to wish +to take it away from her and give it to Mrs. Aylmer, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> of course Mrs. +Aylmer knows nothing about it, and the new laundress has probably arrived, +and set her heart on it by this time; and she may be a widow, too, with +lots and lots of little children."</p> + +<p>"But none of the children could be like Jo," said Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps not," answered Ralph. "Oh, here comes mother; let's run to +meet her. Mother darling, has the new laundress come?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ralph, she and her family arrived about an hour ago; they are +settling down nicely into the cottage, and seem to be respectable people. +They all think the cottage very comfortable."</p> + +<p>"And are you going to see them again to-night, Auntie Violet?" asked Maggie +with rather a sorrowful look on her little face.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, Maggie; they are all strangers here, you know, and I fancy they +rather feel that, so it might be nice to walk up presently and take a cup +of tea with them. There are some children, so you and Ralph might come +too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you how mother considered the poor?" here whispered Ralph, +poking the little princess rather violently in the side. "Oh, yes, mother, +we'd like to go to tea with the little laundresses. Is there anything we +could take them—anything they would like, to show that we sympathize with +them for having come so far, and having left their old home?"</p> + +<p>"They don't seem at all melancholy, Ralph," said Mrs. Grenville, smiling, +"and when they have seen you and Maggie, I fancy they will none of them +have anything further to desire to-night. Why, Maggie dear, you look quite +sad; what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I am thinking of little Jo," whispered Maggie. "Her mother is a laundress, +too, and she's poor. Why couldn't you have considered the poor in the shape +of Jo's mother, Aunt Violet?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Grenville stooped down and kissed Maggie.</p> + +<p>"Here come your father and mother," she said, "and I know they too want to +see the new people who have come to the pretty cottage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> Now let us all set +off. I told the laundress and her family that you were coming to have tea +with them, Maggie and Ralph. Suppose you two run on in front; you know the +cottage and you know the way."</p> + +<p>"Tell the good folks we'll look in on them presently," shouted Sir John +Ascot, and then the children took each other's hands and ran across some +fields to the laundress' cottage. They heard some sounds of mirth as they +drew near, and saw two rather wild little boys tumbling about, turning +somersaults and standing on their heads; they also heard a high-pitched +voice, and caught a glimpse of a remarkably round and red face, and it +seemed to Maggie that the voice and the face were both familiar, although +she could not quite recall where she had seen them before.</p> + +<p>"We must introduce ourselves quite politely," said Ralph as they walked up +the narrow garden path. "Now here we are; I'll knock with my knuckles. I +wish I knew the laundress' name. It seems rude to say, 'Is the laundress +in?' for of course she has got a name, and her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> name is just as valuable to +her as ours are to us. How stupid not to have found out what she is really +called. Perhaps we had better inquire for Mrs. Robbins; that's rather a +common name, and yet not too common. It would never do to call her Mrs. +Smith or Jones, for if she wasn't Smith or Jones, she wouldn't like it. +Now, Maggie, I'll knock rather sharp, and when the new laundress opens the +door you are to say, 'Please is Mrs. Robbins the laundress in?'"</p> + +<p>All this time the girl with the red face was making little darts to the +lattice window and looking out, and there were some stifled sounds of mirth +from the boys with the high-pitched voices.</p> + +<p>"The laundress' family are in good spirits," remarked Ralph, and then he +gave a sharp little knock, and Maggie prepared her speech.</p> + +<p>"Please is the new—is Mrs. Rob—is, is—oh! Ralph, why, it's Mrs. Aylmer +herself!"</p> + +<p>Nothing very coherent after this discovery was uttered by any one for +several minutes. Maggie found herself kneeling by Jo, with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> arms round +Jo's neck, and two little cheeks, both wet with tears, were pressed +together, and two pair of lips kissed each other. That kiss was a solemn +one, for the two little hearts were full.</p> + +<p>In different ranks, belonging almost to two extremes, the child of riches +and the child of poverty knew that they possessed kindred spirits, and that +their friendship was such that circumstances were not likely again to +divide them. Waters was right when she said there was a strong link between +Maggie and Jo.</p> + +<p>That is the story, an episode, after all, in the life of the little +princess, but an episode which was to influence all her future days.</p> + + +<p>THE END.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h2>TOM, PEPPER, AND TRUSTY.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Therefore, to this dog will I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tenderly, not scornfully,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Render praise and favor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my hand upon his head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is my benediction said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Therefore, and forever."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">—<span class="smcap">E. B. Browning.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>THE THREE FRIENDS.</h3> + + +<p>A child and a dog sat very close to the fast-expiring embers of a small +fire in a shabby London attic.</p> + +<p>The dog was very old, with palsied, shaking limbs, eyes half-blind, and an +appearance about his whole person of almost disreputable ugliness and +decrepitude, He was a large white-and-liver-colored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> dog, of no particular +breed, and certainly of no particular beauty. Never, even in his best days, +could this dog have been at all good-looking. The child who crouched close +to him was small and thin. He was a pale child, with big, sorrowful eyes, +and that shrunken appearance of the whole little frame which proclaims but +too clearly that bread-and-milk have not sufficiently nourished it.</p> + +<p>He sat very close to the old dog, half-supporting himself against him; his +head was bent forward on his little chest—he was half-asleep.</p> + +<p>A little apart from the dog and the sleepy child stood a very bright boy, a +boy with rosy cheeks and sparkling eye. He poised himself for a moment on +one leg, kicked off the snow from his ragged trousers with the other, then +flinging his cap and an old broom into a corner of the attic, he sang out +in a clear, ringing tone:</p> + +<p>"Hillow! Pepper and Trusty, is that h'all the welcome yer 'ave to give to a +feller?"</p> + +<p>At the first sound of his voice the dog feebly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> wagged his tail and the +little child started to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Hillow!" he answered with a pitiful attempt at the elder boy's +cheerfulness; "I 'opes as yer 'ave brought h'in some supper, Tom."</p> + +<p>"See yere," said Tom, just turning back a morsel of his ragged jacket to +show what really was still a pocket. This pocket bunched out now in a most +suggestive manner, and Pepper, thrusting in his tiny hand, pulled from it +the following heterogeneous mixture: an old bone—very bare of even the +pretense of meat; an orange; some nuts; a piece of moldy bread, and a nice +little crisp loaf; also twopence and a halfpenny.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it prime, Pepper?" said the elder boy. "Yere's the bone for old +Trusty, and the broken bread, and the pretty little loaf, and the nuts, and +th' orange, for you and me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom! where did you get the nuts?"</p> + +<p>"They were throwing 'em to a dancing monkey, and an old 'oman gave me a +handful h'all to myself. I say, didn't I clutch 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Well, let's crunch 'em up now," said Pepper,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> whose face had grown quite +bright with anticipation.</p> + +<p>"And give Trusty his bone," said Tom. "I picked it h'out o' the gutter, and +washed it at the pump. 'Tis a real juicy bone—full o' marrow. Yere, old +feller! Don't he move his lazy h'old sides quickly now, Pepper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Pepper, clapping his tiny hands.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>WHY HE WAS CALLED TRUSTY.</h3> + + +<p>The two little boys and the dog ate their supper in perfect silence, the +only noise to be heard during the meal being the crunching of three sets of +busy teeth. Then, the fire being quite out, the children lay down on a +dirty mattress in a corner of the room, and Trusty curled himself up at +their feet.</p> + +<p>However lazy Trusty might be in the daytime while the fire was alight, at +night he always assumed the character of a protector. Let the slightest +sound arise, above, around, or beneath him, and he raised a bay, cracked it +is true, but still full of unspeakable consolation to the timid heart of +little Pepper.</p> + +<p>In the daytime Pepper was often guilty of very wicked and treacherous +thoughts about Trusty. When he was so often hungry, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> could seldom enjoy +more than half a meal, why must Tom, however little money or food he +brought in after his day's sweeping, always insist on Trusty having his +full share? Why must Tom—on those rare occasions when he was a little +cross and discontented—too cross and discontented to take much notice of +him (Pepper), yet still put his arms so lovingly round the old dog's neck? +and why, why above all things must Trusty be so very selfish about their +tiny fire, sitting so close to it, and taking all its warmth into his own +person, while poor little Pepper shivered by his side?</p> + +<p>Pepper was younger than Trusty, and he never remembered the day when the +dog was not a great person in his home; he never remembered the day when +his mother, however poor and pinched, had not managed, with all the +good-will in the world, to pay the dog-tax for him.</p> + +<p>And when that mother—six months ago—died, she had enjoined on Tom, almost +with her last breath, the necessity of continuing this,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> and whatever +straits they were placed in, begged of them never to forsake the old dog in +his need.</p> + +<p>Of course Pepper knew the reason of all this love and care for old Trusty; +and the reason, notwithstanding those treacherous and discontented thoughts +in which he now and then found himself indulging, filled him with not a +little pride and pleasure. It was because of him—of him, poor little +insignificant Pepper—that his mother and Tom loved Trusty so well. For +when he was a baby Trusty had saved his life.</p> + +<p>How Pepper did love to hear that story! How he used to climb on his +mother's knee, and curl in her arms, and get her to tell it to him over and +over again; and then, as he listened, his big, dark eyes used to get bright +and wondering, while he pictured to himself the country home with the roses +growing about the porch; and the pretty room inside, and the cradle where +he lay warm and sheltered. Then, how his heart did beat when his mother +spoke of that dreadful day when she went out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> and left him in charge of a +neighbor's daughter, paying no heed to his real caretaker, the large strong +dog—young then, who lay under the table.</p> + +<p>How often his cheek had turned pale, as his mother went on to tell him how +the neighbor's daughter first built up the fire, and then, growing tired of +her dull occupation, went away and left him alone with no companion but the +dog. And then, how his father, returning from his day's work, had rushed in +with a cry of horror, to find the cradle burned and some of the other +furniture on fire; but the baby himself lying, smiling and uninjured, in a +corner of the room; for the brave dog had dragged him from his dangerous +resting-place, and had himself put out the flames as they began to catch +his little night-shirt. Trusty was severely burned, and for the rest of his +days was blind of one eye and walked with a limp; but he earned the undying +love and gratitude of the father and mother for his heroic conduct.</p> + +<p>After this adventure his name was changed from Jack to Trusty, and any +member of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> family would rather have starved than allow Trusty to want. +Pepper never listened to this exciting tale without his chest beginning to +heave, and a moisture of love and compunction filling his brown eyes.</p> + +<p>To-night, as he lay curled up as close as possible to Tom, with Trusty +keeping his feet warm by lying on them, he thought of it all over again. As +he thought, he felt even more than his usual sorrow, for he had certainly +been very cross to Trusty to-day. These feelings and recollections so +occupied him that he forgot to chatter away as usual, until, looking up +suddenly, he felt that his brother's eyes were closing—in short, that Tom +was going to sleep.</p> + +<p>Now, of all the twenty-four hours that comprised Pepper's day and night, +there was none that compared with the hour when he lay in his brother's +arms, and talked to him, and listened to his adventures. This hour made the +remaining twenty-three endurable; in short, it was his golden hour—his +hour marked with a red letter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom!" he said now, rousing himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> and speaking in a voice almost +tearful, so keen was his disappointment, "yer never agoin' to get drowsy?"</p> + +<p>"Not I," answered Tom, awakened at once by the sorrowful tones, and +half-sitting up. "Wot is it, Pepper? I'm as lively as a lark, I am."</p> + +<p>"Yer h'eyes were shut," said Pepper.</p> + +<p>"Well, and your mouth wor shut, Pepper, that wor wy I fastened h'up my +h'eyes, to save time."</p> + +<p>"Tom," said Pepper, creeping very close to his big brother, "does yer +really think as yer'll 'ave the money saved h'up for dear old Trusty's tax, +wen the man comes fur it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! I 'opes so; there's three months yet."</p> + +<p>"'E's a dear old dog," said Pepper, in an emphatic voice, "and I won't mind +wot Pat Finnahan says 'bout 'im."</p> + +<p>"Wot's that?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom! 'e comes h'in, some days, wen 'tis bitter cold, and Trusty 'ave +got hisself drawed in front o' the fire (Trusty do take h'up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> h'all the +fire, Tom) and 'e says as Trusty is h'eatin' us h'out o' 'ouse and 'ome, +and ef you pays the tax fur 'im, wy, yer'll be the biggest fool h'out."</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said Tom, "'e must be a nice 'un, 'e must! Why, Trusty's a sight +better'n him, and a sight better worth lookin' arter."</p> + +<p>This remark of Tom's, uttered with great vehemence, startled Pepper so much +that he lay perfectly silent, staring up at his big brother. The moonlight, +which quite filled the attic, enabled him to see Tom's face very +distinctly.</p> + +<p>A strongly marked face, and full of character at all times; it was now also +so full of disgust that Pepper quite trembled.</p> + +<p>"Well, he is a mean 'un," continued Tom. "See if I don't lay it on him the +next time I catches of him coming spyin' in yere; and, Pepper," he added, +"I'm real consarned as yer should 'ave listened to such words."</p> + +<p>"'Ow could I 'elp it?" answered Pepper. "'E comed h'in, and 'e kicked at +Trusty. I didn't want fur h'old Trusty not to be paid fur, Tom."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should 'ope not, indeed," replied Tom; "that 'ud be a nice pass for us +two boys to fursake Trusty. But look yere, Pepper. Yer never goin' to be +untrue to yer name, be yer?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom! 'ow so?"</p> + +<p>"Does yer know wy Trusty was called Trusty?"</p> + +<p>Now, of course, Pepper knew no story in the world half so well, but at this +question of Tom's he nestled close so him, raised beseeching eyes, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Tell us."</p> + +<p>"'E wor called Trusty," continued Tom, "'cause wen yer were a little 'un he +wor faithful. Trusty means faithful; it means a kind of a body wot won't +fursake another body what-h'ever 'appens. That wor wy father and mother +changed 'is name from Jack to Trusty, 'cause 'e wor faithful to you, +Pepper."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Pepper, half-sobbing, and feeling very gently with his toes +the motion of Trusty's tail; for Trusty, hearing his name mentioned so +often, was beating it softly up and down.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And does yer know wy you was called Pepper?" continued Tom, by no means +intending to abate the point and the object of his lecture by the break in +Pepper's voice.</p> + +<p>"Tell us," said the little child again.</p> + +<p>"You was christened Hen-e-ry [Henry]; but, lor! Pepper, that wor no name +fur yer. That name meant some 'un soft and h'easy. But, bless yer, young +'un! there wor nothink soft nor h'easy about yer. What a firebrand yer +were—flying h'out at h'everybody—so touchy and sparky-like, that mother +wor sure you 'ad got a taste o' the fire as poor Trusty saved yer from, +until, at last, there wor no name 'ud suit yer but Pepper. Lor, lad, wot a +spirrit yer 'ad then!"</p> + +<p>With these words Tom turned himself round on his pillow, and, having spoken +his mind, and being in consequence quite comfortable, dropped quickly to +sleep. But to poor little Pepper, listening breathlessly for another word, +that first snore of Tom's was a very dreadful one. He knew then that there +was no hope that night of any further words with Tom. