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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30547-8.txt b/30547-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef59855 --- /dev/null +++ b/30547-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2329 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, by +Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +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 Thirteen Little Black Pigs + and Other Stories + +Author: Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +Illustrator: W. J. Morgan + +Release Date: November 26, 2009 [EBook #30547] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + + + + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net" + + + + + + + + + + + + +THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS + +_AND OTHER STORIES_. + + +[Illustration: The THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS + +AND OTHER STORIES + +BY + +MRS MOLESWORTH + +ILLUSTRATED BY W. J. MORGAN + +LONDON + +Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge + +NEW. YORK. E & J. B. Young & Co] + +LONDON: + +ENGRAVED AND PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS, + +RACQUET-CT., FLEET-ST., E.C. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS 7 + + RIGHT HAND AND LEFT 29 + + A SHILLING OF HALFPENCE 38 + + A FRIEND IN NEED 46 + + PANSY'S PANSY 54 + + PET'S HALF-CROWN 76 + + A CATAPULT STORY 83 + + A VERY LONG LANE; OR, LOST IN THE MIST 90 + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE THIRTEEN + LITTLE + BLACK PIGS + + +CHAPTER. I + +The house stood on rising ground, and the nursery was at the top of the +house--except of course for the attics above--so there was a good view +from the two large windows. This was a great comfort to the children +during the weeks they were busy getting better from a long, very long, +illness, or illnesses. For they had been so unwise as to get measles, +and scarlet fever, and something else--I am not sure if it was +whooping-cough or chicken-pox--all mixed up together! Don't you think +they might have been content with one at a time? Their mamma thought so, +and the doctor thought so, and most of all, perhaps, nurse thought so. + +But when they began to get really better, they themselves weren't so +sure about it. Maxie said to Dolly that he really thought it was rather +clever to have finished up all the illnesses at once, and Dolly agreed +with him, adding that their cousins had been nearly as long "with _only_ +measles." But nurse, who heard what they were saying, reminded them that +instead of them "finishing up the illnesses," as Master Max said, it +might have been the illnesses finishing _them_ up. Which was true +enough, and made Max, who was the older of the two, look rather grave. + +And then the getting better was _very_ long, especially as it was early +spring, and there were lots of damp and chilly days still, and for weeks +and weeks there was no talk or thought of their going out, and it was +very difficult indeed not to get tired of the toys and games their +mother provided for them, and _even_ of her very nicest stories. +Besides, a mamma cannot go on telling stories all day, however sorry she +is for her little invalids, and however well she understands that when +people, little or big, have been ill and are still feeling weak, and +"unlike themselves," it is very, _very_ difficult not to be discontented +and quarrelsome. So but for the nursery windows I don't quite know what +the children would have done sometimes. + +The windows both looked out at the same side, which was a good thing in +some ways and a bad thing in others. Each child had a special one, and +as Dolly said to Maxie, "if yours had been at the back, you could have +told me stories of what you saw, and I could have told you stories of +what I saw." + +"It couldn't have looked out at the back," said Max, who was more of an +architect than his sister, for he was two years older, "for it's there +the nursery's joined on to the house. It could only have looked to the +side, and the side's very stupid--just shrubs and beds, nothing to see +except the gardeners sometimes, and p'r'aps there'd have been a scroodgy +bit of seeing round to the front, so I'd rather have it as it is. +Indeed, if there had been one at the side, I wouldn't have had it for my +window at all." + +[Illustration: "it was very difficult indeed not to get tired of the +toys & games"] + +"You'd have had to," said Dolly, her voice sounding rather "peepy," +"'cos I'm a girl, and I _hope_ you're a gentleman." + +"I'm the eldest," said Max, "and that always counts. Stuff about being a +gentleman; the Prince of Wales won't give up being king to let his +sister be queen, will he?" + +This was rather a poser. + +"Papa says," Dolly began, but she stopped suddenly. "Oh Maxie," she +went on, in _quite_ a different tone of voice, "what _is_ coming into +Farmer Wilder's field? It isn't turkeys this time. Oh, Maxie, what can +it be?" + +[Illustration: There's only twelve.] + +For they were both at their posts, though for the last few minutes Max +had not been giving much attention to the outside world, and I rather +fancy too, that Dolly's eyes were quicker than his. + +He turned to the window now--it _was_ a very nice look-out certainly, at +that side of the house. First there was their own lawn, which the +gardeners were now busy "machining," as the children called it, and +skirting it at the right the broad terrace walk where the dogs loved to +follow their father as he walked up and down, often reading as he went. +Then on the left there were the "houses," where there was always some +bustle of washing the glass or moving the pots, or watering or +_something_ going on. And though hidden from the view of the front of +the house, there was, farther back, a path to the poultry-yard, where +two or three times a day their mamma's pet beauties were fed, and the +noise and chatter of the pretty feathered creatures could be heard even +through the closed nursery windows. For this was not the big +poultry-yard, but their mother's own particular one. And most +interesting of all, perhaps, further off beyond the lawn, divided from +it by a "ha-ha," there was the great field let to Farmer Wilder, where +all sorts of creatures were to be seen in their turn; sometimes cattle, +sometimes sheep, sometimes only two or three quiet old horses. There had +been nothing but horses there lately--not since the turkeys had been +taken away--so it was no wonder that Dolly's eyes were caught by the +sight of a sudden arrival of new-comers. + +[Illustration: "There are thirteen"] + +There they came--rushing, scrambling, tumbling over each other--one, +two, three--no, it was impossible to count them as yet--they were just a +mass of rolling jerking black specks against the green grass, and for a +minute or two, the children stared and gazed and wondered, in complete +silence. + +What could they be? + +"Are they little bears?" Dolly was on the point of saying, only she +stopped short for fear of Maxie's laughing at her, as he had done that +time when they were staying at their grandmamma's in London, and she had +asked if it was rabbits that had nibbled the crocuses in the square +gardens. + +"Rabbits in London!" said Max, with lordly contempt. "What a baby you +are, Dolly!" + +Dolly had never forgotten it; she hated being called "a baby" in that +tone, and very likely Max would laugh even more if she asked if these +strange visitors were little bears. + +[Illustration] + +So she waited. Then said her brother in his grand, big man tone, as if +he had known it all the time, which he hadn't-- + +"They're pigs--just little black pigs of course. Can't you see their +curly tails, Dolly?" + +"Yes," said Dolly in rather a disappointed tone, "I can, now I know +they're pigs. But I thought that they were something curiouser than +pigs--though," and her voice grew more cheerful again, "I never saw +quite _black_ pigs before, did you, Maxie? What makes them black, I +wonder?" + +"You've seen black men?" said Max. "Well, it's like that--there's black +men and proper-coloured men, so there's black pigs and proper-coloured +pigs." + +"But black men are painted black. Christy minstrel men are, I know, for +nurse told me so when I was frightened of them. And _pigs_ couldn't +paint themselves black. But oh, Max," she broke off, "do look how +they're running and jumping now. They're all over the field. One, two, +three, four--there's _thirteen_ of them, Maxie." + +"No," said Max, after a moment or two's silence, "there's only twelve." + +Dolly counted again--it was not very easy, I must allow. But she stuck +to it. + +"There are _thirteen_," she repeated. + +Two could play at that game. + +"There are _twelve_, I tell you, you silly," said Max, without taking +the trouble to count them again as carefully as Dolly had done. + + + + +[Illustration: call it twelve and a half and split the difference] + +CHAPTER II + + +"There are _thirteen_," repeated Dolly again. "Look, Max, begin at the +side of the field nearest the gate--there are three close together, and +then--oh dear, two have run back to the others, and--no, I can't count +aloud, but I'm sure--" and she went on to herself, "one, two, three, +four,"--"there _are_ thirteen, I'm as sure as sure." + +"And _I'm_ as sure as sure, or surer than sure, that there are only +twelve," said Max, aggravatingly. + +"Master Max and Miss Dorothy, come to your tea," said nurse's voice from +the table. "And it's getting chilly--the evenings aren't like the middle +of the day--you mustn't stand at the windows any more. It's draughty, +and it would never do for you to be getting stiff necks or swollen +glands or anything like that on the top of all there's been." + +The two came slowly to the tea-table, but their looks were not very +amiable. + +"You're so rude," said Dolly to her brother, "contradicting like that. I +never saw anybody so _persisting_." + +"How can you help persisting when you know you're right?" said Max. "I +can't tell _stories_ to please you." + +But I must say his tone was more good-natured than Dolly's. + +"Well," said she, "can _I_ tell stories to please _you_? I _know_ there +are thirteen." + +"And I _know_ there are only twelve," retorted Max, more doggedly. + +After that they did not speak to each other all through tea-time. Nurse, +who often complained of the chatter-chatter "going through her head," +should have been pleased at the unusual quiet, but somehow she wasn't. +She had a kind heart, and she did not like to see the little couple +looking gloomy and cross. + +"Come, cheer up, my dears," she said, "what _does_ it matter? Twelve or +thirteen, though I don't know what it is you were talking about--call it +twelve-and-a-half and split the difference, won't that settle it?" + +It was rather difficult not to smile at this suggestion--the idea of +chopping one of the poor little pigs in two to settle their dispute was +too absurd. But Dolly pinched up her lips; _she_ wasn't going to give +in, and smiling would have been a sort of _beginning_ of giving in, you +see. And Max, to save _him_self from any weakness of the kind, started +whistling, which nurse promptly put a stop to, telling him that +whistling at table was not "manners" at all! + +This did not increase Master Max's good temper, especially as Dolly +looked very virtuous, and as if _her_ "manners" could never call for any +reproof. And a quarter-of-an-hour or so later, when mamma came up to pay +them a little visit, it was very plain to her that there was a screw, +and rather a big screw, loose somewhere in the nursery machinery. For +Max was sitting in one corner pretending to read, and Dolly was sitting +in another corner--the two furthest-off-from-each-other corners they +could possibly find--pretending to sew, and on both little faces the +expression was one which mammas are always very sorry indeed to see. + +But mammas learn by experience to be wise. And all wise people know that +when other people are "upset" or "put out," _or_, to say it quite +plainly, "in a bad temper," it is no use, even though it is rather +difficult not to do so, to go "bang at them," with some such questions +as these: "What _is_ the matter with you?" "What _are_ you looking so +cross about?" "Have you been quarrelling, you tiresome children?" and so +on. Especially if, as these children's mamma just now was clever enough +to find out, the angry feelings are beginning to soften down into +unhappiness, and the first little whisper of "wishing I hadn't been so +cross"--or "so unkind," is faintly making its way into the foolish, +troubled little hearts. At that moment a sharp or severe word is sadly +apt to drown the gentle fairy voice, and to open the door again to all +the noisy, ugly imps of obstinacy and pride and unkind resentment, who +were just _beginning_ to think they had best slink off. + +So this loving and wise--wise because she was loving, and loving because +she was wise!--mother said nothing, except-- + +[Illustration: "I did some knitting"] + +"I am so sorry not to have come up before, dears, but I have been very +busy. Has it been a very dull afternoon for my poor little prisoners?" + +"Not so very," said Dolly, slipping off her seat, and sidling up to her +mother, who had settled herself on the old rocking-chair by the fire, +with a nice comfortable look, as if she were not in a hurry. "Not so +very--we read some stories, and I did six rows of my knitting, and Max +cut out some more paper animals for poor little Billy Stokes--and--then +we went to our windows and began looking out," but here Dolly's voice +dropped suspiciously. + +"Well," said her mother, "that all sounds very nice. But what happened +when you were looking out at your windows?" + +"Nothing _happened_," said Max, slowly. + +"Well--what did you see? And what did you _say_? I can tell from your +faces that things haven't gone cheerfully with you all the +afternoon--now have they?" said mamma. + +"No," Dolly replied eagerly, "they haven't. Only p'r'aps we'd better say +nothing more about it. I don't want it all to begin again. If Max likes +I'll try to forget all about it, and be friends again." + +"I don't mind being friends again," said Max, "I'd rather. But I don't +see how we _can_ forget about it--they're sure to be there again +to-morrow, and then we _couldn't_ forget about them. Oh, I wonder if +they're there still, if it's not too dark to see them," he went on, +suddenly darting to the window. "Then mamma could count them, and that +would settle it." + +"This is very mysterious," said mamma, smiling, "Dolly, you must +explain." + +But Max was back from the window before Dolly could begin, and his first +words were part of the explanation. + +"They're gone in," he said in a disappointed tone, "but I don't know +that it matters much. For it would have been too dark for you to count +them properly, mamma. It was a lot of little pigs, mamma, in Farmer +Wilder's field; little black pigs--twelve of them." + +"_Thirteen_," said Dolly. + +"No, no!" began Max, but he stopped. "That's it, you see, mamma," he +said, in a melancholy tone. + +"That's _what_?" asked mamma. + +"The--the quarrel. Dolly will have it there were thirteen, and I'm sure +there were only twelve." + +[Illustration: Max cut out some paper Animals] + +"And," said Dolly, laughing a little--though I must say I think it was +mischievous of her to have snapped in with that "thirteen"--"nurse heard +about 'twelve' and 'thirteen,' but she didn't know what it was about, so +she asked us if we couldn't split the difference. Fancy splitting up a +poor little pig." + +"There isn't one to split, not a _thirteen_ one," said Max, rather +surlily. + +"Yes there is," retorted Dolly. + +Mamma looked at them both. + +"My dear children," she said. "You really _must_ be at a loss for +something to quarrel about. And after all, you remind me of----" + +"What do we remind you of, mamma?" asked both, eagerly, "something about +when you were a little girl?" + +"No, only of an old story I have heard," said mamma. + +"Oh, do tell it," said Max and Dolly. + +[Illustration: "Oh, do tell it."] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER III + + +"It is scarcely a 'story,'" said their mother, "it was only about a +tremendous quarrel there once was in ancient times between some people +as to what colour a certain shield was. One party declared it was black; +the other maintained it was white. Both were ready to swear to the fact, +and I don't know what terrible consequences might not have followed, had +it not suddenly been discovered that--what do you think? Can you guess?" + +Max and Dolly knitted their brows and pondered. But no, they could not +guess. + +"What was it, mamma?" they asked. + +"One side of the shield was black and the other white," said she, with a +quiet little smile, "so both were right and both were wrong." + +The children considered. It was very interesting. + +"But," said Max, "it _couldn't_ be like that with Dolly and me--there +couldn't be thirteen and _not_ be thirteen." + +"No, it is difficult, I own, to see how that could be," said mamma. "But +queer things do happen--there are queer answers to puzzles +now-and-then." + +"I wish it was settled about ours," said Dolly, with a sigh. "I--I don't +like quarrelling with dear Maxie," and she suddenly buried her face in +her mother's lap and began to cry--not loudly, but you could see she was +crying by the way her fat little shoulders quivered and shook. + +This was too much for Max. + +"Dolly," he said, tugging at her till she was obliged to look up, +"_don't_--I can't bear you to be unhappy because of--because of me--do +kiss me, Dolly, and don't let us ever think any more about those stupid +little black pigs." + +So they kissed each other, and it was "all right." + +"But," said Dolly, "I'm so afraid it'll begin again when we see them. +Could papa ask Farmer Wilder to put them somewhere else, mamma? We can't +leave off looking out of our windows, _can_ we?" + +"I think it would be rather a babyish way of keeping from quarrelling, +to ask to have the temptation to quarrel put away," said mamma. +"Besides--it would _have_ to be settled, you see." + +[Illustration: So they kissed each other] + +"Yes, but," said Dolly, "then one of us would have to be wrong, and I'd +rather go on fancying that _somehow_ neither of us was wrong." + +"That's rubbish," said Max, "it _couldn't_ be." + +"Listen," said mamma; "promise me that neither of you will look out of +the window to-morrow morning before you see me. Then if it is really a +fine mild day, the doctor says you may both go a little walk." + +"_Oh_, how nice!" interrupted the little prisoners. "And I will take you +myself," their mother went on. "Immediately after your dinner--about two +o'clock will be the best time. And we will see if we can't settle the +question of the thir--no, I had better not say how many--of the little +black pigs, in a satisfactory way." + +Mamma smiled at the children--her smile was very nice, but there was a +little sparkle of mischief in her eyes too. And _I_ may tell _you_, in +confidence, though she had not said so to Max and Dolly, that that +afternoon she had passed Farmer Wilder's when she was out walking with +their father, and had stood at the gate of the very field which the +children saw from the nursery window, where the little black pigs were +gambolling about. And Farmer Wilder had happened to come by himself, and +he and his landlord--the children's father, you understand--had had a +little talk about pigs in general, and these piglings in particular. And +so mamma knew more about them than Max and Dolly had any idea of. + +_How_ pleased they were when they woke the next morning to think that +they were really going out for a little walk--out into the sweet fresh +air again, after all these weary dreary weeks in the house. And it was +really a very nice day; there was more sunshine than had been seen for +some time, so that at two o'clock the children were all ready--wrapped +up and eager to start when their mother peeped into the nursery to call +them. + +[Illustration] + +At first the feeling of being out again was so delicious it almost +seemed to take away their breath, and they could not think of anything +else. But after a few minutes they quieted down a little, and walked on +with their mother, one at each side. + +"We kept our promise, mamma," said Dolly, "we didn't look out of our +windows at all this morning. Nurse let us look out of the night nursery +one for a little--it's turned the other way, so we couldn't see the +pigs." + +"But we'll _have_ to see them in a minute," said Max, "when we come out +of this path we're close to the gate of the big field, you know, mamma." + +"I know," said mamma, "but I want to turn the other way--down the little +lane, for before we go to the field to look at the pigs, I want to speak +to Farmer Wilder a moment." + +A few minutes brought them to the farm, and just as they came in sight +of it, Mr. Wilder himself appeared, coming towards them. Max and Dolly +started a little when they first saw him; something small and black was +trotting behind him--could it be one of the piglings? Their heads were +full of little black pigs, you see. No, as he came nearer, they found it +was a small black dog--a new one, which they had never seen before. + +"Good morning, Mr. Wilder," said their mother, "that's your new dog--Max +and Dolly have not made acquaintance with him yet. 'Nigger,' you call +him? He's a clever fellow, isn't he?" + +"A bit too clever," replied the farmer. "He's rather too fond of +meddling. Yesterday afternoon he got into the big field where we'd just +turned out all the little black pigs, and he was chasing and hunting +them all the time." + +"They'll not get fat at that rate," said the children's mother, smiling. +"What a lot of them there are--twelve, didn't you say, yesterday?" + +"Yes--a dozen--nice pigs they are too," said the farmer, "perhaps it +would amuse the children to see them--black pigs are rare in these +parts." + +He turned towards the field, Max, Dolly and their mother following. + +"Mamma," said Max, eagerly, "did you hear? There's only twelve." + +"But I saw _thirteen_," said Dolly. + +"Yes," said mamma. "You were right as to the number of pigs, Max, but +Dolly was right as to the number of black creatures she counted, for +Nigger was there. So you were wrong in your _counting_, Max, and Dolly +was wrong in the number of pigs, and so--" + +"Both were right and both were wrong," cried the children together, +"like the people who quarrelled about the shield!" + +"Just fancy!" said Dolly. + +"It _is_ queer!" said Max. + +And when they got to the gate and stood looking at the pigs--I think +Dolly preferred keeping the gate between her and them--they counted +again, and this time there were only twelve! For Nigger was standing +meekly at his master's heels, having been whipped for his misdemeanours +of the day before. + +"Any way, mamma," said Dolly, as they made their way home again after a +pleasant little walk, "it shows how silly it is ever to _quarrel_, +doesn't it?" + +"Yes, it does," Max agreed. + +And you may be sure mamma was _quite_ of the same opinion! + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +Right Hand And Left + + +An old friend had come to see the children's mother. They had not met +for several years, and the visitor was of course interested in seeing +all the little people. + +So mamma rang the bell for all five to come down from the nursery. Lily +and Belle, being the two eldest, came first. Lily was eleven, Belle's +ninth birthday was just passed. They were followed by their two +brothers, Basil and George, who were only seven and five, and Baby +Barbara, a young lady of two. They were a pleasant-looking little +party, and their kind-faced new friend asked many questions about them, +as each was introduced to her by name. + +The children did not care very much for her remarks as to whom each of +them was like, for she spoke of relations most of them were too young to +remember, or had scarcely ever heard of, as she was an elderly lady. + +But the two older girls at least, listened with all their ears to one or +two little things their own dear mother herself said about them. + +"Lily," she said, as she drew forward the fair-haired little girl, "is +already quite my right hand." + +Lily's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but Belle grew rather red, and +turned away. She was not the least like Lily, her hair was dark and cut +short round her head, for she had had a bad illness not long ago. + +The stranger lady had quick eyes. + +"And Belle?" she said, kindly. "You can't have two right hands of +course. But I've no doubt she is a helpful little woman too, in her +way." + +"Oh, yes!" said her mother, "she is. And she is getting on well with her +lessons again, in spite of having been so put back last year." + +"And," said the old lady--who had noticed the rather sullen look on +Belle's little brown face--"I hope the two sisters love each other +dearly, besides being a pair of extra hands to their mother." + +Lily smiled back in reply. + +"Yes," she said, "I am sure we do." + +[Illustration: They were a pleasant-looking little party] + +Soon after, their mother sent them all upstairs again. Nurse had come +down to fetch Baby, and the two boys trotted off together. Lily took +Belle's hand as they got to the foot of the stairs. + +"Isn't she a nice lady?" she said, for Lily was feeling very pleased +just then with herself and everybody else--I must say she was very +seldom a cross little girl, but she was perhaps rather too inclined to +be pleased with herself--"and didn't you like," she went on, "what mamma +said of us two, to her?" + +"No," said Belle, roughly, pulling herself away from her sister. "I +don't want to be counted a clumsy, stupid, left hand. I don't wonder +you're pleased, you always get praised." + +"Oh, Belle!" said Lily. "I really don't think you need be so cross about +it. You know you're younger than I." + +But Belle would not answer, and all the rest of the afternoon she +remained very silent and gloomy, looking, to tell the truth, as if that +strange invisible little "black dog," that we have all heard of, I +think, had seated himself comfortably upon her shoulders, with no +intention of getting off again in a hurry. + +It was a fine summer's day, almost too hot indeed, so the children had +tea early and went out a walk afterwards, returning in time to spend +half-an-hour with their mother, before she went to dress for dinner. + +This half-hour was generally a very happy time for all the children. But +to-day one little face was less bright than usual, and mamma's eyes were +not slow to notice it, though she said nothing. + +When the three little ones had gone off to bed, their mother glanced at +the two elder girls. + +"You are quite ready, I see, for coming into the drawing-room before +dinner," she said. + +[Illustration: "No", said Belle, roughly"----] + +"Yes, mamma," Lily replied, "all except washing our hands. They do get +so quickly dirty in this hot weather, if we romp about at all." + +"Then I think you might practise a little, papa likes to see one of you +in the drawing-room when he comes in, and to-night Belle shall be with +me while I'm dressing." + +"Very well, mamma dear," said Lily, running off as cheerfully as usual. +Being with their mother when she was dressing was a great treat, it +didn't happen every night, and the little girls took it in turns. This +evening I don't think Lily was at all sorry to be without her sister's +company, for the little black dog, or at least his shadow, was still on +Belle's shoulders. + +Belle sat quietly in a corner of the room, her mother said very little +to her, not even when Collins, the maid, had gone. + +"You must wash your hands, I think, before coming down to the +drawing-room," she said at last, as she poured some nice warm water into +a pretty little basin with rose-buds round the edge, which the children +admired very much. + +"Thank you, mamma," said Belle, brightening up a little, "and may I use +your beautiful pink scented soap, please?" + +"Certainly dear," said her mother, and Belle set to work to wash her +little brown hands, which, it must be confessed, were decidedly in need +of it. + +Rather to her surprise, her mother stood beside her looking on. + +"Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, mamma?" asked the +little girl. + +[Illustration: "Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, +mamma?"] + +"No, dear, I'm sure you will do that. I was wondering if it has ever +struck you how prettily and kindly your little hands behave to each +other. Right hand is the cleverest and quickest, of course, but left +hand is always willing and ready too. They take care not to hurt or +scratch each other, and if by chance one is ever hurt, the other is as +tender as possible not to rub or touch the sore place." + +Belle went on washing her hands, or rather bathing them in the water, +for by this time they were quite clean. She looked at them as she did +so, but she did not speak. + +"And another thing," said her mother, "take one out of the water, and +see how helpless the other is, even clever right hand can do very little +without her sister, and it is the same in all the work you do, one hand +would be very little use without the other." + +Belle's face grew rosy. + +"Mamma dear," she said, as her hands wiped each other dry on the nice +soft towel, "I know what you mean. You're like a fairy, mamma, you can +see into my heart. I didn't like that lady thinking Lily was your right +hand, and me no good to you. It made me feel as if I didn't love Lily." + +"But nobody said you were no good, Belle dear. You made that up in your +own silly little head. For you know even though Lily is older, you can +still help me a great deal, and even help her to help me," said her +mother. + +"Like as if you were the head, and we your two hands," answered Belle. +"Well, mamma, I won't mind now even if you count me only your left hand, +and I'll always remember what you've said." + +She kissed her mother, quite happy now, and when they were going to bed +that night she told Lily all about it. + +"I am afraid," said Lily, looking sorry, "that I was too proud of what +mamma said of me. But if each of us is always as kind to the other as +right hand is to left hand, and left hand to right hand, it will be all +right, won't it dear?" + + + + +[Illustration] + +A·SHILLING OF HALFPENCE + + +She was a lonely little old lady. She was one of those who had "seen +better days," as it is called. I am afraid there are a great many people +in the world of whom this can be said, and the saddest part of it is +that they are very, very often, _old_ people. + +It is sad to see anyone in want even of comforts, and still more of +really needful things, but I think it is worst of all to see very old or +very young folk deprived of what they should have. Middle-aged men and +women seem more fit for the battle of life than those who are already +tired by what they have come through, or those who have not yet got to +their full strength and courage. + +My little old lady was not what is commonly counted _very_ poor. She had +enough to eat--certainly her appetite was small--and enough to pay the +rent of the two neat little rooms, furnished with what she had been able +to keep of her own old furniture, which had once stood in a very +different kind of house; and enough, with _great_ care, to dress herself +nicely; and, what she considered quite as important as any of these +things, she managed to have enough to give her mite of help to those +still poorer and more closely pressed than herself. + +[Illustration: Billy] + +How I got to know her I am not at liberty to say. But I will tell you +about the first time I ever saw her and _him_, the other person of this +little story. + +It was a cold, but for a wonder in London in the winter, a bright and +dry morning. All the better, you will say--of course everybody must like +nice clean streets and pavements much more than sloppy rain and mud. But +no; not quite _everybody_. Think of the crossing-sweepers! Dirty, muddy +days are their harvest-time, especially Sundays, when in the better +parts of the town there are so many more rich and well-to-do foot +passengers than on other days. It was a real disappointment, and worse +than a disappointment--a real serious trouble to little Billy Harding, +when, after the best breakfast his poor mother could give him--and that +isn't saying very much--he hurried downstairs from the attic which was +his home, brush in hand, to find the pavements dry as a bone, and the +roads almost _clean_! + +"I made sure it were going to rain beautiful," he said to himself, +dolefully, "it looked so uncommon like it, last night." + +But the wind had veered round to the east while Billy was fast asleep, +and as everybody knows, the east wind, which "is neither good for man +nor beast," hasn't _even_ the good quality of bringing profitably dirty +streets for the poor crossing-sweepers. + +There was nothing for it but to go to his post, however, and there it +was I saw him that same cold, dry, clean Sunday morning, when I myself +was on my way to church. Very likely I should never have noticed _him_, +nor _her_ either, if I had met them separately, but it was the seeing +them standing together, talking earnestly, that caught my attention, and +the anxious, rather troubled expression on the little old lady's face, +and the bright eager look on the boy's, made me wonder what it was all +about. A dreadful idea crossed my mind for an instant--could he be a +naughty boy? had he possibly been trying to pick the old lady's pocket, +and was she talking to him in hopes of making him repentant, as is +sometimes the way with tender-hearted old ladies, instead of giving him +in charge to a policeman? (Not that there was any policeman in view!) +But another instant made me feel ashamed of the thought--a second +glance at the boy's honest face was enough. + +Now I will tell you what had happened; how I came to know it does not +matter. + +[Illustration: "Thank you, ma'am,"] + +I told you my little old lady always managed to give away something to +others. One of her habits was to put one shilling into the box in the +church porch "for the poor of the parish," the first Sunday of every +month, and if you knew how _very_ little she had to live on, you would +agree with me that this shilling, which was not her only charity, was a +_good deal_. The morning I am writing of was the first Sunday of the +month, and as she set off for church she held in her thin old fingers +inside her well-worn muff two coins--a shilling and a halfpenny, the +halfpenny being intended for the first crossing-sweeper she met on her +way. This was another of her little customs. She had some way to go to +church, and she did not always choose the same streets, so she had no +special pet crossing-sweeper, and this morning it was Billy into whose +hand she dropped the coin she was holding in her tremulous fingers. + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Billy, tugging at his ragged cap with the same +hand in which he had received the money, for he had his brush in the +other, and he was anxious to show his gratitude. It was his first +receipt that morning! + +"Poor boy," thought the old lady, "he does look cold. I wish I could +have made it a penny." + +But the kind wish had scarcely crossed her mind before she heard a voice +beside her. + +"Please ma'am," it said, "do you know what you give me just now?" + +And Billy, red with running, held out a very unmistakeable _shilling_! + +The old lady gasped, and