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> must lie all +night under the heavy weight of Tom's displeasure; for, of course, Tom was +angry, or he would never have turned away with such despairing and +contemptuous words on his lips. As Pepper thought of this he could not +quite keep down a rising sob, for the Tom who he felt was angry with him +meant father, mother, conscience—everything—to the poor little fellow.</p> + +<p>And Tom had cause for his anger; this was what gave it its sting. There was +no doubt that Pepper was not at all the spirited little boy he had been +during his mother's lifetime—the brave little plucky fellow, who was +afraid of no one, and who never would stoop to a mean act. How well he +remembered that scene a few months ago, when a rough boy had flung a stone +at Trusty—yes! and hit him, and made him howl with the cruel pain he had +inflicted; and then how Pepper had fought for him, and given his cowardly +assailant a black eye, and afterward how his mother and Tom had praised +him. Oh, how different he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> now from then! His tears flowed copiously as +he thought of it all.</p> + +<p>But the times were also different. Since his mother's death he had spent +his days so much alone, and those long days, spent in the old attic with no +companion but Trusty, had depressed his spirit and undermined his nerves. +The unselfish, affectionate little boy found new and strange thoughts +filling his poor little heart—thoughts to which, during his mother's +lifetime, he was altogether a stranger. He wished he was strong and big +like Tom, and could go out and sweep a crossing. It was dreadful to stay at +home all day doing nothing but thinking, and thinking, as he now knew, bad +thoughts. For the idea suggested by that wild, queer Irish boy downstairs +would not go away again.</p> + +<p>That boy had said with contempt, with even cutting sarcasm, how silly, how +absurd it was of two poor little beggars like himself and Tom to have to +support a great, large dog like Trusty; how hard it was to have to pay +Trusty's tax; how worse than ridiculous to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> have to share their morsel of +food with Trusty; and Pepper had pondered over these words so often that +his heart had grown sour and bitter against the old dog who had once saved +his life.</p> + +<p>But not to-night. To-night, as he lay in his bed and sobbed, that heart was +rising up and saying hard things against itself. Tom, with rough kindness, +had torn the veil from his eyes, and he saw that he had gone down several +pegs in the moral scale since his mother's death. Could his mother come +back to him now, would she recognize her own bright-spirited little Pepper +in this poor, weak, selfish boy? He could bear his own thoughts no longer; +he must not wake Tom, but he could at least make it up with Trusty. He +crept softly down in the bed until he reached the place where the old dog +lay, and then he put his arms round him and half-strangled him with hugs +and kisses.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Trusty!" he said, "I does love yer, and I 'opes as God 'ull always let +me be a real sperrited little 'un. I means h'always to stand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> up fur yer, +Trusty; and I'll be as fiery as red pepper to any 'un as says a word agen +yer, Trusty."</p> + +<p>To this fervent speech Trusty replied by raising a sleepy head and licking +Pepper's face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>TOM AT WORK.</h3> + + +<p>Early the next morning, long before Pepper was awake, Tom got up, washed +his face and hands in the old cracked hand-basin in one corner of the room, +laid a small fire in the grate, and put some matches near it, ready for +Pepper to strike when he chose to rise. These preparations concluded, he +thrust his hands into his ragged trousers pocket and pulled from thence +twopence and a halfpenny. The pence he laid on the three-legged stool, by +the side of the matches, the halfpenny he put for safety into his mouth. +Then, with a nod of farewell at the sleeping Pepper, and a pat of Trusty's +head, he shouldered his broom and ran downstairs. The month was January, +and at this early hour, for it was not yet eight o'clock, the outside world +gave to the little sweeper no warm welcome. There was a fog<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> and thaw, and +Tom, though he ran and whistled and blew his hot breath against his cold +fingers, could not get himself warm. With his halfpenny he bought himself a +cup of steaming coffee at the first coffee-stall he came to, then he ran to +his crossing, and began to sweep away with all the good-will in the world.</p> + +<p>The day, dismal as it was, promised to be a good one for his trade, and Tom +hoped to have a fine harvest to carry home to Pepper and Trusty to-night. +This thought made his bright face look still brighter. Perhaps, in all +London, there was not to be found a braver boy than this little +crossing-sweeper. He was only twelve years old, but he had family cares on +his young shoulders. For six months now—ever since his mother's death—he +had managed, he scarcely himself knew how, to keep a home for his little +brother, the old dog, and himself. He had proudly resolved that +Pepper—poor little tender Pepper—should never see the inside of a +workhouse. As long as he had hands, and wit, and strength, Pepper should +live with him. Not for worlds would he allow himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> to be parted from his +little brother. In some wonderful way he kept his resolve. Pepper certainly +grew very white, and weak, and thin; old Trusty's ribs stuck out more and +more, his one remaining eye looked more longingly every day at the morsel +of food with which he was provided; and Tom himself knew but too well what +hunger was. Still they, none of them, quite died of starvation; and the +rent of the attic in which they lived was paid week by week. This state of +things had gone on for months, Tom just managing, by the most intense +industry, to keep all their heads above water. As he swept away now at his +crossing, his thoughts were busy, and his thoughts, poor brave little boy! +were anxious ones.</p> + +<p>How very ill Pepper was beginning to look, and how strangely he had spoken +the night before about Trusty! Was it possible that his poor life of +semi-starvation was beginning to tell not only on Pepper's weak body, but +on his kind heart? Was Tom, while working almost beyond his strength, in +reality only doing harm by keeping Pepper out of the workhouse?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> Would that +dreadful workhouse after all be the best place for Pepper? and would his +fine brave spirit revive again if he had enough food and warmth? These +questions passed often through Tom's mind as he swept his crossing, but he +had another thought which engrossed him even more. He had spoken +confidently to Pepper about his ability to pay the tax for Trusty when the +time came round, but in reality he had great anxiety on that point. The +time when Trusty's tax would be due was still three months away—but three +months would not be long going by, and Tom had not a penny—not a farthing +toward the large sum which must then be demanded of him. It was beginning +to rest like a nightmare on his bright spirit, the fact that he might have +to break his word to his dying mother, that in three months' time the dear +old dog might have to go. After all, he, not Pepper, might be the one +faithless to their dear old Trusty.</p> + +<p>As he swept and cleaned the road so thoroughly that the finest lady might +pass by without a speck on her dainty boots, he resolved,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> suffer what +hunger he might, to put by one halfpenny a day toward the necessary money +which much be paid to save Trusty's life. With this resolve bright in his +eyes and firm on his rosy lips, he touched his cap to many a passer-by. But +what ailed the men and women, the boys and girls, who walked quickly over +Tom's clean crossing? They were all either too busy, or too happy, or too +careless, to throw a coin, even the smallest coin, to the hungry, +industrious little fellow. His luck was all against him; not a halfpenny +did he earn. No one read his story in his eyes, no one saw the invisible +arms of Pepper round his neck, nor felt the melting gaze of Trusty fixed on +his face. No one knew that he was working for them as well as for himself. +By noon the wind again changed and fresh snow began to fall.</p> + +<p>Tom knew that now his chance was worse than ever, for surely now no one +would stop to pull out a penny or a halfpenny—the cold was much too +intense. Tom knew by instinct that nothing makes people so selfish as +intense cold.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>When he left home that morning he had only a halfpenny in his pocket, +consequently he could get himself no better breakfast than a small cup of +coffee. The cold, and the exercise he had been going through since early +morning, had raised his healthy appetite to a ravenous pitch, and this, +joined to his anxiety, induced him at last to depart from his invariable +custom of simply touching his cap, and made him raise an imploring voice, +to beseech for the coins which he had honestly earned.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I'm h'awful cold and 'ungry—give us a penny—do, for pity's +sake," he said, addressing an elderly gentleman who was hurrying quickly to +his home in a square close by.</p> + +<p>Would the gentleman stop, pause, look at him? Would he slacken his pace the +least morsel in the world, or would he pass quickly on like those cross old +ladies whom he had last addressed? His heart, began to beat a trifle more +hopefully, for the old gentleman certainly did pause, pushed back his hat, +and gave him—not a penny, but a quick, sharp glance from under two shaggy +brows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I hate giving to beggars," he muttered, preparing to hurry off again. But +Tom was not to be so easily repressed.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I ain't a beggar. I works real 'ard, and I'm h'awful 'ungry, +please, sir."</p> + +<p>He was now following the old gentleman, who was walking on, but slowly, and +as though meditating with himself.</p> + +<p>"That's a likely story!" he said, throwing his words contemptuously at poor +Tom: "you, hungry! go and feed. You have your pocket full of pennies this +moment, which folks threw to you for doing nothing. I hate that idle work."</p> + +<p>"Oh! h'indeed, sir, I ain't nothink in 'em—look, please, sir."</p> + +<p>A very soiled pocket, attached to a ragged trouser, was turned out for the +old gentleman's benefit.</p> + +<p>"You have 'em in your mouth," replied the man. "I'm up to some of your +dodges."</p> + +<p>At this remark Tom grinned from ear to ear. His teeth were white and +regular. They gleamed in his pretty mouth like little pearls;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> thus the +heart-whole smile he threw up at the old gentleman did more for him than +all the tears in the world.</p> + +<p>"Well, little fellow," he said, smiling back, for he could not help +himself, "'tis much too cold now to pull out my purse—for I know you have +pence about you—but if you like to call at my house to-morrow +morning,—Russell Square, you shall have a penny."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, mayn't I call to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No, I shan't be home until ten o'clock this evening."</p> + +<p>"Give us a penny, please, now, sir, for I'm real, real 'ungry." This time +poor Tom very nearly cried.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! what a troublesome, pertinacious boy! I suppose I'd better get +rid of him—see, here goes——"</p> + +<p>He pulled his purse out of his pocket—how Tom hoped he would give him +twopence!</p> + +<p>"There, boy. Oh, I can't, I say. I have no smaller change than a shilling. +I can't help you, boy; I have not got a penny."</p> + +<p>"Please, please, sir, let me run and fetch the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>the change."</p> + +<p>"Well, I like that! How do I know that you won't keep the whole shilling?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yer may trust me, sir. Indeed, I'll bring the eleven-pence +to—Russell Square to-morrer mornin'."</p> + +<p>The old gentleman half-smiled, and again Tom showed his white teeth. If +there was any honesty left in the world it surely dwelt in that anxious, +pleading face. The old gentleman, looking down at it, suddenly felt his +heart beginning to thaw and his interest to be aroused.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I'm the greatest, biggest fool in the world. Still—No, I won't; +I hate being taken in; and yet he's a pleasant little chap. Well, I'll try +it, just as an experiment. See here, young 'un; if I trust you with my +shilling, when am I to see the change?"</p> + +<p>"At eight o'clock to-morrer mornin', sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to trust you. I never trusted a crossing-sweeper before."</p> + +<p>"H'all right, sir," answered Tom, taking off his cap and throwing back his +head.</p> + +<p>"There, then, you may spend twopence;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> bring me back tenpence. God bless +me, what a fool I am!" as he hurried away.</p> + +<p>This was not the only favor Tom got that day; but soon the lamps were +lighted, sleet and rain began to fall, and no more business could be +expected.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>IN TROUBLE.</h3> + + +<p>When Tom returned home that night, he had not only the old gentleman's +shilling unbroken in his pocket, but three pennies which had been given to +him since then, and which jingled and made a very nice sound against the +shilling. But though this was a pleasant state of affairs, there was +nothing pleasant in poor little Tom's face; its bright look had left it, it +was white and drawn, and he limped along in evident pain and difficulty. +The fact was, Tom had fallen in the snow, and had sprained his ankle very +badly. When he entered the house his pain was so great that he could +scarcely hobble upstairs.</p> + +<p>On the first landing he was greeted by the rough, rude tones of Pat +Finnahan, who stopped him with a loud exclamation, then shouted to his +mother that Tom had arrived.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Finnahan was Tom's Irish landlady, but as he did not owe her any rent +he was not afraid of her.</p> + +<p>She called to him now, however, and he stood still to listen to what she +had to say.</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, wisha, Tom, and when am I to see me own agen?" she demanded, +with a very strong Irish brogue.</p> + +<p>"Wot does yer mean?" asked Tom, staring at her. "I pays my rent reg'lar. I +owes yer nothink."</p> + +<p>"Oh, glory!" said Mrs. Finnahan, throwing up her hands, "the boy have the +imperence to ax me to my face what I manes. I manes the shilling as I lent +to yer mother, young man, and that I wants back agen; that's what I manes."</p> + +<p>At these words Tom felt himself turning very pale. He remembered perfectly +how, in a moment of generosity, Mrs. Finnahan had once lent his mother a +shilling, but he was quite under the impression that it had been paid back +some time ago.</p> + +<p>"I thought as my mother give it back to yer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> afore she died," he said, but +a great fear took possession of his heart while he spoke.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Finnahan pushed him from her, her red face growing purple.</p> + +<p>"Listen to the likes of him," she said; "he tells me to me face as 'tis +lies I'm afther telling. Oh, musha! but he's a black-hearted schoundrel. I +must have me shilling to-morrow, young man, or out you goes."</p> + +<p>With these words Mrs. Finnahan retired into her private apartment, slamming +the door behind her.</p> + +<p>"Tom," whispered Pat, who during this colloquy had stood by his side, "can +yer give mother that 'ere shilling to-morrer?"</p> + +<p>"Yer knows I can't," answered Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, she'll turn yer h'out, as sure as I'm Pat Finnahan."</p> + +<p>"I can't help her," answered Tom, preparing once more, as well as his +painful ankle would allow him, to mount the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I say?" continued Pat, "maybe I can do somethink."</p> + +<p>With these words the Irish boy began fumbling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> violently in his pocket, and +in a moment or two produced from a heterogeneous group a dull, battered +shilling. This shilling he exhibited in the palm of his hand, looking up at +Tom as he showed it, with an expression of pride and cunning in his small, +deep-set eyes.</p> + +<p>"Look yere, Tom. I really feels fur yer, fur mother's h'awful when she says +a thing. There's no hope of mother letting of yer off, Tom. No, not the +ghost of a hope. But see yere—this is my h'own. I got it—no matter 'ow I +got it, and I'll give it to yer fur yer h'old dog. The dog ain't nothink +but a burden on yer, Tom, and I'd like him. I'd give yer the shilling for +h'old Trusty, Tom."</p> + +<p>But at these words all the color rushed back to Tom's face.</p> + +<p>"Take that instead of Trusty," he said, aiming a blow with all his might +and main at Pat, and sending him and his shilling rolling downstairs. The +false strength with which his sudden indignation had inspired him enabled +him to get up the remaining stairs to his attic; but when once there, the +poor little sweeper nearly fainted.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>THE TEMPTATION.</h3> + + +<p>Perhaps on this dark evening there could scarcely be found in all London +three more unhappy creatures than those who crouched round the empty grate +in Tom's attic. In truth, over this poor attic rested a cloud too heavy for +man to lift, and good and bad angels were drawing near to witness the +issues of victory or defeat.</p> + +<p>"We'll get into bed," said Tom, looking drearily round the supperless, +fireless room. "Pepper," he continued as he pressed his arms round his +little brother, "should yer mind werry much going to the work'us arter +h'all?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes, Tom! Oh, Tom! ef they took me from yer, I'd die."</p> + +<p>"But ef we both went, Pepper?"</p> + +<p>"What 'ud come o' Trusty?" asked Pepper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I doesn't know the ways of work'uses," said Tom, speaking half to himself. +"Maybe they'll take h'in the h'old dog. Ef you and I were to beg of 'em a +little 'ard, they might take h'in old Trusty, Pepper."</p> + +<p>"But I doesn't want to go to no work'us," whispered Pepper.</p> + +<p>"I only says perhaps, Pepper," answered poor Tom. "I'd 'ate to go."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't let's think of it," said Pepper, putting up his lips to kiss +Tom. "Yer'll be better in the morning, Tom; and, Tom," he added, +half-timidly, half-exultantly, "I've been real sperrited h'all day. Pat +came in and began to talk 'bout dear Trusty, but I flew at him, I boxed im +right up h'in the ear, Tom."</p> + +<p>"Did yer really?" answered Tom, laughing, and forgetting the pain in his +ankle for the moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and 'e's nothink but a coward, Tom, fur 'e just runned away. I'll +never be a Hen-e-ry to him no more," added the little boy with strong +emphasis.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; yer a real nice, peppery young 'un," said Tom, "and I'm proud o' yer; +but now go to sleep, young 'un, for I 'as a deal to think about."</p> + +<p>"'Ow's the pain, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Werry 'ot and fiery like; but maybe 'twill be better in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Tom," said Pepper, creeping closer into his arms.</p> + +<p>Under the sweet influence of Tom's praise, resting in peace in the +delicious words that Tom was proud of him, poor hungry little Pepper was +soon enjoying dreamless slumber. But not so Tom himself.</p> + +<p>Tom had gone through a hard day's work. He was tired, aching in every limb, +but no kind sleep would visit that weary little body or troubled mind. His +sprained ankle hurt him sadly, but his mental anxiety made him almost +forget his bodily suffering. Dark indeed was the cloud that rested on Tom.</p> + +<p>His sprained ankle was bad enough—for how, with that swollen and aching +foot, could he go out to sweep his crossing to-morrow?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> And if the little +breadwinner was not at his crossing, where would the food come from for +Pepper and Trusty? This was a dark cloud, but, dark as it was, it might be +got over. Tom knew nothing of the tedious and lingering pain which a sprain +may cause; he quite believed that a day's rest in bed would make his foot +all right, and for that one day while he was in bed, they three—he, +Pepper, and Trusty—might manage not quite to starve, on the pence which +were over from that day's earnings. Yes, through this cloud could be seen a +possible glimmer of light. But the cloud that rested behind it! Oh, was +there any possible loophole of escape out of that difficulty?</p> + +<p>Tom had told nothing of this greater anxiety to Pepper. Nay, while Pepper +was awake he tried to push it away even from his own mental vision. But +now, in the night watches, he pulled it forward and looked at it steadily. +In truth, as the poor little boy looked, he felt almost in despair. Since +his mother's death he had managed to support his little household, and not +only to support them, but to keep them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> out of debt. No honorable man of +the world could keep more faithfully the maxim, "Owe no man anything, but +to love one another," than did this little crossing sweeper. But now, +suddenly, a debt, a debt the existence of which he had never suspected, +stared him in the face.</p> + +<p>His mother had borrowed a shilling from Mrs. Finnahan. Mrs. Finnahan +required that shilling back again.</p> + +<p>If that enormous sum—twelve whole pennies—was not forthcoming by +to-morrow, he and Pepper and Trusty would find themselves +homeless—homeless in mid-winter in the London streets. Tom knew well that +Mrs. Finnahan would keep her word; that nothing, no pleading language, no +entreating eyes, would induce Mrs. Finnahan to alter her cruel resolve. No; +into the streets they three must go. Tom did not mind the streets so very +much for himself, he was accustomed to them, at least all day long. But +poor little, tender, delicate Pepper, and old broken-down Trusty! Very, +very soon, those friendless, cold, desolate streets would kill Pepper and +Trusty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>As Tom thought of it scalding drops filled his brave, bright eyes and +rolled down his cheeks. It was a moonlight night, and its full radiance had +filled the little attic for an hour or more; but now the moon was hidden +behind a bank of cloud, and in the dark came to little Tom the darker +temptation. No way out of his difficulty? Yes, there were two ways. He +might sell Trusty to Pat Finnahan for a shilling—it was far, far better to +part with Trusty than to let Pepper die in the London streets; or he might +keep the old gentleman's shilling and never bring him back the tenpence he +had promised to return to-morrow morning.</p> + +<p>By one or other of these plans he might save Pepper from either dying or +going to the workhouse. As he thought over them both, the latter plan +presented itself as decidedly the most feasible. Both his pride and his +love revolted against the first. Part with Trusty? How he had blamed Pepper +when he had even hinted at Trusty being in the way! How very, very much his +mother had loved Trusty! how, even when she was dying, she had begged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> of +them both never to forsake the faithful old dog! Oh, he could not part with +the dog! if for no other reason, he loved him too much himself.</p> + +<p>At this moment, as though to strengthen him in his resolve, Trusty, who +from hunger and cold was by no means sleeping well, left his place at the +little boy's feet and came up close to Tom; lying down by Tom's side, he +put his paws on his shoulders and licked his face with his rough tongue; +and also, just then, as though further to help Trusty in his unconscious +pleading for his own safety, the moon came out from behind the cloud, +shedding its white light full on the boy and the dog; and oh! how pleading, +how melting, how full of tenderness did that one remaining eye of Trusty's +look to Tom as he gazed at him. Clasping his arms tightly round the old +dog's neck, Tom firmly determined that happen what would, he must never +part from Trusty.</p> + +<p>He turned his mind now resolutely to the other plan, the one remaining +loophole out of his despair. Need he give back that change to the old man?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was the question.</p> + +<p>The money he had pleaded so earnestly for still lay unbroken in his pocket; +for immediately after it had been given to him, fortune seemed to turn in +his favor, and other people had become not quite so stony-hearted, and a +few pence had fallen to his share. With two or three pence he had bought +himself some dinner, and he had brought threepence back, for Pepper's use +and his own.</p> + +<p>Yes, the shilling was still unbroken—and that shilling, just that one +shilling, would save them all.</p> + +<p>But—the old gentleman had trusted him—the old gentleman had said:</p> + +<p>"I never trusted a crossing-sweeper before. I am going to trust you."</p> + +<p>And Tom had promised him. Tom had pledged his word to bring him back +tenpence to-morrow morning.</p> + +<p>Strange as it may seem—incomprehensible to many who judge them by no high +standard—here was a little crossing-sweeper who had never told a lie in +his life. Here, lying on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> this trundle-bed, in this poor room, rested as +honorable a little heart as ever beat in human breast; he could not do a +mean act; he could not betray his trust and break his word.</p> + +<p>What would his mother say could she look down from heaven and find out that +her Tom had told a lie? No, not even to save Trusty and Pepper would he do +this mean, mean thing. But he was very miserable, and in his misery and +despair he longed so much for sympathy that he was fain at last to wake +Pepper.</p> + +<p>"Pepper," he said, "we never said no prayers to-night; fold yer 'ands, +Pepper, and say 'Our Father' right away."</p> + +<p>"Our Father chart heaven," began Pepper, folding his hands as he was +bidden, and gazing up with his great dark eyes at the moon, "hallowed be +thy name ... thy kingdom come ... thy will be done in earth h'as 'tis in +heaven ... give us this day h'our daily bread ... and furgive us h'our +trespasses h'as we furgive ... h'and lead us not into temptation——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yer may shut up there, Pepper," interrupted Tom; "go to sleep now, young +'un. I doesn't want no more."</p> + +<p>"Yes," added Tom, a few moments later, "that was wot I needed. I won't do +neither o' them things. Our Father, lead us not inter temptation. Our +Father, please take care on me, and Pepper, and Trusty."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>TRUE TO HIS NAME.</h3> + + +<p>It was apparently the merest chance in the world that brought the old +gentleman, who lived in—Russell Square, to his hall-door the next morning, +to answer, in his own person, a very small and insignificant-sounding ring. +When he opened the door he saw standing outside a very tiny boy, and by the +boy's side a most disreputable-looking dog.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the old gentleman, for he hated beggars, "what do you want? +Some mischief, I warrant."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," piped Pepper's small treble, "Tom 'ud come hisself, but 'e +'ave hurt 'is foot h'awful bad, so 'e 'ave sent me and Trusty wid the +tenpence, please, sir.'</p> + +<p>"What tenpence?" asked the old man, who had really forgotten the +circumstance of yesterday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Please, sir," continued Pepper, holding out sixpence and four dirty +pennies, "'tis the change from the shilling as yer lent to Tom."</p> + +<p>At these words the old gentleman got very red in the face, and stared with +all his might at Pepper. "Bless me!" he said suddenly; then he took hold of +Pepper's ragged coat-sleeve and drew him into the hall. "Wife," he called +out, "I say, wife, come here. Bless me! I never heard of anything so +strange. I have actually found an honest crossing-sweeper at last."</p> + +<p>But that is the story—for the old gentleman was as kind as he was +eccentric—and he failed not quickly to inquire into all particulars with +regard to Tom, Pepper, and Trusty; and then as promptly to help and raise +the three. Yes, that is the story.</p> + +<p>But in the lives of two prosperous men—for Tom and Pepper are men +now—there is never forgotten that dark night, when the little +crossing-sweeper risked everything rather than tell a lie or break a trust. +And Trusty was true to his name to the last.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> +<h2>BILLY ANDERSEN AND HIS TROUBLES.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>BILLY'S BABY.</h3> + + +<p>Billy was a small boy of ten; he was thin and wiry, had a freckled face, +and a good deal of short, rather stumpy red hair.</p> + +<p>He was by no means young-looking for his ten years; and only that his +figure was small, his shoulders narrow, and his little legs sadly like +spindles, he might have passed for a boy of twelve or thirteen.</p> + +<p>Billy had a weight of care upon his shoulders—he had the entire charge of +a baby.</p> + +<p>The baby was a year old, fairly heavy, fairly well grown; she was cutting +her teeth badly, and in consequence was often cross and unmanageable.</p> + +<p>Billy had to do with her night and day, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> no one who saw the two +together could for a moment wonder at the premature lines of care about his +small thin face.</p> + +<p>A year ago, on a certain January morning, Billy had been called away from a +delightful game of hop-scotch. A red-faced woman had come to the door of a +tall house, which over-looked the alley where Billy was playing so +contentedly, and beckoned him mysteriously to follow her.</p> + +<p>"Yer'd better make no noise, and take off those heavy clumps of shoes," she +remarked.</p> + +<p>Billy looked down at his small feet, on which some very large and +much-battered specimens of the shoemaker's craft were hanging loosely.</p> + +<p>"I can shuffle of 'em off right there, under the stairs," he remarked, +raising his blue eyes in a confident manner to the red-faced woman.</p> + +<p>She nodded, but did not trouble to speak further, and barefooted Billy +crept up the stairs; up and up, until he came to an attic room, which he +knew well, for it represented his home.</p> + +<p>He was still fresh from his hop-scotch, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> eager to go back to his game; +and when a thin, rather rasping woman's voice called him, he ran up eagerly +to a bedside.</p> + +<p>"Wot is it, mother? I want to go back to punch Tom Jones."</p> + +<p>Alas! for poor Billy—his fate was fixed from that moment, and the wild +bird was caged.</p> + +<p>"Another time, Billy," said his mother; "you 'as got other work to see to +now. Pull down the bedclothes, and look wot's under 'em."</p> + +<p>Billy eagerly drew aside the dirty counterpane and sheet, and saw a very +small and pink morsel of humanity—a morsel of humanity which greeted his +rough intrusion on her privacy with several contortions of the tiny +features, and some piercing screams.</p> + +<p>"Why, sakes alive, ef it ain't a baby," said Billy, falling back a step or +two in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Billy," replied his mother, "and she's to be your baby, for I can't +do no charring and mind her as well, so set down by the fire, this minute +and mind her right away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>Billy did not dream of objecting; he seated himself patiently and +instantly, and thought with a very faint sigh of Tom Jones, whose head he +so ached to punch.</p> + +<p>Tom Jones would be victorious at hop-scotch, and he would not be present to +abate his pride.</p> + +<p>Well, well, perhaps he could go to-morrow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>MORE TROUBLE.</h3> + + +<p>Day after day passed, and month after month, and Tom Jones, the bully of +Aylmer's Court, quite ceased to fear any assaults from a certain plucky and +wiry little fellow, who used to fly at him when he knocked down the girls, +and who made himself generally unpleasant to Tom, when Tom too violently +transgressed the principle of right and justice.</p> + +<p>Not that Billy Andersen knew anything of right and justice himself; he was +mostly guided by an instinct which taught him to dislike everything that +Tom did, and perhaps he was also a wee bit influenced by a sentiment which +made him dislike to see any thing weaker or smaller than himself bullied. +Since that January morning, however, Billy's head and heart and hands were +all too full for him to have any time to waste upon Tom Jones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girls and the very little ones of the court crowded round Billy the +first time he went out with his charge. One of the biggest of them, indeed, +carried the little thing right up into her own home, followed by a noisy +crowd eager to make friends with the little arrival. Billy was flattered by +their attentions, but he preferred to keep his charge entirely to himself.</p> + +<p>At first, it was his head and hands alone which were occupied over the +baby, but as she progressed under his small brotherly care, and wrinkled up +her tiny features with an ugly attempt at a smile, and stretched out her +limbs and cooed at him, he began gradually to discover that the baby was +getting into his heart. From the moment he became certain on this point, +all the irksomeness of his duties faded out of sight, and he did not mind +what care or trouble he expended over Sarah Ann.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Andersen, true to her word, had given Billy the entire charge of this +last addition to her family. Her husband had deserted her some months +before the birth of the baby, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> the poor woman had about as much as she +could do, in earning bread to put into her own mouth and those of her two +children.</p> + +<p>Now, it is grievous to relate that notwithstanding all Billy's devotion and +good nature, Sarah Ann was by no means a nice baby. In the first place, she +was very ugly—not even Billy could see any beauty in her rather old and +yellow face; in the next place, she had a temper, which the neighbors were +fond of describing as "vicious." Sarah Ann seemed already to have studied +human nature for the purpose of annoying it. She cried at the wrong +moments, she cut her teeth at the most inopportune times, she slept by day +and stayed awake at night, in a manner enough to try the patience of an +angel; she tyrannized over any one who had anything to do with her, and in +particular she tyrannized over Billy.</p> + +<p>Night after night had Billy to pace up and down the attic, with Sarah Ann +in his arms, for nothing would induce the infant to spend her waking +moments except in a state of perpetual motion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>In vain Billy tried darkness, and his mother tried scolding. Sarah Ann, +when placed in her cot, screamed so loud that all the neighbors were +aroused.</p> + +<p>When once, however, this strange and wayward little child had got into +Billy's heart, he was wonderfully patient with all her caprices, and +treasured the rare and far-between smiles she gave him, as worth going +through a great deal to obtain.</p> + +<p>On fine days Billy took Sarah Ann for a walk; and even once or twice he +went with her as far as Kensington Gardens, where they both enjoyed +themselves vastly, under the shadow of a huge elm tree.</p> + +<p>It was on the last of these occasions, just before the second winter of +Sarah Ann's existence, that that small adventure occurred which was to land +poor Billy in such hot water and such perplexity.</p> + +<p>Sarah Ann was quite nice that afternoon; she cooed and smiled, and allowed +her brother to stroke her face, and even to play tenderly with the tiny +rings of soft flaxen hair which were beginning to show round her forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + +<p>Billy's heart and head were quite absorbed with her, when a harsh, mocking +laugh and a loud "Hulloa, you youngster," caused him to raise his head, and +see, to his unutterable aversion, the well-remembered form of Tom Jones.