drew out the coin she was firmly clasping in +her muff. It was a rather extra worn halfpenny! + +[Illustration: "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GIVE ME JUST NOW?"] + +"Oh, my good boy!" she began, but Billy interrupted her. He saw at once +how it was. And if he gave a little sigh, can you wonder? It _would_ +have been "jolly," if she had replied, "All right, my boy. I meant it +for you," and as he had run after her he had thought it _might_ be so. +For Billy was wise in some things, as the poor learn to be. He knew that +it is not by any means those who have most to give who give most. + +But a glance at the troubled old face told him the truth. + +"All right, ma'am," he said again. "'Twas a mistake. Mistakes will +happen," and he dropped the silver piece back into her hand. + +"Take the halfpenny at least, my boy," said she. "It was very good, very +good indeed of you to tell me of my mistake. If it was money I could +spare on myself--but--it is my rule to give this once a month at church, +and--I could not make it up again." + +"All right, ma'am," Billy repeated for the third time, anxious to be off +before the old lady could hear the choke of disappointment in his voice. + +(It was just then I passed them.) + +"But I'll tell you what I'll do," she went on, brightening up. "I'll pay +you the shilling in halfpence, every week. I'm sure I can manage that. +So you look out for me each Sunday morning, and I'll have it ready," and +off she trotted, quite happy at having thus settled the difficulty. "I +shouldn't feel _honest_" she said to herself, "if I didn't make it up to +him after really _giving_ it to him. And a halfpenny a week even I can +manage extra." + +For of course Billy's halfpenny was not to interfere with her regular +Sunday morning's dole to the first crossing-sweeper she met. + +I think she was right. I am sure that the halfpennies he received so +regularly till what she thought her debt to him was paid, helped to make +and keep Billy Harding as honest as a man as he had been as a child. + +The next winter saw no little old lady trotting along to church in the +cold. She went away for her treat of the year--a fortnight in the +country; but she fell ill the very day she came back, and never was able +to go out again. It fell to my share--she asked me to do it--to tell the +little crossing-sweeper when she died, and to give him a small present +she had left him. He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes--he didn't want +me to see he was crying. + +"'Twill seem quite strange-like never to see her no more," he said. "I +were just beginning to wonder when she'd be back. Twenty-four Sundays +and she never missed, wet or dry! I'd have liked her to know I goes too, +reg'lar, to church in the afternoons as she wanted me to." + +And for his own sake, as well as for the dear old lady's, I never lost +sight of poor Billy from that time. + + + + +[Illustration] + +A + +FRIEND IN NEED + + +Laurence was a little English boy, though he lived in Paris. He had +several older brothers and sisters, but none near him in age. So he was +often rather lonely, for he was only six years old, and too young to do +many lessons. Half-an-hour in the morning and half-an-hour in the +afternoon made up his school time, though of course his next brother and +sister, who were twelve and thirteen years old, had to do a great deal +more than that. + +I daresay they would not have minded doing a little _less_. I know they +were always very pleased to have a holiday, or even a half-holiday, and +in the evenings when their lessons were done they were very kind and +ready to play with their little brother. + +Laurence had a German nursery-maid. She was a good girl, but not very +lively or quick, and she could not speak either French or English. When +she first came to take care of Laurence he only knew a very few words of +German, so you can imagine that his walks with Emma, as she was called, +were not very amusing. But after a while Laurence got on with his +German, much faster than Emma did with either French or English, which +of course was as it should be, seeing that she had come on purpose to +teach him her language. And then he and his nurse became very good +friends in a quiet way. For he was rather an unusually quiet little boy, +and he thought a great deal more than he spoke. + +Still he _did_ sometimes wish he had a brother or sister near his own +age. It did not seem quite fair that he should be so alone in the +family. Hugh and Isabel were such nice friends for each other, and so +were the two still older sisters and the big brother of all, who was +called Robert. Now and then when little Laurence was trotting along the +street by Emma's side he would look with envy at other children, two and +three together, and wish that one of them "belonged" to him. + +But there were others alone, even more alone than he was. This he found +out before long. At the corner of the "Avenue" where he lived, there +was a large house opening into a court-yard, like all large houses in +Paris, and just inside this court-yard Laurence often saw a little girl +not much bigger than he was, always playing about by herself. She was +the daughter of the "_concierge_," or porter, who took care of the big +house, and though she was neat and tidy she was not at all a rich little +girl. For though the house was a big one, it was not lived in by rich +people, and the _concierge_ and his wife and little girl had only two +small rooms for their home. + +Laurence did not know the little girl's name, but in his own fancy he +called her "Gay." She always looked so bright and happy. And after a +while the two children began to smile at each other as if they were +friends, and sometimes Gay would call out, "Good morning, Sir. What a +nice day!" or some little speech like that, to which Laurence would +reply, "Good morning, Miss," like a little gentleman, lifting his cap as +he spoke. Of course these remarks were made in French. In English they +do sound rather odd, I must allow. + +One day Laurence and Emma set off for rather a long walk. It was the day +before Isabel's birthday, and he wanted to buy a present for her at one +of the very large shops. He was not sure what the present was to be, but +he _thought_ that he would choose a pincushion, as he had seen some very +pretty little fancy chairs and sofas not long ago at this same big shop, +which Emma told him were pincushions. He knew exactly what part of the +shop to go to, and he had his money--a whole franc--that is about +tenpence of English money, in his little purse safe in his pocket. + +They reached the shop without any adventure or misadventure, and soon +Laurence, holding the maid's hand, was walking slowly past the counters +or tables where lots of tempting pretty things were displayed. It was +some time before they found the particular table where the fairy-like +furniture was laid out. But at last Laurence gave a little cry of joy. + +[Illustration] + +"There they are, Emma," he said in German, "the dear little armchairs +and sofas and ottomans--blue and rose and white, and all with gold backs +and legs. Now which would Isabel like?" + +It was a great question, but at last they decided on a rose-coloured +arm-chair. The price he was sure was all right, as Emma had seen that +the things were all marked one franc. But alas, when the shopman gave +Laurence the little paper bill, and the boy as proud as possible went to +the desk where it was to be paid, the clerk held out his hand,-- + +[Illustration] + +"Five centimes more, if you please--one sou." + +A sou is about the same as an English halfpenny, and it is often called +a "five centime piece"--for there are ten centimes in each _two_-sous +piece, just as there are four farthings in one English penny. + +[Illustration] + +"Another sou?" said Laurence. "But I have not got one. Emma, have you +got one?" + +Emma had nothing at all in her pocket. It was stupid of her, but she had +not thought of bringing her purse. However it was so little, and she +began asking the clerk in her very bad French, mixed with German words, +to let the little gentleman have the pincushion for a franc. + +The clerk shook his head. + +"At least," said poor Laurence, "let me have it now and I will bring the +sou to-morrow, or my mamma will send it." + +Again the man shook his head. Perhaps he was in a bad temper, perhaps he +did not feel the more good-natured because he may have thought the boy +and his nurse were German. For at that time the French nation did not +love Germans. Let us hope they have learnt better since. + +"Pass on, sir," he said sharply, "you are blocking the way," and the +people standing round began to laugh. The tears rose to the little boy's +eyes. + +"Oh! what shall I do?" he cried, "and to-morrow is Isabel's birthday." + +Then came a little voice beside him. + +"Sir--may I offer it? Will you accept this sou from me?" and a small +hand held out the coin. It was little Gay. + +"Oh thank you, thank you," exclaimed Laurence joyfully, and the grim +clerk received the sou and the parcel was handed to him. + +How he thanked the kind little girl! She was there with her mother, and +while the good woman was choosing an umbrella at a stand close by, Gay, +as I must still call her, had noticed her little friend and wondered +what he was in difficulty about. And of all the people near him in the +shop, she alone had the kind thought of offering him the sou. + +I need not tell you that after this the good little girl was looked upon +by Laurence as quite a friend. He went with Emma the next morning to pay +back the five centime piece, and when New Year's Day came, a pretty +present for Gabrielle, which was her real name, was one of the gifts +which Laurence and his mother had the greatest pleasure in choosing. + +Was it not nice that the little girl was called "Gabrielle," for +Laurence was able to go on calling her "Gay," as it made such a good +short name for the real one. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PANSY. + +THE FLOWER MARKET + +PART I. + + +There was a flower-market once a week in the town of Northclough. + +It was every Thursday, the regular market-day, when the country people +came in to sell and to buy. But Northclough was not a pretty, +old-fashioned country town, such as you would very likely fancy from the +mention of markets and country folk. Once, long ago, it had been a +village, a rather lonely and out-of-the-way village, though never a +pretty one. For it was up in the north, as its name tells, in a bare and +cold part of the world, where the grass is never very brightly green, +and the skies much more often grey than blue. + +[Illustration: "The Nurse"] + +And now, as far as looks go, any way, it had changed from bad to worse. +The village had grown into a smoky town, where there were lots of high +chimneys, and constant sounds of machinery booming away, and railway +trains shrieking and whistling in and out of the stations. There was no +longer any ivy on the old church, which the oldest people could remember +almost buried in it. And the new churches which had been built since, +already looked old themselves--no stones could keep clean or fresh in +such smoky grimy air. + +But some of the old customs still lingered on, and one was the weekly +market, which was held just outside the old church walls--the walls of +the church-yard, I should say--every Thursday, just as it had been since +the village first grew into a small market town, more than a hundred +years ago. And what some people would have done without the pleasure and +amusement of this market, I should be afraid to say. I mean some +_little_ people, the children of the vicar, who lived with their parents +in a grey old house, as grey and old as the church itself, which stood +at one side of the market place. + +It was grey and grim outside, but inside the father and mother made it +as bright and cheery as they could. In winter I think they managed this +better than in summer, for good blazing fires do a great deal, +especially of an evening when the curtains are drawn and the cold north +wind, howling and blustering outside as if in a rage at not being able +to get in, only makes the house seem still cosier. And one of the good +things about the north is that coals are cheap and plentiful, so that +though the vicar was not rich, there was no need to go without +comfortable fires. + +[Illustration: "There were four of them."] + +But in summer it was sometimes _not_ easy to make the old house look +cheerful. Very little sunshine could get in, for on two sides the +neighbouring houses almost shut out the light. And the sun had hard +work, persevering though he is, to get through the murky air--murky even +in summer--that hangs like a curtain over what is called a +"manufacturing town." Then there was no garden of any kind, as the new +schools had been built on what was once the vicarage lawn, though after +all I hardly think a garden would have been much good, and perhaps the +children's nurse was right when she said: + +"Better without it, 'twould only have been a trap for more soots and +smuts, and it's hard enough to keep the pinafores clean for half-an-hour +together as it is." + +Nurse had come with their mother from the south, and she didn't take +kindly to the greyness, and the smokiness, and the grimness at all. But +she took very kindly to the babies, which was after all of more +consequence. + +There were four of them--they were "leaving off being babies" now, as +little Ruth, the youngest but one, said indignantly, when some one spoke +of her and Charlie in that disrespectful way. "Charlie's three and I'm +four, and Pansy's nearly six, and Bob's seven past." + +That was Ruth's description of the family, and I think it will do very +well, though some people might say it began at the wrong end. + +And these were the little people who would have been badly off without +the weekly market, which they looked forward to as the "next best" treat +to having tea in the dining-room on Saturday evenings with mamma. + +Their nursery windows overlooked the market place. The nurseries were +the brightest rooms in the house, and as it was a large house, whatever +its faults in other ways, there were three of them. The day nursery in +the middle and a large bedroom on one side, and on the other a small one +which was beginning to be called "Miss Pansy's room." And on Thursdays +Pansy's room was in great request, as from _its_ window one had the +best view of all of the market, especially of the corner where the +flowers were. + +[Illustration: PANSY'S WINDOW WAS IN GREAT REQUEST] + +There was always _something_ to be seen on the flower-stalls, even in +winter, when there was nothing else there were evergreens, holly and +mistletoe of course, in plenty, as Christmas came on. And though some +other parts of the market might be more amusing and exciting, where the +cocks and hens, and geese and ducks, were all to be heard gabbling, and +quacking and clucking and crowing, for instance; or the railed-in place +where there were generally a few calves or poor little frightened sheep +bleating and baa-ing, yet the little girl's first thought was always +the flower corner. First thing on Thursday morning, sometimes before it +was light, she would lie wondering what sort of dear little plants there +would be _this_ week, and hoping it would be a fine day, so that nurse +would let her poke her head out through the bars a tiny bit, so as to +see better, without calling to her that she would catch cold. + +Pansy's birthday was in May--she was going to be six. She liked having a +birthday because mamma always invited herself to tea in the nursery, and +if it happened to be one of papa's not very busiest days, he would +sometimes join them too. That _was_ delightful. + +Generally she got two or three simple presents, and always one very good +and valuable one from her godmother. But strange to say this handsome +present never pleased her half so much as the little trifling ones. Her +godmother was kind, but she was old and unused to children, and she had +not seen Pansy since she was very tiny, so her thought was more perhaps +about helping Pansy's mother than pleasing Pansy herself. And so the +present was sure to be a new frock--or stuff to make one with, or a nice +jacket, or even once--that was _rather_ a funny present for a little +girl, I think--a new set of china tea-cups and saucers and plates and +milk jugs and everything complete for a nursery tea-service. + +But "to make up" for godmother's presents being so very "useful," +Pansy's mother always gave her something pretty and pleasant, a doll, or +some doll's furniture, or picture books or some nice ornament for her +room. Any little girl of six or seven can easily fancy the kind of +presents I mean. + +This sixth birthday, however, was going to be rather different. For on +this day the godmother thought it was time to give Pansy a present of +another kind. What that was, I will tell you in the next part. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PRESENTS. + +PART II. + + +The birthday was on a Wednesday. And though it was only May the weather +for a wonder was mild and sunny. Northclough for once was looking almost +bright. + +"It _is_ nice for you to have such a fine day to be six years old on, +Miss Pansy dear," said nurse, when she came in to wake up the two little +sisters and to give her own birthday present of a neat little pincushion +for Pansy's toilet table. And the boys had something for her too, at +least it was called "the boys'," to please Charley, though in reality it +was Bob who had bought it, or the things to make "it" with. For the "it" +was a little blotting-book covered outside with thick cardboard on +which pretty pictures were pasted. It was very cleverly made, for Bob +was wonderfully neat-handed for such a little boy, and it had taken +quite a lot of contrivance to get it done without his sister's finding +out about it. And Ruth's present was a pen-wiper. + +Pansy _was_ pleased. + +"I can write to godmother now without having to ask mamma to lend me her +writing-case," she said. "I suppose," she went on, "I shall have to +write to her to-day; there's sure to be a useful present come from her," +and Pansy sighed a little, for the writing to godmother was the one part +of her birthday she did _not_ enjoy. + +Nurse could not help smiling at what she would have called Miss Pansy's +"old-fashioned" way of speaking. She always talked of godmother's +"useful presents," because she had so often been told that frocks and +jackets and so on were such nice, useful gifts. And perhaps I should +have mentioned before, that godmother did not forget the little people +at Northclough Vicarage at Christmas, something useful was sure to come +then, for she was great aunt to them all as well as godmother to one. + +But before nurse had time to speak, the door opened and the children's +mother came in. They were at breakfast in the day nursery by this time. +She had a bright smile on her face and a small parcel in her hand. + +"Good morning, darlings, to you all," she said, "and many, many happy +returns to my Pansy. Papa told me to kiss you for him too, he won't be +in till dinner-time I'm afraid. There now, a kiss for him and one for +myself," Pansy was in her mother's arms long before this, "_and_ a +present from godmother." + +Mamma sat down on the nursery rocking-chair as she spoke, and laid the +parcel on her knee, and Pansy, stooping down beside her, began to undo +the string which fastened it. + +"Is it not a useful present this time, mamma?" she asked, for certainly +it did not look like a hat or a frock, or a hamper of china. + +"I hope you will think it so," said her mother smiling, "and pretty +too." + +"A _book_," exclaimed the little girl, "and oh, yes, it _is_ a very +pretty one. And oh, mamma, it's _two_ books, in a 'loverly'"--Pansy +still said some words rather funnily--"case, all red leather, and, oh! +my own name, 'Pansy,' _how_ nice! What can they be? A prayer-book and a +hymn-book, with such beautiful big letters, and 'reds' in the +prayer-book. How I wish it was Sunday, for me to take them to church." + +She was truly delighted--her little face all rosy with pleasure. Mamma +could not resist giving her another kiss. + +"You will take the greatest care of them, I know, dear," she said. "And +now I have only a very tiny present from papa and me," and she held out +a bright new shilling. "You may buy _anything_ you like with it, dear." + +This was delightful news. What between her pride in her beautiful +"church books," as she called them, and thinking over what her shilling +would buy, the little girl had hard work to eat her breakfast that +morning, even though, in honour of the birthday, it was an extra nice +one. + +[Illustration] + +You will think I am a very long time getting to _the_ "pansy," which +gives its name to this little story, but we are coming to it now. + +There was a great consultation held in Pansy's room, and this was what +the children decided; sixpence should be spent on a pair of ducks to +float in a basin of water attracted by a magnet, a toy which they had +seen in a shop window with the price marked in plain figures. And +sixpence should be spent, for Pansy's own special pleasure, in a flower +growing in a pot, such as they had often seen on the flower-stall below +their windows. The ducks could be bought that very morning, which Pansy +was glad of, as she knew that Bob and Ruth were even more anxious to +have them than she was herself. But for the flower she would have to +wait till the next day. + +[Illustration: "The birthday passed very happily,"] + +However, the birthday passed very happily, and it was very nice to wake +in the morning with the feeling that part of its pleasures were still +to come, and mamma promised to go with her herself to the stall to +choose the flower. + +It was to be a pansy. Not a _quite_ fully blown one, her mother advised +her, for then it would be the sooner over, but one nearly so. There had +been quite a good choice of them for the last week or two; the only +difficulty would be what colour to have. + +"Yellow ones are very pretty," said the little girl as she skipped along +by her mother's side that Thursday morning on their way to the market, +for though it was just below the vicarage windows, you had to make quite +a round to get to it from the front door, "yellow ones, and those browny +ones too are very nice, but I _think_ I like the purple ones best--I +mean the violet-coloured ones--don't you mamma?" + +"I think I do," her mother agreed. "They remind one of the dear little +wild pansies, or dog violets, too." + +And by good luck, the old woman who kept the flower-stall, had some +beautiful purple pansies, none of the paler ones were half so pretty +that day, so the choice was not so difficult after all. Mamma picked out +a beauty, with two flowers on it, one almost full blown, and the other +not far behind, and a proud little girl was Pansy, as, after having paid +her sixpence she trotted home again, her precious namesake tightly +clasped in her arms. + +"I don't think I've ever had such nice birthday presents, have I, +mamma?" she said, as she lifted up her own soft little face, as sweet +and as soft as the flower, for a kiss, before hurrying upstairs to the +nursery to show her treasure. + +[Illustration] + +And it made her mother very happy to see that her little daughter had +that best of all fairy gifts, a grateful and contented heart. + +But Pansy had her troubles like other people, as you will hear. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PANSY · PART · III-- + + +The pansy was installed in state on its little owner's window-sill. For +there were deep old-fashioned window-sills in the vicarage that served +in turn both as tables and seats for the children. So Pansy warned her +brother and sister that they must be very careful now not to climb up on +to _her_ window-sill without asking her first, so that she could move +the flower-pot out of the way. + +Bob and Ruth both promised. And indeed they were very nearly quite as +much taken up with the pretty flower as Pansy herself. If she _could_ +have forgotten to water it, she would have been well reminded to do so. +I don't think there was ever a plant more watched, and cared for. It was +Pansy's first thought in the morning and last at night. Every little +speck of dust was tenderly wiped off its leaves, it was moved from one +part of the room to another to get the sunshine, of which, as I have +told you, there was seldom more than a scanty amount at Northclough, and +the window-sill, its own particular home, was kept as clean as if the +pansy was a fairy princess who got out of her flower-pot at night to +take a little exercise on her terrace. + +[Illustration: Bob had an inspiration] + +And very soon the two flowers were at their perfection; they were very +fine ones really, and I think Pansy knew every mark on their faces as +well as a mother knows the dimples in her darling's cheeks, even the +freckles on her darling's forehead. Truly the little girl had got a good +sixpenceworth of pleasure out of her purchase. + +The weather grew warmer, early in June it was really sultry for a few +days. Pansy began to be careful in a new way for her pet. It must not be +allowed to get _too_ hot, or to be broiled up by the sun, so a shady +corner was chosen for the flower-pot during the middle of the day. And +it really seemed grateful for the care bestowed upon it. Never did a +pansy prosper better, or lift itself up in fresher beauty to greet its +little gardeners. + +But one day, unfortunately, Bob had an inspiration, if you know what +that is. + +[Illustration: no Pansy, no flower-pot, nothing to be seen!] + +"Pansy," he said to his sister, "I've been thinking if you want the +flowers to last as long as they possibly can, you must really give them +a little more fresh air. It's all very well in the daytime when your +window's open, but at night I'm sure the pansy feels choky and stuffy. +You see flowers aren't like us, except hot-house ones of course, they're +used to live out-of-doors." + +Pansy looked very anxious. + +"I wonder if it's that," she said. "I noticed, though I tried to think +it was fancy, that one of the biggest flower-leaves," (she meant +"petals," but she was too little to know the right word), "not the +_leaf_-leaves you know, was a tiny atom of a bit crushed up, almost +like," and here Pansy dropped her voice, as if what she was going to say +was almost _too_ dreadful to put in words, "almost like as if it was +beginning to--to wither a little." + +Bob nodded his head. + +"That's it," he said, "I bet you anything that's it. It's want of fresh +air. Well, Pansy, I've measured the ledge outside, it's quite wide +enough to hold the flower-pot and the saucer, and though it slopes +downwards a very little, it's nothing to make it stand unsteady. Now +suppose, last thing at night, we put it outside, I'm sure it would +freshen it up, and flowers are just as used to night air as to day air." + +Pansy agreed; she examined the outer sill with Bob, it seemed all right. +So that evening when the children's bedtime came, pansy flower was told +by Pansy little girl what her kind mamma and uncle had planned for her +benefit, and with what Pansy called a kiss, a very butterfly kiss it +was, for the little girl was as afraid of hurting the pansy as if it had +been a sensitive plant, the flower-pot was placed on the ledge outside. + +First thing next morning Pansy flew to look at the flower. + +"Have you had a good night, my darling? oh, yes, I think so. You look +very fresh and well, though a _little_ wet." For a gentle shower had +fallen in the night. "Perhaps the rain will have done you good." + +Bob was quite sure it had, certainly the crumply look on the purple +petal was no _worse_, so the plan was kept to, and every night the pot +was carefully settled on the ledge. + +I think it was on the third morning that the dreadful thing happened +which I must now tell you of. + +When Pansy opened the window to draw in her dear flower and bid it good +morning, there was no pansy, no flower-pot, _nothing_ to be seen! + +With a sort of shriek Pansy flew across the day nursery to the bedroom +where nurse was dressing baby Charley, while Bob, all ready, was giving +the last touch up to his curly hair. + +[Illustration] + +"Nurse, Bob," she cried, "have you _possibly_ brought the pansy in while +I was asleep?" + +But nurse and Bob shook their heads. Then they all hurried back to +Pansy's room, and nurse, bidding the children stand back, peered out of +the window. There was a tiny strip of ground railed in between the house +and the street. Nurse drew her head in again. + +"Master Bob," she said, "run down and ask cook to let you out by the +back-door. I think I see the poor flower down there. It must have fallen +over." + +Yes, _knocked_ over by a stray cat, most likely. The children had never +thought of cats. There it lay! Bob and the cook did their best, but +there was little to do. It was a poor little clump of green +"leaf-leaves" only that remained, when the sad procession from the +nursery tapped at their mother's door, Pansy's face so disfigured by +crying that you would _scarcely_ have known her. + +Mamma was very sorry for her, very, _very_ sorry. She knew that to Pansy +it was a real big sorrow, trifling as some people might think it. But, +still, as she told the little girl, sorrows and troubles _have_ to come, +and till we learn to bear them and find the sweet in the bitter we are +not good for much. So she encouraged Pansy to be brave and unselfish and +not to make the nursery life sad and miserable on account of this +misfortune. And Pansy did her best. Only she begged her mother to take +the flower-pot away. + +"I think I would like it to be buried," she said with a sob. "It's like +when Bob's canary died." + +But two or three days after that, it may have been a week even, one +morning mamma came into the nursery looking very happy and carrying +something in her hand over which she had thrown a handkerchief. + +"Pansy dear," she said, "I waited to tell you till I was quite sure. I +did not 'bury' your pansy root, and I have been watching it. And do you +know there is another bud just about to burst, and a still tinier one, +all green as yet, but which will come on in time. In a week or two you +will have two new flowers quite as pretty, I hope, as the other ones." + +"Oh mamma," said Pansy, clasping her hands together. Her heart was too +full to say more. + +And the buds did blossom into lovely flowers, even lovelier, the +children thought, than the first ones. For there was the intense delight +of watching them growing day by day, the gardener's delight which no one +can really understand who has not felt it. + +No accident happened this time, and when the season was over, the pansy +root was planted in a corner of the little strip of flower border at the +side of the house, where it managed to get on very well, and perhaps +will have more buds and flowers for several springs to come. + +There is one thing more to tell. Pansy's godmother was so touched by the +story of the pansy, that she sent an "extra" present to the vicarage +children that summer, though it wasn't any "birthday" at all. The +present was a beautiful case of ferns, with a glass cover, so that it +could stand in the house all the year round. It was placed in the window +of the landing on to which the nursery opened, and there, I hope, it +stands still. For it would be impossible to tell the delight this +indoors forest gives to the children, who have grown so clever at +managing it, that Bob really thinks they should try for a prize at the +next "window gardening" exhibition. + +For there _are_ such cheerful things as that, one is glad to know, even +at smoky Northclough! + + + + +[Illustration] + +PET'S HALF-CROWN + + +Mammas have troubles sometimes, though you mightn't think it. They have +indeed. I remember when I was a little girl that it seemed to me big +people _couldn't_ have real troubles; that only children had them. Big +people could do as they liked, get up when they liked, not go to bed +_till_ they liked; eat what they chose, dress as they pleased, do no +lessons, and were never scolded. Things do not look quite like that to +me now, when for many many more years than I was a child I have been a +big person. However, as each of you will find out for himself or herself +all about big people in good time, I won't try to explain it to you. +Only, I do think the world might get on better if little people +believed that big ones _have_ their troubles, and--if big people +believed and remembered the same thing about little ones. + +Some children seem wise before their time. They early learn what +"sympathy" means--they begin almost before they can talk to try to bear +some part of other people's burdens. + +A little girl I once knew, who was called "Pet," (though of course she +had a proper name as well,) was one of these. She was a gentle little +thing, with large soft rather anxious-looking blue eyes; eyes that +filled with tears rather _too_ easily, perhaps, both for her own +troubles and other people's. + +But she got more sensible as she grew older, and by the time she was ten +or so she had found out that there are often much better ways of showing +you are sorry for others than by crying about them, and that as for +crying about _ourselves_, it is always a bad plan, though I know it +can't quite be helped now and then. + +Pet was the eldest, and a very useful "understanding" little eldest she +was. _She_ knew that her mother had troubles sometimes, and she did her +best to smooth them away whenever she possibly could. + +One of the things she was often able to do to help her mother was by +keeping her little brothers and sisters happy and amused when they came +down to the drawing-room in the evening, and now and then, if it were a +rainy day, earlier. For mamma felt sorry for the children if they were +shut up in the nursery for long, and as all little people know, a +change to the drawing-room is very pleasant for them, though sometimes +rather tiring for mammas. + +[Illustration] + +It happened one afternoon, a very wet and cold afternoon in January, +when there was no possibility of going out, that _all_ the children were +downstairs together. There were four of them besides Pet, and it was not +very easy to amuse them all. But Pet was determined to do her very +best--for she knew that mamma was _particularly_ busy that day, as she +had all her accounts to do. And indeed poor mamma would have been very +glad to have a quiet afternoon, but nurse had a headache, and baby, who +had had a bad night, was sleeping peacefully for the first time, and +must not be disturbed. There was nothing for it but to bring the little +troop downstairs. + +"We will be very good and quiet, mamma dear," said Pet. "You can go on +doing your accounts, for I know you can't do them this evening, as aunty +is coming. Charley and I,"--Charley was the next in age to Pet--"will +show all our best picture-books to the little ones." + +Charley was very proud to hear himself counted a big one with Pet, and +he did all he could to help her. They really managed to keep the others +quiet, and Pet was hoping that mamma was getting on nicely with her long +rows of figures, and that soon she would be calling out gladly, "All +right. I can come and play with you now," when to her distress she heard +her mother give a deep sigh. + +"Oh, dear mamma, what's the matter?" she said, "are we disturbing you?" + +"No, darling, you are as quiet as mice," her mother replied. "But I +don't know how it is--I have counted it all up again and again, and I am +_sure_ I have put down everything I have spent, but I am half-a-crown +wrong. Dear, dear--what a pity it is! Just as I thought I had finished." + +And again mamma sighed. She did not like to think she had perhaps lost +half-a-crown, for she and Pet's father had not any half-crowns to spare. + +"I will just go and see if possibly it is in my little leather bag that +I always take out with me," she said. And she rose as she spoke and left +the room. + +Pet felt sure it was not in the little bag, for she had been standing by +when her mother emptied it. + +"Poor mamma," she said softly. "I can't bear her to be troubled." + +Then the colour rose into her face and her eyes sparkled. + +"Charley," she whispered, "keep the little ones quiet for one minute," +and off she flew. + +She was back in _less_ than a minute, though she had found time to run +up to her room and take something out of a drawer where she kept her +treasures. Then she ran across to her mother's writing-table and slipped +this something under the account-books, lying open upon it. + +And almost immediately mamma came back. + +"No," she said sadly, "it was not in my bag. I fear I have lost it +somehow, for I am sure my accounts are right. I must just put it down as +lost." + +But in another moment came a joyful cry. + +"Pet," she exclaimed, "_would_ you believe I could be so stupid? Here it +is--the missing half-crown--slipped under my account book! I _am_ so +pleased to have found it. Now, children dear, mammy can come and play +with you with a light heart." + +"I am so glad you are happy again, mamma darling," said Pet; and if her +mother noticed that her little girl's cheeks were rosier than usual, and +her eyes brighter, no doubt she only thought it was with the pleasure +of all playing together. For I don't think they had ever had a merrier +visit to the drawing-room. + +[Illustration] + +You have guessed the secret before this, I am sure? That little Pet had +fetched her own half-crown to play a loving trick with it. It was her +only half-crown, her only money, except one sixpenny-bit and two +pennies! But she gave it gladly, just saying to herself that it was a +very good thing Christmas-time was over and no birthdays very near at +hand. + +And she kept her secret well. So well, that though a great many years +have passed since then, it was only a _very little while ago_ that her +mother heard, for the first time, the story of her child's loving +self-denial. The smile on mamma's face, and the knowledge that she had +brought it there were Pet's only reward. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +A CATAPULT STORY. + + +"Oh, well, you can have a catapult if you like," said Hector, with +lordly disdain. "It doesn't matter to _me_, and it certainly won't +matter to any one or anything else. You'll never hit anything--girls +never do. They can't throw a stone properly." + +"You're very unkind, and--and--very horrid," said Dolly, nearly crying. +"It's very mean and un--it's not at all like knights long ago, always to +be saying mocking things of girls." + +"Rubbish," said Hector. "Besides, if you come to that, girls or ladies +long ago didn't want to do things like--like men," the last word with a +little hesitation, for he knew Dolly was sharp enough to be down on him +if he talked big. "They stayed at home and did sensible things, for +women; cooking and tapestrying, and nursing wounded soldiers." + +[Illustration] + +"They had to go out to the battle-fields sometimes to get the wounded +soldiers--_there_!" said Dolly triumphantly. "And what's more, some of +them _did_ know how to fight, and did fight. Think of Jeanne d'Arc, +and--and--somebody, I forget her name, who defended her husband's +castle." + +[Illustration] + +"All right," said Hector. "I'm not quarrelling with your having a +catapult, and you can defend your husband's castle with it if you +like--that's to say if you ever get a husband. _I_ should think a girl +who knew how to sew nicely, and to keep her house very neat and +comfortable, a much nicer wife than one who went about catapulting and +trying to be like a man. And you know you're not really so grand and +brave as you try to make out, Dolly. You screamed like anything the +other day when I threw a piece of wood that looked like a snake at you." + +"It was very mean and cowardly of you to try to frighten me," said +Dolly. "And I know somebody that needn't boast either. Who was it that +ran away the other day when Farmer Bright's cow got into our field? +Somebody thought it was a bull, and was over the hedge in no time, +leaving his sister to be gored or tossed by the terrible bull." + +Hector grew red. He was not fond of this story, which had a good deal of +truth in it. It seemed as if a quarrel was not very far off, but Hector +thought better of it. + +"I was very sorry afterwards that I ran away," he said. "You know I told +you so, Dolly, and I really thought you were close beside me till I +heard you call out. I don't think you need cast up about it any more, I +really don't." + +Dolly felt penitent at once, for she was a kind little girl, and +Hector's gentleness touched her. + +"Well, I won't, then," she answered, "if you'll teach me how to +catapult." + +Hector did his best, both that day and several others. But I must say I +have my doubts as to whether catapults are meant for little girls. Dolly +tried over and over and over again, but she never could manage to hit +anything she aimed at. And at last her patience seemed exhausted. + +"I'm tired of it," she said. "I'll give it to Bobby. I shan't try to +catapult any more." + +And it would have been rather a good thing if she had kept to this +resolution. + +[Illustration] + +But the next day when she was out in the garden with her brothers, +admiring Hector's good aim and the wonderful way in which he hit a +little bell which he had hung high up on the branch of a tree as a sort +of target, it came over her that she would try once again. + +"Look at that bird, up on the top of the kitchen-garden wall," she said. +"I'll have a go at it." + +Hector laughed. + +"I think the bird's quite safe," he said. + +Dolly thought so too. She did not want to hurt the bird, she was really +speaking in fun. But all the same she aimed at it, and--oh, sad and +strange to say--_she hit it_! a quiver of the little wings, and the +tiny head dropped, and then--in a moment it had fallen to the foot of +the high wall on which it had perched so happily a moment before! + +The children rushed forward breathlessly. Dolly could not believe that +she had hurt it, scarcely that she had hit it. + +But alas! yes. It was quite dead. + +Hector held it in his hand. The bright eyes were already glazed--the +feathers limp and dull. + +And oh, worse and worse, it was a wren. A little innocent, harmless +wren. + +Dolly's sobs were bitter. + +"I'll never touch a catapult again," she said. "A nasty horrid cruel +thing it is. And I didn't really mean to hit the poor wren." + +"It was only a fluke, then," said Hector, who, in spite of his sorrow +for the wren, had felt some admiration for his sister's skill. + +"N--no, not that," she said. "I _did_ aim, but I never thought I'd hit +it. Still, Hector, it shows you I _can_ hit, you see;" and the thought +made her leave off crying for a moment or two. But the sight of the poor +little wren changed her triumph into sorrow again. + +"I've done with shooting," she said, as she threw the unlucky catapult +away. + +And then she covered up the dead wren in her handkerchief and went in to +tell her troubles to "mamma." + +Her mother was very sorry too. + +"You must think of it as a sort of accident," she said. "But let it be +a lesson to you, dear Dolly, never to do anything half in joke, or for +fun as it were, which could cause trouble to any one if it turned into +earnest." + +There was some comfort in the thought that it was late autumn, and not +spring-time, so there was no fear of poor little Jenny Wren's death +leaving a nestful of tiny orphan fledglings. And Hector helped Dolly to +bury the bird in a quiet corner of the garden. + +But all the same, Dolly has never liked catapults since that unlucky +day! + + + + +[Illustration] + +A VERY LONG LANE OR LOST IN THE MIST + + +Have you ever been lost? Really lost. I mean to say have you ever had +the _feeling_ of being lost? It is rather a dreadful feeling. I had it +once and I have never forgotten it. I will tell you about it. + +I was about fifteen at the time. We were living for some months in a +large country house belonging to relations of ours, in the west of +England. In that part of the world many of the roads are really only +narrow lanes, where two carriages cannot pass--it is very awkward indeed +sometimes, if you meet a cart or any vehicle at a narrow part. One or +other has to back ever so far, till you come to a gateway or to a little +outjut in the lane making it wider just there. And these lanes are sunk +down below the level of the fields at their sides, and there are high +hedges too, so that really you may drive for miles and miles and +scarcely know where you are. It is difficult to know your way even in +broad daylight--even the people who live there always, have often to +consult the finger-posts, of which, I must allow, there are plenty! And +for strangers or new-comers it is _very_ puzzling. + +We got on pretty well however. My elder sisters drove about a great deal +in a jolly little two-wheeled pony cart, and as I was small and light, I +was often favoured with an invitation to accompany them, sitting in the +back seat, which was _not_ luxurious. + +"It does very well for Thecla," my sisters used to say, "she is so thin. +And she's as handy as a boy about jumping out to open the gates." + +I didn't mind--I was only too pleased to go, in any way, and rather +proud to be called handy. + +So I got to know the country pretty well, and I would not have been +afraid, by daylight at least, to go a good distance alone. + +One day some friends who lived about three miles off, came to luncheon +with us. There were two or three grown-up ladies, and a girl just about +my age, named Molly. She was my principal friend while we were living +there, as she was very nice and we suited each other very well. The +older people, both of her family and of mine, drove away in the +afternoon to a large garden party some way off, to which we were +thought too young to go, or very likely there was not room for us in the +carriages. But we were very happy to stay behind. We were to have tea +together, and then it was arranged that I was to take Molly half-way +home. + +[Illustration: Off we set, in very good spirits,] + +"Be sure you are not later in starting than half-past five," said my +mother, "so that you can be back before it begins to get dark," for it +was already September. + +And Molly's mother repeated the warning, only adding, "I am not the +least anxious about Molly--she knows the way so well. But it might be +puzzling for Thecla, as our lanes are really a labyrinth after dark." + +"Oh I am _sure_ I couldn't get lost between here and Three Corners," I +said, laughing. "Three Corner Court" was the quaint name of Molly's +home. + +Well--we found the afternoon only too short--we enjoyed our nice tea +very much, and felt rather reluctant to set off as soon as it was over. + +"It is barely half-past five," I said. But Molly was very determined. + +"We must start," she said. "I feel responsible for you, Thecla, for you +will have to come back alone." + +"As if I _could_ lose my way, when I have only to come straight back the +way you take me," I said, "and I have been a bit of that way before." + +We were not going by the road but by a short cut, part of which was a +foot-path through the fields, and _generally_, I had driven to Three +Corners, so that there was some reason for Molly's carefulness. + +"Don't be too sure," she said, "you don't know how like some of the +fields are to each other, as well as the lanes. We have regular +landmarks we depend upon." + +Off we set, in very good spirits, laughing and talking. We laughed and +talked a little too much perhaps, for though the very first part of the +way was through our own grounds, where I could not of course have gone +astray, we soon came to a succession of fields--several of them ploughed +land--which certainly were very like each other. We crossed two or three +lanes, going a few steps in one direction or the other to get to the +gates, and keeping always in the same line ourselves. Suddenly Molly +stopped in the middle of a very interesting discussion of a book we had +been reading. + +"Thecla," she said, "you've come more than half way--you must turn back +now, for it will be getting dusk. And oh dear, I didn't point out the +old hawthorn at the gate of the great Millside field--and it _is_ so +easy to mistake it for Southdown field, and then you'd get all wrong." + +[Illustration: It was a ploughed field, and it really was "up"] + +"I'm sure I remember it," I said, "and I don't see how I _could_ go +wrong if I keep in the same direction." + +"Ah, but it's so easy to get out of the same direction without knowing +it," she said, "once the sun's gone. Now _do_ be careful," and she +repeated a few more warnings. + +I kissed her and ran off gaily. For a while all went well. I had crossed +two lanes and three grass fields when I found myself for the first time +at a loss. Was I to go straight through the gate facing the one I had +come out by, or go a little way down the lane? Was this the place to +look out for the hawthorn bush? If so, there was no hawthorn bush here, +so I decided to go down the lane a little. It seemed a good way before I +came to a gate, and when I did, there was no bush or tree of any kind. +But I felt sure that up this field was in the right line, so on I went. +It was a ploughed field and it really was "up," for it sloped rather +steeply. Oh how tired I was when I got to the top! But now I thought all +my troubles were over--I had only to go a quarter of a mile along the +lane, to reach our own back entrance to the stables. + +[Illustration: I was not half-a-mile from the Hall!] + +"What a good thing I am so near home," I thought, as I became aware that +almost in a moment a thick grey mist had risen--all around was bathed in +it, and I ran on as fast as I could. + +The mist now and then cleared a little, but the night was falling fast +and I saw no sign of the white gates I was looking for. I ran the +faster--but the hedges remained unbroken, and after a while I was forced +to own to myself that somehow or other I had _got into the wrong lane_! +Oh dear! I dared not turn back--I just ran on, and the mist grew thicker +again. I soon got so tired, that the temptation was strong to sit down +at all costs. And if I had done so I might have fainted or fallen +asleep, and not perhaps been found till too late! + +It was a dreadful feeling--after a while I think I began to get rather +dazed and stupefied, from fatigue and anxiety. I had only just a sort of +instinct that at all costs I _must_ keep going. + +"The lane must lead to somewhere," I said to myself, though really it +seemed as if it was endless. I must have been running, or half running +and sometimes walking for nearly an hour when at last--the mist having +cleared a little--I saw a light in front, a little to one side. It +seemed to bob up and down as I ran--the lane was uneven just here, and +once or twice I was afraid it had gone. But no--there it was again, and +to my joy I found it came from a cottage window across a field to the +right. + +"I shall find I am miles and miles from home," I thought, and just fancy +my surprise when I knocked at the door and asked my way, to be told that +I was not half-a-mile from the hall." + +I had gone thoroughly wrong almost from the first, and the long lane +skirted the fields away up on higher ground behind our house as it were, +where I had had no business to be at all. + +They were just sallying out with lanterns to look for me, but they never +would have thought of that lane, and there I might easily have been left +all night if my strength had really failed. + +Oh how glad I was to change my damp clothes and to have a nice hot cup +of tea in my mother's room beside the fire! + +Since then I have never boasted about being sure to find my way. + + +EDMUND EVANS, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, RACQUET COURT, FLEET STREET, + LONDON, E.C. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, by +Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + +***** This file should be named 30547-8.txt or 30547-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/4/30547/ + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.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. 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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 Thirteen Little Black Pigs + and Other Stories + +Author: Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +Illustrator: W. J. Morgan + +Release Date: November 26, 2009 [EBook #30547] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + + + + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net" + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="395" height="500" alt="" title="Book cover" /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE<br />THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS</h1> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + + +<h1><span class="smcap">And Other Stories</span></h1> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Mrs Molesworth</span></h2> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY W. J. MORGAN</h3> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">London</span><br /> Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge<br /> NEW. YORK. E & J. B. +Young & Co<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="392" height="550" alt="" title="title page" /> +</div> + + + +<p class="center"> + LONDON:<br /> + + ENGRAVED AND PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS,<br /> + + RACQUET-CT., FLEET-ST., E.C.