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never; and so that's the reason you've bin a-shunnin' of me +lately; and so you've been obliged to go and turn nursemaid; +well—well—and you call yourself a manly boy."</p> + +<p>"So I be manly," retorted Billy, glaring angrily and defiantly at his +adversary. "I don't want none of your cheek, Tom Jones, and I'd a sight +rayther be taking care of a cute little baby like this than idling and +loafing about and getting into trouble all day long—like yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! we has turned nice and good," said Tom Jones, trying to affect a fine +lady's accent; "ain't it edifying—ain't it delicious—to hear us speaking +so well of ourselves? Now then, Billy, where's that punched head you +promised me a year ago now? I ain't forgot it, and I'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> like to see you at +it; you're afeard, that's wot you are; you're a coward, arter all, Billy +Andersen."</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't," said Billy, "and I'll give it yer this 'ere blessed minute, +if you like. Yere, Sarah Ann darling, you set easy with yer back up agin' +the tree, and I'll soon settle Tom Jones for him."</p> + +<p>Sarah Ann strongly objected to being removed from Billy's lap to the +ground; all her sunshiny good temper deserted her on the spot; she +screamed, she wriggled, she made such violent contortions, and altogether +behaved in such an excited and extraordinary manner, that Tom, who by no +means in his heart wished to test Billy's powers, found a ready excuse for +postponing the moment when his head must be punched, in her remarkable +behavior.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never did see such a baby," he began; "now, I likes that sort of a +baby; why, she have a sperrit. No, no, Billy, I ain't going to punch you; +now, I'd like to catch hold of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> that 'ere little one"—but here Billy +frustrated his intention.</p> + +<p>"You shan't touch my baby; you shan't lay a hand on her," he exclaimed, +snatching Sarah Ann up again in his arms, and covering her with kisses.</p> + +<p>"Well, see if I don't some day," said Tom; "you dare me, do you? Well, all +right, we'll see."</p> + +<p>As Billy walked home that afternoon, he was a little troubled by Tom's +words; he knew how vindictive Tom could be, and there was an ugly light in +his green eyes when he, Billy, had refused to give him the baby.</p> + +<p>Tom was capable of mischief, of playing such a practical joke as might +cause sad trouble and even danger to poor little Sarah Ann. Hitherto Billy +had kept all knowledge of the baby's existence from Tom Jones. What evil +chance had brought him to Kensington Gardens that day? Troubles, however, +were not to fall singly on poor Billy Andersen that day. He was greeted on +his return to his attic by eager words and excited ejaculations. It was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +some time before his poor little dazed head could take in the fact that his +mother had broken her leg, and was taken to the hospital. He must then for +the time being turn the baby's breadwinner as well as her caretaker.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>TOM JONES' TRICK.</h3> + + +<p>The neighbors were full of suggestions to Billy at this crisis of his fate.</p> + +<p>It was ascertained beyond all doubt that Mrs. Andersen would be six weeks, +if not two months, away; and this being the case, the neighbors one and all +declared roundly that there was nothing whatever for Sarah Ann but to +become a workhouse baby. One of them would carry her to the house the very +next morning, and of course she would be admitted without a moment's +difficulty, and there would be an end of her.</p> + +<p>Billy might manage to earn a precarious living by running messages, by +opening cab-doors, and by the thousand-and-one things an active boy could +undertake, and so he might eke out a livelihood till his mother came back;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +but there was no hope whatever for Sarah Ann—there was no loophole for her +but the workhouse.</p> + +<p>To these admonitions on the part of his friendly neighbors, Billy responded +in a manner peculiar to himself. First of all, he raised two blue and very +innocent eyes, and let them rest slowly and thoughtfully on each loquacious +speaker's face; then he suddenly and without the slightest warning winked +one of the said eyes in a manner that was so knowing as to be almost +wicked, and then without the slightest word or comment he dashed into his +attic and locked the door on himself and Sarah Ann.</p> + +<p>"Sarah Ann, darling," he said, placing the baby on the floor and kneeling +down a few paces from her, "will yer go to the workhouse, or will yer stay +with yer h'own Billy?"</p> + +<p>Sarah Ann's response to this was to wriggle as fast as possible up to her +affectionate nurse, and rub her little dirty face against his equally dirty +trousers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's settled, then," said Billy; "yer has chosen, Sarah Ann, and yer +ain't one as could ever abear contradictions, so we 'as got to see how we +two can live."</p> + +<p>This was a problem not so easily managed, for the neighbors took offense +with Billy not following their advice, and it was almost impossible for him +to leave Sarah Ann long at home by herself. True to this terrible infant's +character, she now refused to sleep by day, as she had hitherto done, thus +cutting off poor Billy's last loophole of earning his bread and her own +with any comfort.</p> + +<p>Billy had two reasons which made it almost impossible for him to leave the +baby in the attic; the first was his fear that Tom Jones, who still hovered +dangerously about, might find her and carry her off; the second was the +undoubted fact that if Sarah Ann was left to enjoy her own solitary +company, she would undoubtedly scream herself into fits and the neighbors +into distraction.</p> + +<p>There was nothing whatever for it but for Billy to carry the baby with him +when he went in search of their daily bread.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>Poor little brave man, he had certainly a hard time during those next two +months, and except for the undoubted fact that he and the baby were two of +the sparrows whom our Father feeds, they both must have starved; but +perhaps owing to a certain look in Billy's eyes, which were as blue as blue +could be, in the midst of his freckled face, and also, perhaps, to a +certain pathetic turn which the baby's ugliness had now assumed, the two +always managed to secure attention.</p> + +<p>With attention, came invariably a few pence—fourpence one day—sixpence +and even eightpence another. The greater portion of the food thus obtained +was given to Sarah Ann, but neither of the two quite starved. Billy counted +and counted and counted the days until his mother would be home again; and +as, fortunately for him, Mrs. Andersen had paid the rent of their attic +some weeks in advance, the children still had a shelter at night.</p> + +<p>All went tolerably well with the little pair until a certain bitter day in +the beginning of November. Billy was very hopeful on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> morning of that +day, for his mother's time of captivity in the hospital had nearly expired, +and soon now she would be back to take the burden of responsibility off his +young shoulders.</p> + +<p>Sarah Ann had hitherto escaped cold; indeed, her life in the open air +seemed to agree with her, and she slept better at nights, and was really +becoming quite a nice tempered baby.</p> + +<p>Billy used to look at her with the most old fatherly admiration, and +assured her that she was such a darling duck of a cherub that he could +almost eat her up.</p> + +<p>No, Sarah Ann had never taken cold, but Billy felt a certain amount of +uneasiness on this particular morning, which was as sleety, as gusty, as +altogether melancholy a day as ever dawned on the great London world.</p> + +<p>There was no help for it, however, the daily bread must be found; and he +and the baby must face the elements. He wrapped an old woolen comforter +several times round Sarah Ann's throat, and beneath the comforter secured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +a very thin and worn Paisley shawl of his mother's, and then buttoning up +his own ragged jacket, and shuffling along in his large and untidy boots, +he set forth. Whether it was the insufficient food he had lately partaken +of or that the baby was really growing very heavy, poor Billy almost +staggered to-day under Sarah Ann's weight. He found himself obliged to lean +for support against a pillar box, and then he discovered to his distress +that the baby began to sneeze, that her tiny face was blue, and that her +solemn black eyes had quite a weary and tearful look.</p> + +<p>"She's a-catchin' cold, the blessed, blessed babby," exclaimed poor Billy; +"oh, Sairey Ann, darlin', don't you go and take the brownchitis, and break +the heart of your h'own Billy. Oh! lady, lady, give us a 'ap'enny, or a +penny. Give us a copper, please, kind lady."</p> + +<p>The lady so aprostrophized was good-natured enough to bestow a few pence on +the starved-looking children, and after a certain miserable fashion the +morning passed away.</p> + +<p>This was, however, Billy's only money success,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> and he was just making up +his mind to go home, and to prefer starvation in his attic to running the +feeble chance of securing any more charities.</p> + +<p>Sarah Ann still continued to sneeze and her eyes still looked watery, and +Billy was sorrowfully giving up his hope of receiving any more coppers, +when he came face to face with his old adversary and tormentor, Tom Jones.</p> + +<p>In the anxiety of these latter few weeks, Billy had lost his old fear of +Tom, and he was now so spent and exhausted that he greeted him with almost +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Tom, do hold the babby just for one minute, just for me to get a wee +bit of breath. I'm all blown like, and I'm afeard as Sarah Ann 'as taken +cold; jest hold her for one minute—will yer?"</p> + +<p>Tom, who was looking rather white and shaken himself, just glanced into +Billy's face, and some gibing words, which were on the tip of his tongue, +were restrained.</p> + +<p>"Why, yer does look bad, Billy Andersen," he said, and then, without +another word, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> lifted the baby out of the little lad's trembling arms, +and held her in an awkward but not altogether untender fashion.</p> + +<p>"Look you here, Billy," he said, "ef yer likes to round quick this 'ere +corner, there are two cabs coming up to a house as I passed, and they are +sure to want a boy to help in with the boxes, and you maybe earn sixpence +or a bob; run round this yere minute—quick, Billy, quick."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, awful well," said Billy, "and the run will warm me, and +wouldn't the bob be fine—but, oh! Tom, will yer hold Sairey Ann? and will +yer promise not to run away with her? will yer promise sure and faithful, +Tom?"</p> + +<p>"What in the world should I do that for?" said Tom. "What good would yer +Sairey Ann be to me? My h'eyes—I has work enough to get my h'own victuals. +There, Billy, I'll not deprive you of the babby; you jest run round the +corner, or yer'll lose the chance. There, Billy, be quick; you'll find +Sairey Ann safe enough when yer comes back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>The poor thin and cold baby gave a little cry as Billy ran off, but the +chance was too good for him to lose; and, after all, what earthly use could +Tom have with Sairey Ann?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT IT MEANT.</h3> + + +<p>Poor Billy! After all, Tom had told him a story, for there was no cab +whatever waiting in the long and dreary street, into which he ran so +eagerly. He ran up and down its entire length, and even stopped at the very +number Tom had indicated. A little girl was coming slowly down the steps, +and Billy could not help saying to her, "Oh, missy, am I too late, and have +all the boxes been stowed away afore I come?"</p> + +<p>"There have been no boxes stowed away," said the little girl, stopping and +staring in astonishment at the ragged boy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, missy, out of the two cabs, yer knows."</p> + +<p>"There have been no cabs here for many a day," replied the child in a +sorrowful, dull kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> of tone, which seemed to say that she only wished +anything half so nice and interesting would arrive.</p> + +<p>Billy saw then that the whole thing had been a hoax, and he flew back down +the long street, with a great terror in his heart. Oh! what did Tom mean, +and was the baby safe?</p> + +<p>There was no Tom anywhere in sight when the poor little boy returned to the +more crowded thoroughfare; but a policeman was stooping down and looking +curiously at something on the pavement, and one or two people were +beginning to collect round him.</p> + +<p>Billy arrived just in time to see the policeman pick up a little shivering, +crying, half-naked baby. Yes, this baby was his own Sarah Ann, but her +woolen comforter, and mother's old Paisley shawl, and even a little brown +winsey frock had all disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Oh! give her to me, give her to me," sobbed poor Billy; "oh, Sairey Ann, +Sairey Ann, yer'll have brownchitis and hinflammation now, sure and +certain; oh, wot a wicked boy Tom Jones is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>The policeman asked a few leading questions, and then finding that the baby +was Billy's undoubted property, he was only too glad to deliver her into +his arms. The poor baby was quiet at once, and laid her little head +caressingly against Billy's cheek. Billy tore off his own ragged jacket and +wrapped it round her, and then flew home, with the energy and terror of +despair. A pitiless sleet shower overtook him, however, and the two were +wet to the skin when they arrived at their attic.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>BILLY'S ILLNESS.</h3> + + +<p>All that day Billy anxiously watched the baby; he tore off her wet clothes, +and wrapped the blanket and the sheet tightly round her, and then he coaxed +a neighbor to expend one of his pennies on milk, which he warmed and gave +with some broken bread to the little hungry creature. He forgot all about +himself in his anxiety for Sarah Ann, and as the day passed on, and she did +not sneeze any more, but sat quite warm and bright and chirrupy in his +arms, he became more and more light-hearted, and more and more thankful. In +his thankfulness he would have offered a little prayer to God, had he known +how, for his mother was just sufficiently not a heathen to say to him, now +and then, "Don't go out without saying your prayers, Billy, be sure you say +your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> prayers," and once or twice she had even tried to teach him a clause +out of Our Father. He only remembered the first two words now, and, looking +at the baby, he repeated them solemnly several times. At last it was time +to go to bed, and as Sarah Ann was quite nice and sleepy, Billy hoped they +would have a comfortable night. So they might have had, as far as the baby +was concerned, for she nestled off so peacefully, and laid her soft head on +Billy's breast.</p> + +<p>But what ailed the poor little boy himself? His head ached, his pulse +throbbed as he lay with the scanty blankets covering him; he shivered so +violently that he almost feared he should wake Sarah Ann. Yes, he, not the +baby, had taken cold. He, not the baby, was going to have brownchitis or +that hinflammation which he dreaded.</p> + +<p>The mischief had been done when he tore off his jacket and ran home, +through the pitiless sleet, in his ragged shirt-sleeves. Well, he was glad +it was not Sairey Ann, and mother would soon be home now, and find her +baby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> well, and not starved, and perhaps she would praise him a little bit, +and tell him he was a good boy. He had certainly tried to be a good boy.</p> + +<p>All through the night—while his chest ached and ached, and his breath +became more and more difficult, and the baby slumbered on, with her little +downy head against his breast—he kept wondering, in a confused sort of +way, what his mother would say to him, and if the Our Father, in the only +prayer he ever knew, was anything like the father who had been cruel, and +who had run away from him and his mother a year ago.</p> + +<p>All his thoughts, however, were very vague, and as the morning broke, and +his suffering grew worse, he was too ill to think at all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE END OF HIS TROUBLES.</h3> + + +<p>Tom Jones, having secured the baby's comforter, the thin Paisley shawl, and +the little winsey frock, ran as fast as he could to a pawnbroker's hard by.</p> + +<p>There he received a shilling on the articles, and with this shilling +jingling pleasantly in his pocket he entered an eating-house which he knew, +and prepared to enjoy some pea pudding and pork.</p> + +<p>Tom expended exactly the half of the shilling on his dinner; he ate it +greedily, for he was very hungry indeed, and then he went back into the +street, with sixpence still to the good in his trouser pocket.</p> + +<p>With sixpence in his pocket, and a comfortable dinner inside of him, Tom +felt that his present circumstances were delightfully easy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> He might walk +about the streets with quite fine gentlemanly airs for an hour or two, if +he so willed. Or he might flatten his nose against the shop windows, or he +might play halfpenny pitch and toss. His circumstances were really +affluent, and of course he ought to have been correspondingly happy. The +odd thing was that he was not very happy; he could not get Billy's white +face out of his head, and he could not altogether forget the icy cold feel +of the baby's little arms, when he slipped off that brown winsey frock.