<br /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="55%" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Thirteen Little Black Pigs</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_7'>7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Right Hand and Left</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Shilling of Halfpence</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_38'>38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Friend in Need</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Pansy's Pansy</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_54'>54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Pet's Half-crown</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_76'>76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Catapult Story</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Very Long Lane; or, Lost in the Mist</span></td><td align="right"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + + <h2>THE THIRTEEN<br /> + LITTLE<br /> + BLACK PIGS</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/img07.jpg" width="650" height="361" alt="" title="THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS" /> +</div> + +<h3>CHAPTER. I</h3> + +<p>The house stood on rising ground, and the nursery was at the top of the +house—except of course for the attics above—so there was a good view +from the two large windows. This was a great comfort to the children +during the weeks they were busy getting better from a long, very long, +illness, or illnesses. For they had been so unwise as to get measles, +and scarlet fever, and something else—I am not sure if it was +whooping-cough or chicken-pox—all mixed up together! Don't you think +they might have been content with one at a time? Their mamma thought so, +and the doctor thought so, and most of all, perhaps, nurse thought so.</p> + +<p>But when they began to get really better, they themselves weren't so +sure about it. Maxie said to Dolly that he really thought it was rather +clever to have finished up all the illnesses at once, and Dolly agreed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +with him, adding that their cousins had been nearly as long "with <i>only</i> +measles." But nurse, who heard what they were saying, reminded them that +instead of them "finishing up the illnesses," as Master Max said, it +might have been the illnesses finishing <i>them</i> up. Which was true +enough, and made Max, who was the older of the two, look rather grave.</p> + +<p>And then the getting better was <i>very</i> long, especially as it was early +spring, and there were lots of damp and chilly days still, and for weeks +and weeks there was no talk or thought of their going out, and it was +very difficult indeed not to get tired of the toys and games their +mother provided for them, and <i>even</i> of her very nicest stories. +Besides, a mamma cannot go on telling stories all day, however sorry she +is for her little invalids, and however well she understands that when +people, little or big, have been ill and are still feeling weak, and +"unlike themselves," it is very, <i>very</i> difficult not to be discontented +and quarrelsome. So but for the nursery windows I don't quite know what +the children would have done sometimes.</p> + +<p>The windows both looked out at the same side, which was a good thing in +some ways and a bad thing in others. Each child had a special one, and +as Dolly said to Maxie, "if yours had been at the back, you could have +told me stories of what you saw, and I could have told you stories of +what I saw."</p> + +<p>"It couldn't have looked out at the back," said Max, who was more of an +architect than his sister, for he was two years older, "for it's there +the nursery's joined on to the house. It could only have looked to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +side, and the side's very stupid—just shrubs and beds, nothing to see +except the gardeners sometimes, and p'r'aps there'd have been a scroodgy +bit of seeing round to the front, so I'd rather have it as it is. +Indeed, if there had been one at the side, I wouldn't have had it for my +window at all."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img09.jpg" width="500" height="297" alt="" title="it was very difficult indeed not to get tired of the +toys & games" /> +</div> + + +<p>"You'd have had to," said Dolly, her voice sounding rather "peepy," +"'cos I'm a girl, and I <i>hope</i> you're a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"I'm the eldest," said Max, "and that always counts. Stuff about being a +gentleman; the Prince of Wales won't give up being king to let his +sister be queen, will he?"</p> + +<p>This was rather a poser.</p> + +<p>"Papa says," Dolly began, but she stopped suddenly. "Oh Maxie,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> she +went on, in <i>quite</i> a different tone of voice, "what <i>is</i> coming into +Farmer Wilder's field? It isn't turkeys this time. Oh, Maxie, what can +it be?"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 295px;"> +<img src="images/img10.jpg" width="295" height="400" alt="There's only twelve." title="" /> +</div> + +<p>For they were both at their posts, though for the last few minutes Max +had not been giving much attention to the outside world, and I rather +fancy too, that Dolly's eyes were quicker than his.</p> + +<p>He turned to the window now—it <i>was</i> a very nice look-out certainly, at +that side of the house. First there was their own lawn, which the +gardeners were now busy "machining," as the children called it, and +skirting it at the right the broad terrace walk where the dogs loved to +follow their father as he walked up and down, often reading as he went. +Then on the left there were the "houses," where there was always some +bustle of washing the glass or moving the pots, or watering or +<i>something</i> going on. And though hidden from the view of the front of +the house, there was, farther back, a path to the poultry-yard, where +two or three times a day their mamma's pet beauties were fed, and the +noise and chatter of the pretty feathered creatures could be heard even +through the closed nursery windows. For this was not the big +poultry-yard, but their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> mother's own particular one. And most +interesting of all, perhaps, further off beyond the lawn, divided from +it by a "ha-ha," there was the great field let to Farmer Wilder, where +all sorts of creatures were to be seen in their turn; sometimes cattle, +sometimes sheep, sometimes only two or three quiet old horses. There had +been nothing but horses there lately—not since the turkeys had been +taken away—so it was no wonder that Dolly's eyes were caught by the +sight of a sudden arrival of new-comers.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/img11.jpg" width="283" height="400" alt="" title="There are thirteen" /> +</div> + +<p>There they came—rushing, scrambling, tumbling over each other—one, +two, three—no, it was impossible to count them as yet—they were just a +mass of rolling jerking black specks against the green grass, and for a +minute or two, the children stared and gazed and wondered, in complete +silence.</p> + +<p>What could they be?</p> + +<p>"Are they little bears?" Dolly was on the point of saying, only she +stopped short for fear of Maxie's laughing at her, as he had done that +time when they were staying at their grandmamma's in London, and she had +asked if it was rabbits that had nibbled the crocuses in the square +gardens.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rabbits in London!" said Max, with lordly contempt. "What a baby you +are, Dolly!"</p> + +<p>Dolly had never forgotten it; she hated being called "a baby" in that +tone, and very likely Max would laugh even more if she asked if these +strange visitors were little bears.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 352px;"> +<img src="images/img12.jpg" width="352" height="400" alt="" title="Pigs" /> +</div> + +<p>So she waited. Then said her brother in his grand, big man tone, as if +he had known it all the time, which he hadn't—</p> + +<p>"They're pigs—just little black pigs of course. Can't you see their +curly tails, Dolly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dolly in rather a disappointed tone, "I can, now I know +they're pigs. But I thought that they were something curiouser than +pigs—though," and her voice grew more cheerful again, "I never saw +quite <i>black</i> pigs before, did you, Maxie? What makes them black, I +wonder?"</p> + +<p>"You've seen black men?" said Max. "Well, it's like that—there's black +men and proper-coloured men, so there's black pigs and proper-coloured +pigs."</p> + +<p>"But black men are painted black. Christy minstrel men are, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> know, for +nurse told me so when I was frightened of them. And <i>pigs</i> couldn't +paint themselves black. But oh, Max," she broke off, "do look how +they're running and jumping now. They're all over the field. One, two, +three, four—there's <i>thirteen</i> of them, Maxie."</p> + +<p>"No," said Max, after a moment or two's silence, "there's only twelve."</p> + +<p>Dolly counted again—it was not very easy, I must allow. But she stuck +to it.</p> + +<p>"There are <i>thirteen</i>," she repeated.</p> + +<p>Two could play at that game.</p> + +<p>"There are <i>twelve</i>, I tell you, you silly," said Max, without taking +the trouble to count them again as carefully as Dolly had done.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img13.jpg" width="350" height="120" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<div class="backright" style="background-image: url(images/img14white.jpg); height: 100%;" title="CHAPTER II"> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:1000px; height:230px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:500px; height:425px;"> </div> + +<p>"<big>T</big>here are <i>thirteen</i>," repeated Dolly again. "Look, Max, begin at the +side of the field nearest the gate—there are three close together, and +then—oh dear, two have run back to the others, and—no, I can't count +aloud, but I'm sure—" and she went on to herself, "one, two, three, +four,"—"there <i>are</i> thirteen, I'm as sure as sure."</p> + +<p>"And <i>I'm</i> as sure as sure, or surer than sure, that there are only +twelve," said Max, aggravatingly.</p> + +<p>"Master Max and Miss Dorothy, come to your tea," said nurse's voice from +the table. "And it's getting chilly—the evenings aren't like the middle +of the day—you mustn't stand at the windows any more. It's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> draughty, +and it would never do for you to be getting stiff necks or swollen +glands or anything like that on the top of all there's been."</p> + +<p>The two came slowly to the tea-table, but their looks were not very +amiable.</p> + + +<p>"You're so rude," said Dolly to her brother, "contradicting like that. I +never saw anybody so <i>persisting</i>."</p> + +<p>"How can you help persisting when you know you're right?" said Max. "I +can't tell <i>stories</i> to please you."</p> + +<p>But I must say his tone was more good-natured than Dolly's.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, "can <i>I</i> tell stories to please <i>you</i>? I <i>know</i> there +are thirteen."</p> + +<p>"And I <i>know</i> there are only twelve," retorted Max, more doggedly.</p> + +<p>After that they did not speak to each other all through tea-time. Nurse, +who often complained of the chatter-chatter "going through her head," +should have been pleased at the unusual quiet, but somehow she wasn't. +She had a kind heart, and she did not like to see the little couple +looking gloomy and cross.</p> + +<p>"Come, cheer up, my dears," she said, "what <i>does</i> it matter? Twelve or +thirteen, though I don't know what it is you were talking about—call it +twelve-and-a-half and split the difference, won't that settle it?"</p> + +<p>It was rather difficult not to smile at this suggestion—the idea of +chopping one of the poor little pigs in two to settle their dispute was +too absurd. But Dolly pinched up her lips; <i>she</i> wasn't going to give +in, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> smiling would have been a sort of <i>beginning</i> of giving in, you +see. And Max, to save <i>him</i>self from any weakness of the kind, started +whistling, which nurse promptly put a stop to, telling him that +whistling at table was not "manners" at all!</p> +</div> +<p>This did not increase Master Max's good temper, especially as Dolly +looked very virtuous, and as if <i>her</i> "manners" could never call for any +reproof. And a quarter-of-an-hour or so later, when mamma came up to pay +them a little visit, it was very plain to her that there was a screw, +and rather a big screw, loose somewhere in the nursery machinery. For +Max was sitting in one corner pretending to read, and Dolly was sitting +in another corner—the two furthest-off-from-each-other corners they +could possibly find—pretending to sew, and on both little faces the +expression was one which mammas are always very sorry indeed to see.</p> + +<p>But mammas learn by experience to be wise. And all wise people know that +when other people are "upset" or "put out," <i>or</i>, to say it quite +plainly, "in a bad temper," it is no use, even though it is rather +difficult not to do so, to go "bang at them," with some such questions +as these: "What <i>is</i> the matter with you?" "What <i>are</i> you looking so +cross about?" "Have you been quarrelling, you tiresome children?" and so +on. Especially if, as these children's mamma just now was clever enough +to find out, the angry feelings are beginning to soften down into +unhappiness, and the first little whisper of "wishing I hadn't been so +cross"—or "so unkind," is faintly making its way into the foolish, +troubled little hearts. At that moment a sharp or severe word is sadly +apt to drown the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> gentle fairy voice, and to open the door again to all +the noisy, ugly imps of obstinacy and pride and unkind resentment, who +were just <i>beginning</i> to think they had best slink off.</p> + +<p>So this loving and wise—wise because she was loving, and loving because +she was wise!—mother said nothing, except—</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;"> +<img src="images/img17.jpg" width="244" height="400" alt="" title="I did some knitting" /> +</div> + +<p>"I am so sorry not to have come up before, dears, but I have been very +busy. Has it been a very dull afternoon for my poor little prisoners?"</p> + +<p>"Not so very," said Dolly, slipping off her seat, and sidling up to her +mother, who had settled herself on the old rocking-chair by the fire, +with a nice comfortable look, as if she were not in a hurry. "Not so +very—we read some stories, and I did six rows of my knitting, and Max +cut out some more paper animals for poor little Billy Stokes—and—then +we went to our windows and began looking out," but here Dolly's voice +dropped suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Well," said her mother, "that all sounds very nice. But what happened +when you were looking out at your windows?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing <i>happened</i>," said Max, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Well—what did you see? And what did you <i>say</i>? I can tell from your +faces that things haven't gone cheerfully with you all the +afternoon—now have they?" said mamma.</p> + +<p>"No," Dolly replied eagerly, "they haven't. Only p'r'aps we'd better say +nothing more about it. I don't want it all to begin again. If Max likes +I'll try to forget all about it, and be friends again."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind being friends again," said Max, "I'd rather. But I don't +see how we <i>can</i> forget about it—they're sure to be there again +to-morrow, and then we <i>couldn't</i> forget about them. Oh, I wonder if +they're there still, if it's not too dark to see them," he went on, +suddenly darting to the window. "Then mamma could count them, and that +would settle it."</p> + +<p>"This is very mysterious," said mamma, smiling, "Dolly, you must +explain."</p> + +<p>But Max was back from the window before Dolly could begin, and his first +words were part of the explanation.</p> + +<p>"They're gone in," he said in a disappointed tone, "but I don't know +that it matters much. For it would have been too dark for you to count +them properly, mamma. It was a lot of little pigs, mamma, in Farmer +Wilder's field; little black pigs—twelve of them."</p> + +<p>"<i>Thirteen</i>," said Dolly.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" began Max, but he stopped. "That's it, you see, mamma," he +said, in a melancholy tone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's <i>what</i>?" asked mamma.</p> + +<p>"The—the quarrel. Dolly will have it there were thirteen, and I'm sure +there were only twelve."</p><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img19.jpg" width="500" height="323" alt="" title=" Max cut out some paper Animals" /> +</div> + + +<p>"And," said Dolly, laughing a little—though I must say I think it was +mischievous of her to have snapped in with that "thirteen"—"nurse heard +about 'twelve' and 'thirteen,' but she didn't know what it was about, so +she asked us if we couldn't split the difference. Fancy splitting up a +poor little pig."</p> + +<p>"There isn't one to split, not a <i>thirteen</i> one," said Max, rather +surlily.</p> + +<p>"Yes there is," retorted Dolly.</p> + +<p>Mamma looked at them both.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear children," she said. "You really <i>must</i> be at a loss for +something to quarrel about. And after all, you remind me of——"</p> + +<p>"What do we remind you of, mamma?" asked both, eagerly, "something about +when you were a little girl?"</p> + +<p>"No, only of an old story I have heard," said mamma.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do tell it," said Max and Dolly.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/img20.jpg" width="600" height="409" alt="" title="Oh, do tell it." /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<div class="backright" style="background-image: url(images/img21.jpg); height: 100%;" title="CHAPTER III."> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:900px; height:290px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:100px; height:120px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:550px; height:260px;"> </div> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;"> <span class="smcap">IS</span> scarcely a 'story,'" said</span><br /> <span style="margin-left: 8em;">their mother, "it was only</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">about a tremendous quarrel</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">there once was in ancient</span><br /> + <span style="margin-left: 8em;">times between some people</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em;">as to what colour a certain</span><br /> shield was. One party declared it was black; +the other maintained it was white. Both were ready to swear to the fact, +and I don't know what terrible consequences might not have followed, had +it not suddenly been discovered that—what do you think? Can you guess?"</p> + +<p>Max and Dolly knitted their brows and pondered. But no, they could not +guess.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What was it, mamma?" they asked.</p> + +<p><br />"One side of the shield was black and the other white," said she, with a +quiet little smile, "so both were right and both were wrong."</p> + +<p>The children considered. It was very interesting.</p> + +<p>"But," said Max, "it <i>couldn't</i> be like that with Dolly and me—there +couldn't be thirteen and <i>not</i> be thirteen."</p> + +<p>"No, it is difficult, I own, to see how that could be," said mamma. "But +queer things do happen—there are queer answers to puzzles +now-and-then."</p></div> + +<p>"I wish it was settled about ours," said Dolly, with a sigh. "I—I don't +like quarrelling with dear Maxie," and she suddenly buried her face in +her mother's lap and began to cry—not loudly, but you could see she was +crying by the way her fat little shoulders quivered and shook.</p> + +<p>This was too much for Max.</p> + +<p>"Dolly," he said, tugging at her till she was obliged to look up, +"<i>don't</i>—I can't bear you to be unhappy because of—because of me—do +kiss me, Dolly, and don't let us ever think any more about those stupid +little black pigs."</p> + +<p>So they kissed each other, and it was "all right."</p> + +<p>"But," said Dolly, "I'm so afraid it'll begin again when we see them. +Could papa ask Farmer Wilder to put them somewhere else, mamma? We can't +leave off looking out of our windows, <i>can</i> we?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think it would be rather a babyish way of keeping from quarrelling, +to ask to have the temptation to quarrel put away," said mamma. +"Besides—it would <i>have</i> to be settled, you see."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 247px;"> +<img src="images/img23.jpg" width="247" height="400" alt="So they kissed each other" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Yes, but," said Dolly, "then one of us would have to be wrong, and I'd +rather go on fancying that <i>somehow</i> neither of us was wrong."</p> + +<p>"That's rubbish," said Max, "it <i>couldn't</i> be."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Listen," said mamma; "promise me that neither of you will look out of +the window to-morrow morning before you see me. Then if it is really a +fine mild day, the doctor says you may both go a little walk."</p> + +<p>"<i>Oh</i>, how nice!" interrupted the little prisoners. "And I will take you +myself," their mother went on. "Immediately after your dinner—about two +o'clock will be the best time. And we will see if we can't settle the +question of the thir—no, I had better not say how many—of the little +black pigs, in a satisfactory way."</p> + +<p>Mamma smiled at the children—her smile was very nice, but there was a +little sparkle of mischief in her eyes too. And <i>I</i> may tell <i>you</i>, in +confidence, though she had not said so to Max and Dolly, that that +afternoon she had passed Farmer Wilder's when she was out walking with +their father, and had stood at the gate of the very field which the +children saw from the nursery window, where the little black pigs were +gambolling about. And Farmer Wilder had happened to come by himself, and +he and his landlord—the children's father, you understand—had had a +little talk about pigs in general, and these piglings in particular. And +so mamma knew more about them than Max and Dolly had any idea of.</p> + +<p><i>How</i> pleased they were when they woke the next morning to think that +they were really going out for a little walk—out into the sweet fresh +air again, after all these weary dreary weeks in the house. And it was +really a very nice day; there was more sunshine than had been seen for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +some time, so that at two o'clock the children were all ready—wrapped +up and eager to start when their mother peeped into the nursery to call +them.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 297px;"> +<img src="images/img25.jpg" width="297" height="400" alt="out for a walk" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>At first the feeling of being out again was so delicious it almost +seemed to take away their breath, and they could not think of anything +else. But after a few minutes they quieted down a little, and walked on +with their mother, one at each side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We kept our promise, mamma," said Dolly, "we didn't look out of our +windows at all this morning. Nurse let us look out of the night nursery +one for a little—it's turned the other way, so we couldn't see the +pigs."</p> + +<p>"But we'll <i>have</i> to see them in a minute," said Max, "when we come out +of this path we're close to the gate of the big field, you know, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I know," said mamma, "but I want to turn the other way—down the little +lane, for before we go to the field to look at the pigs, I want to speak +to Farmer Wilder a moment."</p> + +<p>A few minutes brought them to the farm, and just as they came in sight +of it, Mr. Wilder himself appeared, coming towards them. Max and Dolly +started a little when they first saw him; something small and black was +trotting behind him—could it be one of the piglings? Their heads were +full of little black pigs, you see. No, as he came nearer, they found it +was a small black dog—a new one, which they had never seen before.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mr. Wilder," said their mother, "that's your new dog—Max +and Dolly have not made acquaintance with him yet. 'Nigger,' you call +him? He's a clever fellow, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"A bit too clever," replied the farmer. "He's rather too fond of +meddling. Yesterday afternoon he got into the big field where we'd just +turned out all the little black pigs, and he was chasing and hunting +them all the time."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They'll not get fat at that rate," said the children's mother, smiling. +"What a lot of them there are—twelve, didn't you say, yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—a dozen—nice pigs they are too," said the farmer, "perhaps it +would amuse the children to see them—black pigs are rare in these +parts."</p> + +<p>He turned towards the field, Max, Dolly and their mother following.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Max, eagerly, "did you hear? There's only twelve."</p> + +<p>"But I saw <i>thirteen</i>," said Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said mamma. "You were right as to the number of pigs, Max, but +Dolly was right as to the number of black creatures she counted, for +Nigger was there. So you were wrong in your <i>counting</i>, Max, and Dolly +was wrong in the number of pigs, and so—"</p> + +<p>"Both were right and both were wrong," cried the children together, +"like the people who quarrelled about the shield!"</p> + +<p>"Just fancy!" said Dolly.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> queer!" said Max.</p> + +<p>And when they got to the gate and stood looking at the pigs—I think +Dolly preferred keeping the gate between her and them—they counted +again, and this time there were only twelve! For Nigger was standing +meekly at his master's heels, having been whipped for his misdemeanours +of the day before.</p> + +<p>"Any way, mamma," said Dolly, as they made their way home again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> after a +pleasant little walk, "it shows how silly it is ever to <i>quarrel</i>, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it does," Max agreed.</p> + +<p>And you may be sure mamma was <i>quite</i> of the same opinion!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img28.jpg" width="500" height="348" alt="rural scene" title="" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/img29.jpg" width="650" height="401" alt="Right Hand And Left" title="" /> +</div> +<h3><a name="Right_Hand_And_Left" id="Right_Hand_And_Left"></a>Right Hand And Left</h3> + + +<p>An old friend had come to see the children's mother. They had not met +for several years, and the visitor was of course interested in seeing +all the little people.</p> + +<p>So mamma rang the bell for all five to come down from the nursery. Lily +and Belle, being the two eldest, came first. Lily was eleven, Belle's +ninth birthday was just passed. They were followed by their two +brothers, Basil and George, who were only seven and five, and Baby +Barbara, a young lady of two. They were a pleasant-looking little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +party, and their kind-faced new friend asked many questions about them, +as each was introduced to her by name.</p> + +<p>The children did not care very much for her remarks as to whom each of +them was like, for she spoke of relations most of them were too young to +remember, or had scarcely ever heard of, as she was an elderly lady.</p> + +<p>But the two older girls at least, listened with all their ears to one or +two little things their own dear mother herself said about them.</p> + +<p>"Lily," she said, as she drew forward the fair-haired little girl, "is +already quite my right hand."</p> + +<p>Lily's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but Belle grew rather red, and +turned away. She was not the least like Lily, her hair was dark and cut +short round her head, for she had had a bad illness not long ago.</p> + +<p>The stranger lady had quick eyes.</p> + +<p>"And Belle?" she said, kindly. "You can't have two right hands of +course. But I've no doubt she is a helpful little woman too, in her +way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" said her mother, "she is. And she is getting on well with her +lessons again, in spite of having been so put back last year."</p> + +<p>"And," said the old lady—who had noticed the rather sullen look on +Belle's little brown face—"I hope the two sisters love each other +dearly, besides being a pair of extra hands to their mother."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lily smiled back in reply.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I am sure we do."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<img src="images/img31.jpg" width="429" height="500" alt="They were a pleasant-looking little party" title="" /> + +</div> + +<p>Soon after, their mother sent them all upstairs again. Nurse had come +down to fetch Baby, and the two boys trotted off together. Lily took +Belle's hand as they got to the foot of the stairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Isn't she a nice lady?" she said, for Lily was feeling very pleased +just then with herself and everybody else—I must say she was very +seldom a cross little girl, but she was perhaps rather too inclined to +be pleased with herself—"and didn't you like," she went on, "what mamma +said of us two, to her?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Belle, roughly, pulling herself away from her sister. "I +don't want to be counted a clumsy, stupid, left hand. I don't wonder +you're pleased, you always get praised."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Belle!" said Lily. "I really don't think you need be so cross about +it. You know you're younger than I."</p> + +<p>But Belle would not answer, and all the rest of the afternoon she +remained very silent and gloomy, looking, to tell the truth, as if that +strange invisible little "black dog," that we have all heard of, I +think, had seated himself comfortably upon her shoulders, with no +intention of getting off again in a hurry.</p> + +<p>It was a fine summer's day, almost too hot indeed, so the children had +tea early and went out a walk afterwards, returning in time to spend +half-an-hour with their mother, before she went to dress for dinner.</p> + +<p>This half-hour was generally a very happy time for all the children. But +to-day one little face was less bright than usual, and mamma's eyes were +not slow to notice it, though she said nothing.</p> + +<p>When the three little ones had gone off to bed, their mother glanced at +the two elder girls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are quite ready, I see, for coming into the drawing-room before +dinner," she said.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/img33.jpg" width="306" height="500" alt=""No", said Belle, roughly"——" title="" /> + +</div> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," Lily replied, "all except washing our hands. They do get +so quickly dirty in this hot weather, if we romp about at all."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I think you might practise a little, papa likes to see one of you +in the drawing-room when he comes in, and to-night Belle shall be with +me while I'm dressing."</p> + +<p>"Very well, mamma dear," said Lily, running off as cheerfully as usual. +Being with their mother when she was dressing was a great treat, it +didn't happen every night, and the little girls took it in turns. This +evening I don't think Lily was at all sorry to be without her sister's +company, for the little black dog, or at least his shadow, was still on +Belle's shoulders.</p> + +<p>Belle sat quietly in a corner of the room, her mother said very little +to her, not even when Collins, the maid, had gone.</p> + +<p>"You must wash your hands, I think, before coming down to the +drawing-room," she said at last, as she poured some nice warm water into +a pretty little basin with rose-buds round the edge, which the children +admired very much.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, mamma," said Belle, brightening up a little, "and may I use +your beautiful pink scented soap, please?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly dear," said her mother, and Belle set to work to wash her +little brown hands, which, it must be confessed, were decidedly in need +of it.</p> + +<p>Rather to her surprise, her mother stood beside her looking on.</p> + +<p>"Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, mamma?" asked the +little girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;"> +<img src="images/img35.jpg" width="340" height="550" alt=""Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, +mamma?"" title="" /> + +</div> + +<p>"No, dear, I'm sure you will do that. I was wondering if it has ever +struck you how prettily and kindly your little hands behave to each +other. Right hand is the cleverest and quickest, of course, but left +hand is always willing and ready too. They take care not to hurt or +scratch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> each other, and if by chance one is ever hurt, the other is as +tender as possible not to rub or touch the sore place."</p> + +<p>Belle went on washing her hands, or rather bathing them in the water, +for by this time they were quite clean. She looked at them as she did +so, but she did not speak.</p> + +<p>"And another thing," said her mother, "take one out of the water, and +see how helpless the other is, even clever right hand can do very little +without her sister, and it is the same in all the work you do, one hand +would be very little use without the other."</p> + +<p>Belle's face grew rosy.</p> + +<p>"Mamma dear," she said, as her hands wiped each other dry on the nice +soft towel, "I know what you mean. You're like a fairy, mamma, you can +see into my heart. I didn't like that lady thinking Lily was your right +hand, and me no good to you. It made me feel as if I didn't love Lily."</p> + +<p>"But nobody said you were no good, Belle dear. You made that up in your +own silly little head. For you know even though Lily is older, you can +still help me a great deal, and even help her to help me," said her +mother.</p> + +<p>"Like as if you were the head, and we your two hands," answered Belle. +"Well, mamma, I won't mind now even if you count me only your left hand, +and I'll always remember what you've said."