</p> + +<p>Tom was as hard a boy as ever lived, and a year ago his conscience might +not have troubled him, even for playing so wicked a prank as he had done +that day. But since then he had met with a softening influence. Tom Jones +had been very ill with a bad fever, and during that time had been taken +care of in the London fever hospital.</p> + +<p>In that hospital, the wild, rough street boy had listened to many kind and +gentle words and had witnessed many noble and self-denying actions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>Two or three children had died while Tom was in the hospital, and the +nurses had told the other children that this death only meant going home +for the little ones, and that they were now safely housed, and free from +any more sin and any more temptation.</p> + +<p>Tom had listened to the gentle words of the kind Sister nurse, without +heeding them much.</p> + +<p>But the memory of the whole scene came back to him to-day, all mingled +strangely with Billy's pale face and the baby's cold little form, until he +became quite compunctious and unhappy, and finally felt that he could not +spend that remaining sixpence, but must let it burn a hole in his pocket, +and do anything, in short, rather than provide him with food and shelter. +Tom was accustomed to spending his nights under archways and huddled up in +any sheltered corner he could discover.</p> + +<p>This particular night he was lucky enough to find a cart half-full of hay, +and here he would doubtless have had a delicious sleep, had not the baby +and Billy come into his dreams. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> baby and Billy between them managed to +give poor Tom a horrible time of it, and at last he felt that he could bear +it no longer: he must go and give Billy the sixpence which remained out of +his shilling.</p> + +<p>He started tolerably early the next morning, and carefully turning his face +away from the bakers' shops and coffee-stalls as he passed them, he found +himself presently in Aylmer's Court.</p> + +<p>He had conquered himself in the matter of the bakers' shops and the coffee +stalls, and in consequence he felt a good deal elated, his conscience +became easier, and he began to say to himself that very few boys would +restore even a stolen sixpence when they were starving. He ran up the +stairs, calling out to a neighbor to know if Billy Andersen was within.</p> + +<p>"I believe yer," she replied; "jest listen to That 'ere blessed babby, +a-screamin' of itself into fits; oh! bother her for as ill-mannered a child +as ever I came across."</p> + +<p>Tom ran up the remainder of the stairs, and entered Billy's attic without +knocking.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>There he saw a sight which made him draw in his breath with a little start +of surprise and terror; the baby was sitting up in bed and crying lustily, +and Billy was lying with his back to her, quite motionless, and apparently +deaf to her most piteous wails.</p> + +<p>Billy's usual white face was flushed a fiery red, and his breathing, loud +and labored, fell with solemn distinctness on Tom's ears.</p> + +<p>Tom knew these signs at a glance; he had seen them so often in the fever +hospital.</p> + +<p>Shutting the door softly behind him, and first of all taking the baby in +his arms and thrusting a sticky lollipop, which he happened to have in his +waistcoat pocket, into her mouth:</p> + +<p>"Be yer werry bad, Billy Andersen?" he said, stooping down over the sick +boy.</p> + +<p>"Our Father," replied Billy, raising his blue eyes and fixing them in a +pathetic manner on Tom. "'Tis our Father I wants."</p> + +<p>"Why, he were a bad'un," said Tom; "he runned away from yer, he did; I +wouldn't be fretting about him, if I was you, Billy lad."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis the other one—'tis t'other one I means," said Billy in a weak +gasping voice. "I has 'ad the words afore me all night long—our Father; +tell us what it means, Tom, do."</p> + +<p>"I know all about it," said Tom in a tone of wisdom; "I larned about it in +hospital. There, shut up, Sairey Ann, do; what a young 'un yer are for +squallin'. Our Father lives in heaven, Billy, and he'll—he'll—oh! I am +sure I forgets—look yere, wouldn't yer like some breakfast, old chap?"</p> + +<p>"Water," gasped Billy, "and some milk for the babby."</p> + +<p>Tom found himself, whether he wished it or not, installed as Billy's nurse.</p> + +<p>He had to run out and purchase a penny-worth of milk, and he had also the +forethought to provide himself with a farthing's worth of bull's eyes, one +of which he popped into Sarah Ann's mouth whenever she began to howl.</p> + +<p>Never had Tom Jones passed so strange a day. It did not occur to him that +Billy was in any danger, but neither did it come into his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> wild, untutored, +hard little heart to desert his sick comrade.</p> + +<p>By means of the lollipops, he managed to keep Sarah Ann quiet, and then he +kindled a tiny fire in the grate, and sat down by Billy, and gave him +plentiful drinks of cold water whenever he asked for them.</p> + +<p>Billy shivered and flushed alternately, and his blue eyes had a glassy +look, and his breath came harder and faster as the slow sad day wore away.</p> + +<p>Tom, however, never deserted his post, satisfying his own hunger with a +hunk of dry bread, and managing to keep Sarah Ann quiet.</p> + +<p>Toward evening, Billy seemed easier; the dreadful oppression of his +breathing was not quite so intense, and the flush on his face had given way +to pallor.</p> + +<p>Tom lit a morsel of candle and placed it in a tin sconce, and then he once +more sat down by his little comrade. For the first time then Tom noticed +that solemn and peculiar look which Billy's well-known features wore. He +puzzled his brain to recall where he had last seen such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> an expression; +then it came back to him—it was in the fever hospital, and the little ones +who had worn it had soon gone home.</p> + +<p>Was Billy going home? The baby lay asleep in Tom's arms, and he looked from +her to the sick child whose eyes were now closed, and whose breath was +faint and light.</p> + +<p>"Shall I fetch a doctor, old chap?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>Billy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Tell us wot yer knows about our Father," he said in a very low and feeble +voice.</p> + +<p>"Our Father," began Tom. "He lives in heaven, he do. He's kind and he gives +lots of good things to the young 'uns as lives with him in heaven. It +sounds real fine," continued Tom, "the way as our Father treats them young +'uns, only the worst of it is," he added with the air of a philosopher, "we +'as to die first."</p> + +<p>"To die," said Billy, "yes, and wot then?"</p> + +<p>"I 'spect," continued Tom, "as our Father fetches us up 'ome somehow, but +I'm very ignorant; I don't know nothing, but jest that there's a home and a +Father somewheres. Look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> yere, Billy, old chap, you ain't going to die, be +yer?"</p> + +<p>"I 'spect I be," said Billy; "a home somewheres, and our Father there, it +sounds werry nice."</p> + +<p>Then he closed his eyes again, and his breath came a little quicker and a +little weaker, and the solemn look grew and deepened on his white face.</p> + +<p>"Give me my babby," he said an hour later; "lay her alongside o' me; oh! my +darling, darling Sairey Ann; and I'll tell mother when she comes in."</p> + +<p>But mother never got her message, for when next Billy spoke, it was in the +safe home of our Father.</p> + +<p>Billy's baby grew up by and by, but no one ever loved her better than Billy +did.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE OLD ORGAN-MAN.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The world goes up and the world goes down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sunshine follows the rain."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6"><span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>PLAYING FOR LOVE.</h3> + + +<p>He was always called old Antonio, and though he doubtless possessed a +surname of some sort, no one seemed to know anything about it. He had white +hair, and a bronzed face, and kindly soft brown eyes, and he got his living +by pacing up and down the streets and turning a hurdy-gurdy.</p> + +<p>This instrument was a rather good one of its class—it could play six +different airs, and all the airs were Italian, and even played by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> the +hurdy-gurdy had a little of the sweet cadence and soft pathetic melody of +that land of music.</p> + +<p>Antonio lived in an attic all by himself, and the grown people wondered at +him and asked each other what his history could be, but the children loved +him and his music, and were to be seen about him wherever he went.</p> + +<p>He looked like a man with a story, but no one had ever troubled themselves +to find it out or to ask him any questions. He did, however, receive stray +pennies enough to keep him alive, and the street children loved him, and +whenever they had a chance danced merrily to his music.</p> + +<p>One cold and snowy afternoon, about a week before Christmas Day, old +Antonio sat up in his attic and looked gloomily out at the snow-laden +clouds.</p> + +<p>Nothing but the fact that there was no oil for his stove, and no pennies in +his pockets, would have induced the old Italian to brave such inclement +weather. But no fire and no food will make a man do harder things than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +Antonio was now thinking about. He must get something to eat and some fire +to warm himself by. He shouldered his hurdy-gurdy and went out.</p> + +<p>"Poor Marcia," he said to himself as he trudged along. "Well, well, we of +the south are mistaken in the generous land of England. The milk and +honey-bah, they are nowhere. The inhabitants—they freeze like their frozen +skies. Poor Marcia, no doubt she has long ceased to look for the footfall +of her Antonio."</p> + +<p>The old man, feeling very melancholy and depressed, walked down several +streets without once pausing or attempting to commence his music. At last +he stopped at the entrance of a very dull square. He had never yet received +a penny in this square, and had often said to himself that its inhabitants +had not a note of music among them. He took the square now as a short cut, +meaning to strike out toward Holborn and the neighborhood of the shops.</p> + +<p>Half-way through the square he stopped. A house which used to be all over +placards and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> notices to let presented a different appearance. It was no +longer dead and lifeless. From its windows lights gleamed, and lie could +see people flitting to and fro.</p> + +<p>He stopped for a moment to look at the house and comment on its changed +appearance, then with a slight little start, and a look of pleased +expectation, he put down his hurdy-gurdy and began softly to turn the +handle and to bring out one by one his beloved Italian melodies.</p> + +<p>The first, a well-known air from "Il Trovatore," was scarcely finished +before a little dark head was popped up from behind a window-blind, and two +soft eyes gazed eagerly across the street at the old organ-grinder.</p> + +<p>"Bless her! what a depth of color, what eyes, what hair! she comes from the +south, the pretty one."</p> + +<p>Antonio nodded his head to her as he made these remarks, and the child, +with her face pressed against the pane, gazed steadily back at him, now and +then smiling in an appreciative manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + +<p>The six airs were all played out and repeated a second time, and then +Antonio, looking up at the sky, from which the snow was still steadily +falling, began to think of moving on. In his pleasure at playing for the +child he had forgotten all about the money part of his profession. He was +indeed indulging in a happy dream, in which Marcia, and a certain little +Marcia, who had long ago gone back to God, were again by his side.</p> + +<p>He threw a cloth over his hurdy-gurdy and prepared to mount it on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>The moment he did so the child disappeared from the window. There was a +quick, eager patter of little feet in the hall, the front door was opened, +and the next moment the little dark child was standing by his side.</p> + +<p>"Here's sixpence of my very own, and you shall have it, poor man, and thank +you for your lovely, lovely music."</p> + +<p>"You liked it, dearie?" said Antonio, not touching the sixpence, but +looking down at the pretty child with reverence.</p> + +<p>"Oh! didn't I just? I used to hear those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> airs in Italy, and they remind me +of my dear mamma."</p> + +<p>"Little missy has got eyes dark and long like almonds; perhaps she comes +from our sunny south?" said Antonio eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No, I am a little English girl; but my mamma was ill, and they took her to +Italy, and Marcia nursed her. God has taken my mamma away, and now I am in +England, and I don't like it; but I shall only stay here until my father +comes home."</p> + +<p>"Missy, you make my heart beat when you talk of Italy and of Marcia—but +your Marcia, was she young?—the name is a common one, and mine, if the +good Lord has not removed her, must be very old now."</p> + +<p>"My Marcia was young and good," said the little girl. "I loved her, and I +cry for her still. I am so sorry your Marcia is old, poor man. Thank you +for the music. I must run in now, or Janet will scold. Good-by. Here's your +sixpence."</p> + +<p>"No, no, missy. I'll get some pence in the other streets. Let me feel that +I played the old airs for you only for love."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>A FRIEND IN NEED.</h3> + + +<p>Antonio did not stay out much longer in the snow. This enterprise of his +had not turned out a profitable one; no one on such a miserable day felt +inclined to listen to his Italian airs, the snow seemed to be locking up +people's hearts, and he went back to his attic hungry and cold, and quite +as penniless as when he started on his expedition. Still there was a glow +in his heart, and he was not at all sorry that he had played for the pretty +child for love.</p> + +<p>He sat down in an old broken arm-chair and wrapped a tattered cloak about +him, and indulged in what he called a reverie of Italy and old times. This +reverie, as he said afterward, quite warmed him and took away his desire +for food.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The child has brought all back to me like a golden dream," he murmured. +"Poor, poor Marcia! why do I think of her so much to-night? and there's no +money in the little box, and no hope of going back to her, and it's fifteen +years ago now."</p> + +<p>The next day Antonio went back to the quiet square off Bloomsbury, and +played all his Italian airs opposite the house where he had played them +yesterday; but though he looked longingly from one window to another, he +could not get any glimpse of the child who reminded him of Italy. As he +walked through the square on his way home he could see the people passing +to the week-night service at the church, which stood in the center. But no +trace of the little one could he catch. As far as money was concerned, he +had had a much better day than yesterday, but he went home, nevertheless, +disappointed and with quite a blank at his old heart. The next day he hoped +he would see the child, and he again went slowly through the square, but he +could not catch a glimpse of her, and after doing this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> every day in vain +he soon came to the conclusion that she had gone.</p> + +<p>"Her father has come for the pretty one, and she has gone back to the fair +south," he murmured. "Ah, well! I never saw such eyes as hers on an English +maiden before."</p> + +<p>On Christmas Day Antonio shouldered his organ, as usual, and went out.</p> + +<p>On this morning he made quite a little harvest; people were so merry and so +bright and so happy that even those who did not want his Italian airs gave +him a penny to get rid of him.</p> + +<p>Quite early in the afternoon he turned his steps homeward. On his way he +bought half a pound of sausages and a small bottle of thin and sour claret.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said to himself, "I shall have a feast worthy of my Italy," and +he trudged cheerfully back, feeling all the better for his walk through the +pleasant frosty air.</p> + +<p>Antonio never indulged in fires, but he had a small paraffin stove in his +attic, and this he now lit, and spread out his thin hands before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> the poor +little attempt at a fire. Then he drank his claret and ate his sausages and +bread, and tried to believe that he was having quite a bright little +Christmas feast.</p> + +<p>There were many voices in the room below, and cheerful sounds coming up now +and then from the court, and altogether there was a festive air about +everything, and Antonio tried to believe himself one with a merry +multitude. But, poor old man, he failed to do so. He was a lonely and very +old man—he was an exile from his native country. No one in all this great +world of London cared anything at all about him, and he was parted from his +good wife Marcia.</p> + +<p>Fifteen years ago now they had agreed to part; they both supposed that this +parting would be a matter of months, or a year at most.</p> + +<p>"The good land of England is paved with gold," said Antonio. "I will go +there and collect some of the treasure and then come back for you and +little Marcia."</p> + +<p>"And in the mean time the good God will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> give me money enough to keep on +the little fruit stall and to support our little sweet one," said Marcia, +bravely keeping back her tears.</p> + +<p>Antonio came to England, and quickly discovered that the streets paved with +gold and the abundant wealth lived only in his dreams. The little money he +had brought with him was quickly spent, and he had no means to enable him +to return to Italy. Neither he nor his wife could write, and under these +circumstances it was only too easy for the couple to lose sight of each +other.</p> + +<p>Once, a few years back, an Italian had brought him word that little Marcia +was dead, and that his wife was having a very poor time of it. When Antonio +heard this he came home in a fit of desperation, and finding a small box, +bored a hole in the lid, and into this hole he religiously dropped half of +all he earned, hoping by this means to secure a little fund to enable him +to return to Naples and to Marcia.</p> + +<p>The winter, however, set in with unusual severity, and the contents of the +little box had to be spent, and poor Antonio seemed no nearer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> to the only +longing he now had in his old heart.</p> + +<p>On this particular Christmas Day, after his vain attempt at being merry and +Christmas-like, he dropped his head into his hands and gave way to some +very gloomy thoughts.</p> + +<p>There was no hope now of his ever seeing his old wife again. How tired she +must be of standing by that fruit stall and watching in vain for him to +turn the corner of the gay and picturesque street!</p> + +<p>There she would stand day after day, with her crimson petticoat, and her +tidy bodice, and the bright yellow handkerchief twisted round her head. Her +dark eyes would look out softly and longingly for the old man who was never +coming back. Yes, since the child had gone back to God, Marcia must be a +very lonely woman.</p> + +<p>After thinking thus for some time, until all the short daylight had faded +and the lamps were lit one by one in the street below, Antonio began to +pace up and down his little attic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was feeling almost fierce in his longing and despair; the patient +submission to what he believed an inevitable fate, which at most times +characterized him, gave place to passionate utterances, the natural outcome +of his warm southern nature.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! give me back Marcia—let me see my old wife Marcia once again +before I die," he pleaded several times.</p> + +<p>After a little he thought he would change the current of his sad musings, +and go out into the street with his hurdy-gurdy. As I have said before, he +was always a favorite with the children, and they now crowded round him and +begged for that merry Italian air to which they could dance. Antonio was +feeling too unhappy to care about money, and it afforded him a passing +pleasure to gratify the children, so he set down his barrel-organ in the +dirty crowded street, and began to turn the handle.</p> + +<p>The children, waiting for their own favorite air, collected closely round +the old man; now it was coming, and they could dance, oh! so merrily, to +the strains they loved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>But—what was the matter? Antonio was looking straight before him, and +turning the handle slowly and mechanically. Suddenly his whole face lit up +with an expression of wonder, of pleasure, of astonishment. He let go the +handle of the barrel organ, and the music went out with a little crash, and +the next instant he was pushing his way through the crowd of dirty +children, and was bending over a little girl, with dark hair and dark, +sweet, troubled eyes, who was standing without either bonnet or jacket +spell-bound by the notes of the old hurdy-gurdy.</p> + +<p>"Why, my little one—my little sweet one from the south, however did you +come to a dreadful place like this?" said old Antonio.</p> + +<p>At the sound of his voice, the child seemed to be roused out of a spell of +terror; she trembled violently, she clasped her arms round his knees, and +burst into sobs and cries.</p> + +<p>"You are my organ-man—you are my own darling organ-man. Oh! I knew it must +be you, and now you will take me home to my father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But however did you come here, my dear little missy?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Mona. I am Mona Sinclair, and Janet my maid—oh! how cruel she +is; she was jealous of the dear Marcia I used to have in Italy, and she +said she would punish me, and she would do it on Christmas Day. Father has +not come home yet, and I have been so unhappy waiting for him, and Janet +said she was tired of my always crying and missing my mamma, and she took +me for a walk this afternoon, and she met some grandly dressed people, and +they wanted her to go with them, and she said she would for a little, and +she told me to stand at the street corner, and she would be back in ten +minutes, but it seemed like hours and hours," continued the child +excitedly, "and I was so cold, and so miserable, and I could not wait any +longer, and I thought I would find my own way home, and I have been looking +for it ever since, and I cannot find it. I asked one woman to tell me, but +all she did was to hurry me into a corner and take off my fur cap and my +warm jacket, and she looked so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> wicked, and I've been afraid to ask any one +since; but now you will take me home, you won't be unkind to me, my dear +organ-man."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will take you home, my darling," said Antonio, and he lifted the +little child tenderly into his arms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>GLAD TIDINGS.</h3> + + +<p>"I must not leave my barrel-organ in the street," said Antonio to the +child; "will you let me take it home first, missy? and then I can take you +back to your father."</p> + +<p>Little Mona, holding Antonio's hand, and walking by his side in the midst +of the rabble, was a totally different child from Mona, standing by herself +under the street lamp.</p> + +<p>"I shall like to see your home, organ-man," she said in her sweet voice. +"Do you really live in an attic? Marcia and her mother live in an attic in +Italy, too, and Marcia likes it."</p> + +<p>Then they walked through the streets together, and Mona went upstairs with +Antonio. She seemed quite contented in the funny little place, and sat down +on a low seat with a sigh of satisfaction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am so glad I met you, organ-man, and I like your home. I would much +rather live here with you than go back to Janet. I am dreadfully afraid of +Janet, and I sometimes think my father will never come. I wish I could live +with you, organ-man," continued little Mona in a piteous voice, "for you +could talk to me about Italy, where my dear mamma died, and oh! organ-man, +you do remind me of Marcia."</p> + +<p>"I once had two Marcias," said old Antonio in a grave and troubled voice; +"the little one is with God, and the wife whom I love, I don't know what +shelter she is finding for her gray hairs. It troubles me to hear you speak +of Marcia, missy. It brings back painful memories."</p> + +<p>The child had a thoughtful and serious face; she now fixed her eyes on old +Antonio, and did not speak.</p> + +<p>"And I must take you home," continued the old man. "I should like to keep +you with me, my little bright missy, but suppose your good father has +returned, fancy his agony."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If I could think my father had come, how glad I should be!" said little +Mona, and she went over to Antonio and took his hand. It was not a very +long way from Antonio's attic to the house in B—— Square.</p> + +<p>Antonio was too old and too feeble to carry the little girl all the way. He +would have liked to do so, for the feel of her little arms round his neck, +and her soft brown cheek pressed to his, brought the strangest peace and +comfort to his heart.</p> + +<p>Antonio had not had such a good time since he left Italy, and he could not +help feeling, in some inexplicable way, that he was going back to Marcia.</p> + +<p>At last they reached the house, and the old organ-man's ring was speedily +answered. Immediately there was a shout of delight and a great bustle, and +little Mona was almost torn from her companion and carried into a +dining-room, which was very bright with firelight and gaslight.</p> + +<p>Antonio, standing on the hall-door steps, heard some very tender and loving +words addressed in a manly voice to the little girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then he said to himself, "The dear little one's father has come and her +heart will be at rest." And he began slowly to go down the steps, and to +turn back to a world which was once more quite sunless and cold.</p> + +<p>But this was not to be, for little Mona's voice arrested him, and both she +and her father brought him into the house and into the warm dining-room. +There Mr. Sinclair shook his hand, and thanked him many times, and tried to +explain to him something of the agony he had undergone when he had listened +to the terrified Janet's confession, and had discovered that his only child +was gone.</p> + +<p>"I too have lost a child," said old Antonio. "I can sympathize with your +feelings, sir."</p> + +<p>"But you have got to tell my father all that story of the Marcia with gray +hair," said little Mona. She was a totally different child now, her +timidity and fear were gone, she danced about, and put Antonio into a snug +chair, and insisted once more on his telling his story.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, Mr. Sinclair said a few words: "I believe God's +providence sent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> you here to-night in a double sense, and I begin to see my +way to pay you back in some measure for what you have done for me. The +young girl who so devotedly nursed my wife during her long illness was +called Marcia. We wished to bring her to England, for my child loved her +much, but we could not induce her to go away from an old mother of the same +name. She often told us what hard times this mother had undergone, and how +her heart was almost broken for her husband, who had gone away to England +to seek his fortune, but had never come back. Now, can it be possible that +these two Marcias are yours, and that the man who said your child was dead +was mistaken?"</p> + +<p>"It may be so," said old Antonio, whose face had grown very white. "Oh! +sir, if ever you go back to Naples could you find out from that Marcia with +gray hairs if the husband she laments was one Antonio, an old man, who +played Italian airs?"</p> + +<p>"My child and I are going back to Naples next week," said Mr. Sinclair, +"and suppose you come with us and find out for yourself, Antonio."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>AT LAST.</h3> + + +<p>There came a warm day, full of light, and life, and color; a day over which +the blue sky of Italy smiled. Beside an artistically arranged fruit stall a +slender and handsome Italian girl stood. Behind the stall, on a low seat, +sat an old woman; she was knitting, but her restless eyes took eager count +of every passer-by.</p> + +<p>"Did you observe that old man, Marcia?" she said in her rapid Italian to +the young girl.</p> + +<p>The girl turned her beautiful and pitying eyes full on the old woman. "He +was not my father, mother. Ah! dear mother, can you not rest content that +the good God has taken my father to himself?"</p> + +<p>"Fifteen years," muttered the old Italian woman. "Fifteen years, with the +love growing stronger, and the heart emptier, and the longing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> sorer. No, I +have not given him up. Oh! my merciful Father in heaven, what—who is +that?" A little group was coming up to the fruit stall, a child who danced +merrily, an old man with a bent white head, and a gentleman on whose arm he +leaned.</p> + +<p>They came up close. The child flew to the younger Marcia, the old couple +gazed at each other with that sudden trembling which great and wonderful +heart-joy gives, they came a little nearer, and then their arms were round +each other's necks.</p> + +<p>"At last, Marcia," said old Antonio—"at last!"</p> + + +<h4>THE END.</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>A. L. BURT'S PUBLICATIONS</h3> + +<h4>For Young People</h4> + +<h4>BY POPULAR WRITERS.</h4> + +<h4>52-58 Duane Street, New York.</h4> + + +<p><b>Bonnie Prince Charlie:</b> A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. +With 12 full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The adventures of the son of a Scotch officer in French service. The boy, +brought up by a Glasgow bailie, is arrested for aiding a Jacobite agent, +escapes, is wrecked on the French coast, reaches Paris, and serves with the +French army at Dettingen. He kills his father's foe in a duel, and escaping +to the coast, shares the adventures of Prince Charlie, but finally settles +happily in Scotland.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of 'Quentin +Durward.' The lad's journey across France, and his +hairbreadth escapes, make up as good a narrative of the +kind as we have ever read. For freshness of treatment +and variety of incident Mr. Henty has surpassed +himself."—Spectator.</p></div> + + +<p><b>With Clive in India</b>; or, the Beginnings of an Empire. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +12 full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The period between the landing of Clive as a young writer in India and the +close of his career was critical and eventful in the extreme. At its +commencement the English were traders existing on sufferance of the native +princes. At its close they were masters of Bengal and of the greater part +of Southern India. The author has given a full and accurate account of the +events of that stirring time, and battles and sieges follow each other in +rapid succession, while he combines with his narrative a tale of daring and +adventure, which gives a lifelike interest to the volume.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"He has taken a period of Indian history of the most +vital importance, and he has embroidered on the +historical facts a story which of itself is deeply +interesting. Young people assuredly will be delighted +with the volume."—<i>Scotsman.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Lion of the North:</b> A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus and the Wars of +Religion. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">John Schönberg</span>. +12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>In this story Mr. Henty gives the history of the first part of the Thirty +Years' War. The issue had its importance, which has extended to the present +day, as it established religious freedom in Germany. The army of the +chivalrous king of Sweden was largely composed of Scotchmen, and among +these was the hero of the story.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The tale is a clever and instructive piece of history, +and as boys may be trusted to read it conscientiously, +they can hardly fail to be profited."—<i>Times.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Dragon and the Raven</b>; or, The Days of King Alfred. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">C. J. Staniland</span>, R.I. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle between +Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England, and presents a vivid picture of +the misery and ruin to which the country was reduced by the ravages of the +sea-wolves. The hero, a young Saxon thane, takes part in all the battles +fought by King Alfred. He is driven from his home, takes to the sea and +resists the Danes on their own element, and being pursued by them up the +Seine, is present at the long and desperate siege of Paris.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Treated in a manner most attractive to the boyish +reader."—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Young Carthaginian</b>: A Story of the Times of Hannibal. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. +With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">C. J. Staniland</span>, R.I. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>Boys reading the history of the Punic Wars have seldom a keen appreciation +of the merits of the contest. That it was at first a struggle for empire, +and afterward for existence on the part of Carthage, that Hannibal was a +great and skillful general, that he defeated the Romans at Trebia, Lake +Trasimenus, and Cannæ, and all but took Rome, represents pretty nearly the +sum total of their knowledge. To let them know more about this momentous +struggle for the empire of the world Mr. Henty has written this story, +which not only gives in graphic style a brilliant description of a most +interesting period of history, but is a tale of exciting adventure sure to +secure the interest of the reader.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Well constructed and vividly told. From first to last +nothing stays the interest of the narrative. It bears +us along as on a stream whose current varies in +direction, but never loses its force."—<i>Saturday +Review.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>In Freedom's Cause</b>: A Story of Wallace and Bruce. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>In this story the author relates the stirring tale of the Scottish War of +Independence. The extraordinary valor and personal prowess of Wallace and +Bruce rival the deeds of the mythical heroes of chivalry, and indeed at one +time Wallace was ranked with these legendary personages. The researches of +modern historians have shown, however, that he was a living, breathing +man—and a valiant champion. The hero of the tale fought under both Wallace +and Bruce, and while the strictest historical accuracy has been maintained +with respect to public events, the work is full of "hairbreadth 'scapes" +and wild adventure.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is written in the author's best style. Full of the +wildest and most remarkable achievements, it is a tale +of great interest, which a boy, once he has begun it, +will not willingly put on one side."—<b>The Schoolmaster</b>.</p></div> + + +<p><b>With Lee in Virginia:</b> A Story of the American Civil War. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. +With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The story of a young Virginian planter, who, after bravely proving his +sympathy with the slaves of brutal masters, serves with no less courage and +enthusiasm under Lee and Jackson through the most exciting events of the +struggle. He has many hairbreadth escapes, is several times wounded and +twice taken prisoner; but his courage and readiness and, in two cases, the +devotion of a black servant and of a runaway slave whom he had assisted, +bring him safely through all difficulties.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"One of the best stories for lads which Mr. Henty has +yet written. The picture is full of life and color, and +the stirring and romantic incidents are skillfully +blended with the personal interest and charm of the +story."—<i>Standard.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>By England's Aid</b>; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604) By <span class="smcap">G. A. +Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Alfred Pearse</span>, and Maps. 12mo, +cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The story of two English lads who go to Holland as pages in the service of +one of "the fighting Veres." After many adventures by sea and land, one of +the lads finds himself on board a Spanish ship at the time of the defeat of +the Armada, and escapes only to fall into the hands of the Corsairs. He is +successful in getting back to Spain under the protection of a wealthy +merchant, and regains his native country after the capture of Cadiz.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is an admirable book for youngsters. It overflows +with stirring incident and exciting adventure, and the +color of the era and of the scene are finely +reproduced. The illustrations add to its +attractiveness."—<i>Boston Gazette.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>By Right of Conquest</b>; or, With Cortez in Mexico. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. S. Stacey</span>, and Two Maps. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.50.</p> + +<p>The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under the +magnificent leadership of Cortez is always rightly ranked among the most +romantic and daring exploits in history. With this as the groundwork of his +story Mr. Henty has interwoven the adventures of an English youth, Roger +Hawkshaw, the sole survivor of the good ship Swan, which had sailed from a +Devon port to challenge the mercantile supremacy of the Spaniards in the +New World. He is beset by many perils among the natives, but is saved by +his own judgment and strength, and by the devotion of an Aztec princess. At +last by a ruse he obtains the protection of the Spaniards, and after the +fall of Mexico he succeeds in regaining his native shore, with a fortune +and a charming Aztec bride.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'By Right of Conquest' is the nearest approach to a +perfectly successful historical tale that Mr. Henty has +yet published."—<i>Academy.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>In the Reign of Terror</b>: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy. By <span class="smcap">G. A. +Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">J. Schönberg</span>. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>Harry Sandwith, a Westminster boy, becomes a resident at the chateau of a +French marquis, and after various adventures accompanies the family to +Paris at the crisis of the Revolution. Imprisonment and death reduce their +number, and the hero finds himself beset by perils with the three young +daughters of the house in his charge. After hairbreadth escapes they reach +Nantes. There the girls are condemned to death in the coffin-ships, but are +saved by the unfailing courage of their boy protector.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be +said to beat Mr. Henty's record. His adventures will +delight boys by the audacity and peril they depict.... +The story is one of Mr. Henty's best."—<i>Saturday +Review.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>With Wolfe in Canada</b>; or, The Winning of a Continent. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>In the present volume Mr. Henty gives an account of the struggle between +Britain and France for supremacy in the North American continent. On the +issue of this war depended not only the destinies of North America, but to +a large extent those of the mother countries themselves. The fall of Quebec +decided that the Anglo-Saxon race should predominate in the New World; that +Britain, and not France, should take the lead among the nations of Europe; +and that English and American commerce, the English language, and English +literature, should spread right round the globe.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is not only a lesson in history as instructively as +it is graphically told, but also a deeply interesting +and often thrilling tale of adventure and peril by +flood and field."—<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>True to the Old Flag</b>: A Tale of the American War of Independence. By <span class="smcap">G. A. +Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>In this story the author has gone to the accounts of officers who took part +in the conflict, and lads will find that in no war in which American and +British soldiers have been engaged did they behave with greater courage and +good conduct. The historical portion of the book being accompanied with +numerous thrilling adventures with the redskins on the shores of Lake +Huron, a story of exciting interest is interwoven with the general +narrative and carried through the book.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Does justice to the pluck and determination of the +British soldiers during the unfortunate struggle +against American emancipation. The son of an American +loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls among the +hostile redskins in that very Huron country which has +been endeared to us by the exploits of Hawkeye and +Chingachgook."—<i>The Times.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Lion of St. Mark</b>: A Tale of Venice in the Fourteenth Century. By <span class="smcap">G. A. +Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>A story of Venice at a period when her strength and splendor were put to +the severest tests. The hero displays a fine sense and manliness which +carry him safely through an atmosphere of intrigue, crime, and bloodshed. +He contributes largely to the victories of the Venetians at Porto d'Anzo +and Chioggia, and finally wins the hand of the daughter of one of the chief +men of Venice.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Every boy should read 'The Lion of St. Mark.' Mr. +Henty has never produced a story more delightful, more +wholesome, or more vivacious."—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>A Final Reckoning</b>: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">W. B. Wollen</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The hero, a young English lad, after rather a stormy boyhood emigrates to +Australia, and gets employment as an officer in the mounted police. A few +years of active work on the frontier, where he has many a brush with both +natives and bushrangers, gain him promotion to a captaincy, and he +eventually settles down to the peaceful life of a squatter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty has never published a more readable, a more +carefully constructed, or a better written story than +this."—<i>Spectator.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Under Drake's Flag</b>: A Tale of the Spanish Main. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>A story of the days when England and Spain struggled for the supremacy of +the sea. The heroes sail as lads with Drake in the Pacific expedition, and +in his great voyage of circumnavigation. The historical portion of the +story is absolutely to be relied upon, but this will perhaps be less +attractive than the great variety of exciting adventure through which the +young heroes pass in the course of their voyages.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A book of adventure, where the hero meets with +experience enough, one would think, to turn his hair +gray."—<i>Harper's Monthly Magazine.</i></p></div> + +<p><b>By Sheer Pluck</b>: A Tale of the Ashanti War. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With full-page +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The author has woven, in a tale of thrilling interest, all the details of +the Ashanti campaign, of which he was himself a witness. His hero, after +many exciting adventures in the interior, is detained a prisoner by the +king just before the outbreak of the war, but escapes, and accompanies the +English expedition on their march to Coomassie.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty keeps up his reputation as a writer of boys' +stories. 'By Sheer Pluck' will be eagerly +read."—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>By Pike and Dyke:</b> A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. +With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Maynard Brown</span>, and 4 Maps. 12mo, cloth, +price $1.00.</p> + +<p>In this story Mr. Henty traces the adventures and brave deeds of an English +boy in the household of the ablest man of his age—William the Silent. +Edward Martin, the son of an English sea-captain, enters the service of the +Prince as a volunteer, and is employed by him in many dangerous and +responsible missions, in the discharge of which he passes through the great +sieges of the time. He ultimately settles down as Sir Edward Martin.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Boys with a turn for historical research will be +enchanted with the book, while the rest who only care +for adventure will be students in spite of +themselves."—<i>St. James' Gazette.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>St. George for England:</b> A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>No portion of English history is more crowded with great events than that +of the reign of Edward III. Cressy and Poitiers; the destruction of the +Spanish fleet; the plague of the Black Death; the Jacquerie rising; these +are treated by the author in "St. George for England." The hero of the +story, although of good family, begins life as a London apprentice, but +after countless adventures and perils becomes by valor and good conduct the +squire, and at last the trusted friend of the Black Prince.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty has developed for himself a type of +historical novel for boys which bids fair to +supplement, on their behalf, the historical labors of +Sir Walter Scott in the land of fiction."—<i>The +Standard.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Captain's Kidd's Gold:</b> The True Story of an Adventurous Sailor Boy. By +<span class="smcap">James Franklin Fitts</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>There is something fascinating to the average youth in the very idea of +buried treasure. A vision arises before his eyes of swarthy Portuguese and +Spanish rascals, with black beards and gleaming eyes—sinister-looking +fellows who once on a time haunted the Spanish Main, sneaking out from some +hidden creek in their long, low schooner, of picaroonish rake and sheer, to +attack an unsuspecting trading craft. There were many famous sea rovers in +their day, but none more celebrated than Capt. Kidd. Perhaps the most +fascinating tale of all is Mr. Fitts' true story of an adventurous American +boy, who receives from his dying father an ancient bit of vellum, which the +latter obtained in a curious way. The document bears obscure directions +purporting to locate a certain island in the Bahama group, and a +considerable treasure buried there by two of Kidd's crew. The hero of this +book, Paul Jones Garry, is an ambitious, persevering lad, of salt-water New +England ancestry, and his efforts to reach the island and secure the money +form one of the most absorbing tales for our youth that has come from the +press.</p> + + +<p><b>Captain Bayley's Heir</b>: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California By <span class="smcap">G. A. +Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. M. Paget</span>. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>A frank, manly lad and his cousin are rivals in the heirship of a +considerable property. The former falls into a trap laid by the latter, and +while under a false accusation of theft foolishly leaves England for +America. He works his passage before the mast, joins a small band of +hunters, crosses a tract of country infested with Indians to the +Californian gold diggings, and is successful both as digger and trader.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty is careful to mingle instruction with +entertainment; and the humorous touches, especially in +the sketch of John Holl, the Westminster dustman, +Dickens himself could hardly have +excelled."—<i>Christian Leader.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>For Name and Fame</b>; or, Through Afghan Passes. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>An interesting story of the last war in Afghanistan. The hero, after being +wrecked and going through many stirring adventures among the Malays, finds +his way to Calcutta and enlists in a regiment proceeding to join the army +at the Afghan passes. He accompanies the force under General Roberts to the +Peiwar Kotal, is wounded, taken prisoner, carried to Cabul, whence he is +transferred to Candahar, and takes part in the final defeat of the army of +Ayoub Khan.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The best feature of the book—apart from the interest +of its scenes of adventure—is its honest effort to do +justice to the patriotism of the Afghan +people."—<i>Daily News.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Captured by Apes</b>: The Wonderful Adventures of a Young Animal Trainer. By +<span class="smcap">Harry Prentice</span>. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.</p> + +<p>The scene of this tale is laid on an island in the Malay Archipelago. +Philip Garland, a young animal collector and trainer, of New York, sets +sail for Eastern seas in quest of a new stock of living curiosities. The +vessel is wrecked off the coast of Borneo and young Garland, the sole +survivor of the disaster, is cast ashore on a small island, and captured by +the apes that overrun the place. The lad discovers that the ruling spirit +of the monkey tribe is a gigantic and vicious baboon, whom he identifies as +Goliah, an animal at one time in his possession and with whose instruction +he had been especially diligent. The brute recognizes him, and with a kind +of malignant satisfaction puts his former master through the same course of +training he had himself experienced with a faithfulness of detail which +shows how astonishing is monkey recollection. Very novel indeed is the way +by which the young man escapes death. Mr. Prentice has certainly worked a +new vein on juvenile fiction, and the ability with which he handles a +difficult subject stamps him as a writer of undoubted skill.</p> + + +<p><b>The Bravest of the Brave</b>; or, With Peterborough in Spain. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. +With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. M. Paget</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>There are few great leaders whose lives and actions have so completely +fallen into oblivion as those of the Earl of Peterborough. This is largely +due to the fact that they were over-shadowed by the glory and successes of +Marlborough. His career as general extended over little more than a year, +and yet, in that time, he showed a genius for warfare which has never been +surpassed.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of +his work—to enforce the doctrine of courage and truth. +Lads will read 'The Bravest of the Brave' with pleasure +and profit; of that we are quite sure."—<i>Daily +Telegraph.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Cat of Bubastes</b>: A Story of Ancient Egypt. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>A story which will give young readers an unsurpassed insight into the +customs of the Egyptian people. Amuba, a prince of the Rebu nation, is +carried with his charioteer Jethro into slavery. They become inmates of the +house of Ameres, the Egyptian high-priest, and are happy in his service +until the priest's son accidentally kills the sacred cat of Bubastes. In an +outburst of popular fury Ameres is killed, and it rests with Jethro and +Amuba to secure the escape of the high-priest's son and daughter.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The story, from the critical moment of the killing of +the sacred cat to the perilous exodus into Asia with +which it closes, is very skillfully constructed and +full of exciting adventures. It is admirably +illustrated."—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>With Washington at Monmouth</b>: A Story of Three Philadelphia Boys. By <span class="smcap">James +Otis</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Three Philadelphia boys, Seth Graydon "whose mother conducted a +boarding-house which was patronized by the British officers;" Enoch Ball, +"son of that Mrs. Ball whose dancing school was situated on Letitia +Street," and little Jacob, son of "Chris, the Baker," serve as the +principal characters. The story is laid during the winter when Lord Howe +held possession of the city, and the lads aid the cause by assisting the +American spies who make regular and frequent visits from Valley Forge. One +reads here of home life in the captive city when bread was scarce among the +people of the lower classes, and a reckless prodigality shown by the +British officers, who passed the winter in feasting and merry-making while +the members of the patriot army but a few miles away were suffering from +both cold and hunger. The story abounds with pictures of Colonial life +skillfully drawn, and the glimpses of Washington's soldiers which are given +show that the work has not been hastily done, or without considerable +study.</p> + + +<p><b>For the Temple</b>: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">S. J. Solomon</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Mr. Henty here weaves into the record of Josephus an admirable and +attractive story. The troubles in the district of Tiberias, the march of +the legions, the sieges of Jotapata, of Gamala, and of Jerusalem, form the +impressive and carefully studied historic setting to the figure of the lad +who passes from the vineyard to the service of Josephus, becomes the leader +of a guerrilla band of patriots, fights bravely for the Temple, and after a +brief term of slavery at Alexandria, returns to his Galilean home with the +favor of Titus.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Henty's graphic prose pictures of the hopeless +Jewish resistance to Roman sway add another leaf to his +record of the famous wars of the world."—<i>Graphic.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Facing Death</b>; or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A Tale of the Coal Mines. By +<span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Gordon Browne</span>. 12mo, cloth, +price $1.00.</p> + +<p>"Facing Death" is a story with a purpose. It is intended to show that a lad +who makes up his mind firmly and resolutely that he will rise in life, and +who is prepared to face toil and ridicule and hardship to carry out his +determination, is sure to succeed. The hero of the story is a typical +British boy, dogged, earnest, generous, and though "shamefaced" to a +degree, is ready to face death in the discharge of duty.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The tale is well written and well illustrated, and +there is much reality in the characters. If any father, +clergyman, or schoolmaster is on the lookout for a good +book to give as a present to a boy who is worth his +salt, this is the book we would +recommend."—<i>Standard.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Tom Temple's Career.</b> By <span class="smcap">Horatio Alger</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Tom Temple, a bright, self-reliant lad, by the death of his father becomes +a boarder at the home of Nathan Middleton, a penurious insurance agent. +Though well paid for keeping the boy, Nathan and his wife endeavor to bring +Master Tom in line with their parsimonious habits. The lad ingeniously +evades their efforts and revolutionizes the household. As Tom is heir to +$40,000, he is regarded as a person of some importance until by an +unfortunate combination of circumstances his fortune shrinks to a few +hundreds. He leaves Plympton village to seek work in New York, whence he +undertakes an important mission to California, around which center the most +exciting incidents of his young career. Some of his adventures in the far +west are so startling that the reader will scarcely close the book until +the last page shall have been reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's +most fascinating style, and is bound to please the very large class of boys +who regard this popular author as a prime favorite.</p> + + +<p><b>Maori and Settler</b>: A Story of the New Zealand War. By <span class="smcap">G. A. Henty</span>. With +full-page Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Alfred Pearse</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The Renshaws emigrate to New Zealand during the period of the war with the +natives. Wilfrid, a strong, self-reliant, courageous lad, is the mainstay +of the household. He has for his friend Mr. Atherton, a botanist and +naturalist of herculean strength and unfailing nerve and humor. In the +adventures among the Maoris, there are many breathless moments in which the +odds seem hopelessly against the party, but they succeed in establishing +themselves happily in one of the pleasant New Zealand valleys.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Brimful of adventure, of humorous and interesting +conversation, and vivid pictures of colonial +life."—<i>Schoolmaster.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Julian Mortimer</b>: A Brave Boy's Struggle for Home and Fortune. By <span class="smcap">Harry +Castlemon</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Here is a story that will warm every boy's heart. There is mystery enough +to keep any lad's imagination wound up to the highest pitch. The scene of +the story lies west of the Mississippi River, in the days when emigrants +made their perilous way across the great plains to the land of gold. One of +the startling features of the book is the attack upon the wagon train by a +large party of Indians. Our hero is a lad of uncommon nerve and pluck, a +brave young American in every sense of the word. He enlists and holds the +reader's sympathy from the outset. Surrounded by an unknown and constant +peril, and assisted by the unswerving fidelity of a stalwart trapper, a +real rough diamond, our hero achieves the most happy results. Harry +Castlemon has written many entertaining stories for boys, and it would seem +almost superfluous to say anything in his praise, for the youth of America +regard him as a favorite author.</p> + + +<p>"<b>Carrots</b>:" Just a Little Boy. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Molesworth</span>. With Illustrations by +<span class="smcap">Walter Crane</span>. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has +been our good fortune to meet with for some time. +Carrots and his sister are delightful little beings, +whom to read about is at once to become very fond +of."—<i>Examiner.</i></p> + +<p>"A genuine children's book; we've seen 'em seize it, +and read it greedily. Children are first-rate critics, +and thoroughly appreciate Walter Crane's +illustrations."—<i>Punch.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Mopsa the Fairy</b>. By <span class="smcap">Jean Ingelow</span>. With Eight page Illustrations. 12mo, +cloth, price 75 cents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mrs. Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all +living writers for children, and 'Mopsa' alone ought to +give her a kind of pre-emptive right to the love and +gratitude of our young folks. It requires genius to +conceive a purely imaginary work which must of +necessity deal with the supernatural, without running +into a mere riot of fantastic absurdity; but genius +Miss Ingelow has and the story of 'Jack' is as careless +and joyous, but as delicate, as a picture of +childhood."—<i>Eclectic.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>A Jaunt Through Java</b>: The Story of a Journey to the Sacred Mountain. By +<span class="smcap">Edward S. Ellis</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The central interest of this story is found in the thrilling adventures of +two cousins, Hermon and Eustace Hadley, on their trip across the island of +Java, from Samarang to the Sacred Mountain. In a land where the Royal +Bengal tiger runs at large; where the rhinoceros and other fierce beasts +are to be met with at unexpected moments; it is but natural that the heroes +of this book should have a lively experience. Hermon not only distinguishes +himself by killing a full-grown tiger at short range, but meets with the +most startling adventure of the journey. There is much in this narrative to +instruct as well as entertain the reader, and so deftly has Mr. Ellis used +his material that there is not a dull page in the book. The two heroes are +brave, manly young fellows, bubbling over with boyish independence. They +cope with the many difficulties that arise during the trip in a fearless +way that is bound to win the admiration of every lad who is so fortunate as +to read their adventures.</p> + + +<p><b>Wrecked on Spider Island</b>; or, How Ned Rogers Found the Treasure. By <span class="smcap">James +Otis</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>A "down-east" plucky lad who ships as cabin boy, not from love of +adventure, but because it is the only course remaining by which he can gain +a livelihood. While in his bunk, seasick, Ned Rogers hears the captain and +mate discussing their plans for the willful wreck of the brig in order to +gain the insurance. Once it is known he is in possession of the secret the +captain maroons him on Spider Island, explaining to the crew that the boy +is afflicted with leprosy. While thus involuntarily playing the part of a +Crusoe, Ned discovers a wreck submerged in the sand, and overhauling the +timbers for the purpose of gathering material with which to build a hut, +finds a considerable amount of treasure. Raising the wreck; a voyage to +Havana under sail; shipping there a crew and running for Savannah; the +attempt of the crew to seize the little craft after learning of the +treasure on board, and, as a matter of course, the successful ending of the +journey, all serve to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most +captious boy could desire.</p> + + +<p><b>Geoff and Jim</b>: A Story of School Life. By <span class="smcap">Ismay Thorn</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">A. G. +Walker</span>. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"This is a prettily told story of the life spent by two +motherless bairns at a small preparatory school. Both +Geoff and Jim are very lovable characters, only Jim is +the more so; and the scrapes he gets into and the +trials he endures will, no doubt, interest a large +circle of young readers."—<i>Church Times.</i></p> + +<p>"This is a capital children's story, the characters +well portrayed, and the book tastefully bound and well +illustrated."—<i>Schoolmaster.</i></p> + +<p>"The story can be heartily recommended as a present for +boys."—<i>Standard.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>The Castaways</b>; or, On the Florida Reefs. By <span class="smcap">James Otis</span>. 12mo, cloth, price +$1.00.</p> + +<p>This tale smacks of the salt sea. It is just the kind of story that the +majority of boys yearn for. From the moment that the Sea Queen dispenses +with the services of the tug in lower New York bay till the breeze leaves +her becalmed off the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of +the wind through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she +heels to the leeward, and feel her rise to the snow-capped waves which her +sharp bow cuts into twin streaks of foam. Off Marquesas Keys she floats in +a dead calm. Ben Clark, the hero of the story, and Jake, the cook, spy a +turtle asleep upon the glassy surface of the water. They determine to +capture him, and take a boat for that purpose, and just as they succeed in +catching him a thick fog cuts them off from the vessel, and then their +troubles begin. They take refuge on board a drifting hulk, a storm arises +and they are cast ashore upon a low sandy key. Their adventures from this +point cannot fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young people Mr. +Otis is a prime favorite. His style is captivating, and never for a moment +does he allow the interest to flag. In "The Castaways" he is at his best.</p> + + +<p><b>Tom Thatcher's Fortune.</b> By <span class="smcap">Horatio Alger, Jr.</span> 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Like all of Mr. Alger's heroes, Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, +unselfish boy. He supports his mother and sister on meager wages earned as +a shoe-pegger in John Simpson's factory. The story begins with Tom's +discharge from the factory, because Mr. Simpson felt annoyed with the lad +for interrogating him too closely about his missing father. A few days +afterward Tom learns that which induces him to start overland for +California with the view of probing the family mystery. He meets with many +adventures. Ultimately he returns to his native village, bringing +consternation to the soul of John Simpson, who only escapes the +consequences of his villainy by making full restitution to the man whose +friendship he had betrayed. The story is told in that entertaining way +which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word in so many homes.</p> + + +<p><b>Birdie</b>: A Tale of Child Life. By <span class="smcap">H. L. Childe-Pemberton</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">H. +W. Rainey</span>. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The story is quaint and simple, but there is a +freshness about it that makes one hear again the +ringing laugh and the cheery shout of children at play +which charmed his earlier years."—<i>New York Express.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Popular Fairy Tales.</b> By the <span class="smcap">Brothers Grimm</span>. Profusely Illustrated, 12mo, +cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"From first to last, almost without exception, these +stories are delightful."—<i>Athenæum.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>With Lafayette at Yorktown</b>: A Story of How Two Boys Joined the Continental +Army. By <span class="smcap">James Otis</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The two boys are from Portsmouth, N. H., and are introduced in August, +1781, when on the point of leaving home to enlist in Col. Scammell's +regiment, then stationed near New York City. Their method of traveling is +on horseback, and the author has given an interesting account of what was +expected from boys in the Colonial days. The lads, after no slight amount +of adventure, are sent as messengers—not soldiers—into the south to find +the troops under Lafayette. Once with that youthful general they are given +employment as spies, and enter the British camp, bringing away valuable +information. The pictures of camp-life are carefully drawn, and the +portrayal of Lafayette's character is thoroughly well done. The story is +wholesome in tone, as are all of Mr. Otis' works. There is no lack of +exciting incident which the youthful reader craves, but it is healthful +excitement brimming with facts which every boy should be familiar with, and +while the reader is following the adventures of Ben Jaffreys and Ned Allen +he is acquiring a fund of historical lore which will remain in his memory +long after that which he has memorized from text-books has been forgotten.</p> + + +<p><b>Lost in the Canon</b>: Sam Willett's Adventures on the Great Colorado. By +<span class="smcap">Alfred R. Calhoun</span>. 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>This story hinges on a fortune left to Sam Willett, the hero, and the fact +that it will pass to a disreputable relative if the lad dies before he +shall have reached his majority. The Vigilance Committee of Hurley's Gulch +arrest Sam's father and an associate for the crime of murder. Their lives +depend on the production of the receipt given for money paid. This is in +Sam's possession at the camp on the other side of the cañon. A messenger is +dispatched to get it. He reaches the lad in the midst of a fearful storm +which floods the cañon. His father's peril urges Sam to action. A raft is +built on which the boy and his friends essay to cross the torrent. They +fail to do so, and a desperate trip down the stream ensues. How the party +finally escape from the horrors of their situation and Sam reaches Hurley's +Gulch in the very nick of time, is described in a graphic style that stamps +Mr. Calhoun as a master of his art.</p> + + +<p><b>Jack</b>: A Topsy Turvy Story. By <span class="smcap">C. M. Crawley-Boevey</span>. With upward of Thirty +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">H. J. A. Miles</span>. 12mo, cloth, price 75 cents.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The illustrations deserve particular mention, as they +add largely to the interest of this amusing volume for +children. Jack falls asleep with his mind full of the +subject of the fishpond, and is very much surprised +presently to find himself an inhabitant of Waterworld, +where he goes through wonderful and edifying +adventures. A handsome and pleasant book."—<i>Literary +World.</i></p></div> + + +<p><b>Search for the Silver City</b>: A Tale of Adventure in Yucatan. By <span class="smcap">James Otis</span>. +12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Two American lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam yacht +Day Dream for a short summer cruise to the tropics. Homeward bound the +yacht is destroyed by fire. All hands take to the boats, but during the +night the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They come across a young +American named Cummings, who entertains them with the story of the +wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians. Cummings proposes +with the aid of a faithful Indian ally to brave the perils of the swamp and +carry off a number of the golden images from the temples. Pursued with +relentless vigor for days their situation is desperate. At last their +escape is effected in an astonishing manner. Mr. Otis has built his story +on an historical foundation. It is so full of exciting incidents that the +reader is quite carried away with the novelty and realism of the narrative.</p> + + +<p><b>Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy.</b> By <span class="smcap">Horatio Alger, Jr.</span> 12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>Thrown upon his own resources Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely determines +to make a living for himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York +he obtains a situation as cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a +service to a wealthy old gentleman named Wharton, who takes a fancy to the +lad. Frank, after losing his place as cash boy, is enticed by an enemy to a +lonesome part of New Jersey and held a prisoner. This move recoils upon the +plotter, for it leads to a clue that enables the lad to establish his real +identity. Mr. Alger's stories are not only unusually interesting, but they +convey a useful lesson of pluck and manly independence.</p> + + +<p><b>Budd Boyd's Triumph</b>; or, the Boy Firm of Fox Island. By <span class="smcap">William P. Chipman</span>. +12mo, cloth, price $1.00.</p> + +<p>The scene of this story is laid on the upper part of Narragansett Bay, and +the leading incidents have a strong salt-water flavor. Owing to the +conviction of his father for forgery and theft, Budd Boyd is compelled to +leave his home and strike out for himself. Chance brings Budd in contact +with Judd Floyd. The two boys, being ambitious and clear sighted, form a +partnership to catch and sell fish. The scheme is successfully launched, +but the unexpected appearance on the scene of Thomas Bagsley, the man whom +Budd believes guilty of the crimes attributed to his father, leads to +several disagreeable complications that nearly caused the lad's ruin. His +pluck and good sense, however, carry him through his troubles. In following +the career of the boy firm of Boyd & Floyd, the youthful reader will find a +useful lesson—that industry and perseverance are bound to lead to ultimate +success.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Princess of Tower Hill, by L. T. Meade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE PRINCESS OF TOWER HILL *** + +***** This file should be named 38771-h.htm or 38771-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/7/7/38771/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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