</p> + +<p>She kissed her mother, quite happy now, and when they were going to bed +that night she told Lily all about it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am afraid," said Lily, looking sorry, "that I was too proud of what +mamma said of me. But if each of us is always as kind to the other as +right hand is to left hand, and left hand to right hand, it will be all +right, won't it dear?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img37.jpg" width="350" height="138" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 900px;"> +<img src="images/img38.jpg" width="900" height="468" alt="" title="A SHILLING OF HALFPENCE" /> +</div> + +<h3><a name="ASHILLING_of_HALFPENCE" id="ASHILLING_of_HALFPENCE"></a><span class="smcap">A·SHILLING of HALFPENCE</span></h3> + + +<p>She was a lonely little old lady. She was one of those who had "seen +better days," as it is called. I am afraid there are a great many people +in the world of whom this can be said, and the saddest part of it is +that they are very, very often, <i>old</i> people.</p> + +<p>It is sad to see anyone in want even of comforts, and still more of +really needful things, but I think it is worst of all to see very old or +very young folk deprived of what they should have. Middle-aged men and +women seem more fit for the battle of life than those who are already +tired by what they have come through, or those who have not yet got to +their full strength and courage.</p> + +<p>My little old lady was not what is commonly counted <i>very</i> poor. She had +enough to eat—certainly her appetite was small—and enough to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> pay the +rent of the two neat little rooms, furnished with what she had been able +to keep of her own old furniture, which had once stood in a very +different kind of house; and enough, with <i>great</i> care, to dress herself +nicely; and, what she considered quite as important as any of these +things, she managed to have enough to give her mite of help to those +still poorer and more closely pressed than herself.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 144px;"> +<img src="images/img39.jpg" width="144" height="400" alt="" title="Billy" /> +</div> + +<p>How I got to know her I am not at liberty to say. But I will tell you +about the first time I ever saw her and <i>him</i>, the other person of this +little story.</p> + +<p>It was a cold, but for a wonder in London in the winter, a bright and +dry morning. All the better, you will say—of course everybody must like +nice clean streets and pavements much more than sloppy rain and mud. But +no; not quite <i>everybody</i>. Think of the crossing-sweepers! Dirty, muddy +days are their harvest-time, especially Sundays, when in the better +parts of the town there are so many more rich and well-to-do foot +passengers than on other days. It was a real disappointment, and worse +than a disappointment—a real serious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> trouble to little Billy Harding, +when, after the best breakfast his poor mother could give him—and that +isn't saying very much—he hurried downstairs from the attic which was +his home, brush in hand, to find the pavements dry as a bone, and the +roads almost <i>clean</i>!</p> + +<p>"I made sure it were going to rain beautiful," he said to himself, +dolefully, "it looked so uncommon like it, last night."</p> + +<p>But the wind had veered round to the east while Billy was fast asleep, +and as everybody knows, the east wind, which "is neither good for man +nor beast," hasn't <i>even</i> the good quality of bringing profitably dirty +streets for the poor crossing-sweepers.</p> + +<p>There was nothing for it but to go to his post, however, and there it +was I saw him that same cold, dry, clean Sunday morning, when I myself +was on my way to church. Very likely I should never have noticed <i>him</i>, +nor <i>her</i> either, if I had met them separately, but it was the seeing +them standing together, talking earnestly, that caught my attention, and +the anxious, rather troubled expression on the little old lady's face, +and the bright eager look on the boy's, made me wonder what it was all +about. A dreadful idea crossed my mind for an instant—could he be a +naughty boy? had he possibly been trying to pick the old lady's pocket, +and was she talking to him in hopes of making him repentant, as is +sometimes the way with tender-hearted old ladies, instead of giving him +in charge to a policeman? (Not that there was any policeman in view!) +But another instant made me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> feel ashamed of the thought—a second +glance at the boy's honest face was enough.</p> + +<p>Now I will tell you what had happened; how I came to know it does not +matter.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 499px;"> +<img src="images/img41.jpg" width="499" height="500" alt="" title="Thank you, ma'am," /> +</div> + +<p>I told you my little old lady always managed to give away something to +others. One of her habits was to put one shilling into the box in the +church porch "for the poor of the parish," the first Sunday of every +month, and if you knew how <i>very</i> little she had to live on, you would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +agree with me that this shilling, which was not her only charity, was a +<i>good deal</i>. The morning I am writing of was the first Sunday of the +month, and as she set off for church she held in her thin old fingers +inside her well-worn muff two coins—a shilling and a halfpenny, the +halfpenny being intended for the first crossing-sweeper she met on her +way. This was another of her little customs. She had some way to go to +church, and she did not always choose the same streets, so she had no +special pet crossing-sweeper, and this morning it was Billy into whose +hand she dropped the coin she was holding in her tremulous fingers.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," said Billy, tugging at his ragged cap with the same +hand in which he had received the money, for he had his brush in the +other, and he was anxious to show his gratitude. It was his first +receipt that morning!</p> + +<p>"Poor boy," thought the old lady, "he does look cold. I wish I could +have made it a penny."</p> + +<p>But the kind wish had scarcely crossed her mind before she heard a voice +beside her.</p> + +<p>"Please ma'am," it said, "do you know what you give me just now?"</p> + +<p>And Billy, red with running, held out a very unmistakeable <i>shilling</i>!</p> + +<p>The old lady gasped, and drew out the coin she was firmly clasping in +her muff. It was a rather extra worn halfpenny!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/img43.jpg" width="650" height="385" alt=""DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GIVE ME JUST NOW?"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, my good boy!" she began, but Billy interrupted her. He saw at once +how it was. And if he gave a little sigh, can you wonder? It <i>would</i> +have been "jolly," if she had replied, "All right, my boy. I meant it +for you," and as he had run after her he had thought it <i>might</i> be so. +For Billy was wise in some things, as the poor learn to be. He knew that +it is not by any means those who have most to give who give most.</p> + +<p>But a glance at the troubled old face told him the truth.</p> + +<p>"All right, ma'am," he said again. "'Twas a mistake. Mistakes will +happen," and he dropped the silver piece back into her hand.</p> + +<p>"Take the halfpenny at least, my boy," said she. "It was very good, very +good indeed of you to tell me of my mistake. If it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> money I could +spare on myself—but—it is my rule to give this once a month at church, +and—I could not make it up again."</p> + +<p>"All right, ma'am," Billy repeated for the third time, anxious to be off +before the old lady could hear the choke of disappointment in his voice.</p> + +<p>(It was just then I passed them.)</p> + +<p>"But I'll tell you what I'll do," she went on, brightening up. "I'll pay +you the shilling in halfpence, every week. I'm sure I can manage that. +So you look out for me each Sunday morning, and I'll have it ready," and +off she trotted, quite happy at having thus settled the difficulty. "I +shouldn't feel <i>honest</i>" she said to herself, "if I didn't make it up to +him after really <i>giving</i> it to him. And a halfpenny a week even I can +manage extra."</p> + +<p>For of course Billy's halfpenny was not to interfere with her regular +Sunday morning's dole to the first crossing-sweeper she met.</p> + +<p>I think she was right. I am sure that the halfpennies he received so +regularly till what she thought her debt to him was paid, helped to make +and keep Billy Harding as honest as a man as he had been as a child.</p> + +<p>The next winter saw no little old lady trotting along to church in the +cold. She went away for her treat of the year—a fortnight in the +country; but she fell ill the very day she came back, and never was able +to go out again. It fell to my share—she asked me to do it—to tell the +little crossing-sweeper when she died, and to give him a small present +she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> had left him. He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes—he didn't want +me to see he was crying.</p> + +<p>"'Twill seem quite strange-like never to see her no more," he said. "I +were just beginning to wonder when she'd be back. Twenty-four Sundays +and she never missed, wet or dry! I'd have liked her to know I goes too, +reg'lar, to church in the afternoons as she wanted me to."</p> + +<p>And for his own sake, as well as for the dear old lady's, I never lost +sight of poor Billy from that time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img45.jpg" width="350" height="133" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/img46.jpg" width="650" height="439" alt="" title="A FRIEND IN NEED" /> +</div> +<h3><a name="A" id="A"></a>A<br /> + +FRIEND IN NEED</h3> + + +<p>Laurence was a little English boy, though he lived in Paris. He had +several older brothers and sisters, but none near him in age. So he was +often rather lonely, for he was only six years old, and too young to do +many lessons. Half-an-hour in the morning and half-an-hour in the +afternoon made up his school time, though of course his next brother and +sister, who were twelve and thirteen years old, had to do a great deal +more than that.</p> + +<p>I daresay they would not have minded doing a little <i>less</i>. I know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> they +were always very pleased to have a holiday, or even a half-holiday, and +in the evenings when their lessons were done they were very kind and +ready to play with their little brother.</p> + +<p>Laurence had a German nursery-maid. She was a good girl, but not very +lively or quick, and she could not speak either French or English. When +she first came to take care of Laurence he only knew a very few words of +German, so you can imagine that his walks with Emma, as she was called, +were not very amusing. But after a while Laurence got on with his +German, much faster than Emma did with either French or English, which +of course was as it should be, seeing that she had come on purpose to +teach him her language. And then he and his nurse became very good +friends in a quiet way. For he was rather an unusually quiet little boy, +and he thought a great deal more than he spoke.</p> + +<p>Still he <i>did</i> sometimes wish he had a brother or sister near his own +age. It did not seem quite fair that he should be so alone in the +family. Hugh and Isabel were such nice friends for each other, and so +were the two still older sisters and the big brother of all, who was +called Robert. Now and then when little Laurence was trotting along the +street by Emma's side he would look with envy at other children, two and +three together, and wish that one of them "belonged" to him.</p> + +<p>But there were others alone, even more alone than he was. This he found +out before long. At the corner of the "Avenue" where he lived,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> there +was a large house opening into a court-yard, like all large houses in +Paris, and just inside this court-yard Laurence often saw a little girl +not much bigger than he was, always playing about by herself. She was +the daughter of the "<i>concierge</i>," or porter, who took care of the big +house, and though she was neat and tidy she was not at all a rich little +girl. For though the house was a big one, it was not lived in by rich +people, and the <i>concierge</i> and his wife and little girl had only two +small rooms for their home.</p> + +<p>Laurence did not know the little girl's name, but in his own fancy he +called her "Gay." She always looked so bright and happy. And after a +while the two children began to smile at each other as if they were +friends, and sometimes Gay would call out, "Good morning, Sir. What a +nice day!" or some little speech like that, to which Laurence would +reply, "Good morning, Miss," like a little gentleman, lifting his cap as +he spoke. Of course these remarks were made in French. In English they +do sound rather odd, I must allow.</p> + +<p>One day Laurence and Emma set off for rather a long walk. It was the day +before Isabel's birthday, and he wanted to buy a present for her at one +of the very large shops. He was not sure what the present was to be, but +he <i>thought</i> that he would choose a pincushion, as he had seen some very +pretty little fancy chairs and sofas not long ago at this same big shop, +which Emma told him were pincushions. He knew exactly what part of the +shop to go to, and he had his money—a whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> franc—that is about +tenpence of English money, in his little purse safe in his pocket.</p> + +<p>They reached the shop without any adventure or misadventure, and soon +Laurence, holding the maid's hand, was walking slowly past the counters +or tables where lots of tempting pretty things were displayed. It was +some time before they found the particular table where the fairy-like +furniture was laid out. But at last Laurence gave a little cry of joy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/img49.jpg" width="550" height="365" alt="" title="untitled, boy raises hat" /> +</div> + +<p>"There they are, Emma," he said in German, "the dear little arm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>chairs +and sofas and ottomans—blue and rose and white, and all with gold backs +and legs. Now which would Isabel like?"</p> + +<p>It was a great question, but at last they decided on a rose-coloured +arm-chair. The price he was sure was all right, as Emma had seen that +the things were all marked one franc. But alas, when the shopman gave +Laurence the little paper bill, and the boy as proud as possible went to +the desk where it was to be paid, the clerk held out his hand,—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/img50.jpg" width="550" height="445" alt="" title="untitled, in a toy shop" /> +</div> + +<p>"Five centimes more, if you please—one sou."</p> + +<p>A sou is about the same as an English halfpenny, and it is often<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> called +a "five centime piece"—for there are ten centimes in each <i>two</i>-sous +piece, just as there are four farthings in one English penny.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<img src="images/img51.jpg" width="650" height="394" alt="" title="untitled, in a toy shop" /> +</div> + +<p>"Another sou?" said Laurence. "But I have not got one. Emma, have you +got one?"</p> + +<p>Emma had nothing at all in her pocket. It was stupid of her, but she had +not thought of bringing her purse. However it was so little, and she +began asking the clerk in her very bad French, mixed with German words, +to let the little gentleman have the pincushion for a franc.</p> + +<p>The clerk shook his head.</p> + +<p>"At least," said poor Laurence, "let me have it now and I will bring the +sou to-morrow, or my mamma will send it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again the man shook his head. Perhaps he was in a bad temper, perhaps he +did not feel the more good-natured because he may have thought the boy +and his nurse were German. For at that time the French nation did not +love Germans. Let us hope they have learnt better since.</p> + +<p>"Pass on, sir," he said sharply, "you are blocking the way," and the +people standing round began to laugh. The tears rose to the little boy's +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh! what shall I do?" he cried, "and to-morrow is Isabel's birthday."</p> + +<p>Then came a little voice beside him.</p> + +<p>"Sir—may I offer it? Will you accept this sou from me?" and a small +hand held out the coin. It was little Gay.</p> + +<p>"Oh thank you, thank you," exclaimed Laurence joyfully, and the grim +clerk received the sou and the parcel was handed to him.</p> + +<p>How he thanked the kind little girl! She was there with her mother, and +while the good woman was choosing an umbrella at a stand close by, Gay, +as I must still call her, had noticed her little friend and wondered +what he was in difficulty about. And of all the people near him in the +shop, she alone had the kind thought of offering him the sou.</p> + +<p>I need not tell you that after this the good little girl was looked upon +by Laurence as quite a friend. He went with Emma the next morning to pay +back the five centime piece, and when New Year's Day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> came, a pretty +present for Gabrielle, which was her real name, was one of the gifts +which Laurence and his mother had the greatest pleasure in choosing.</p> + +<p>Was it not nice that the little girl was called "Gabrielle," for +Laurence was able to go on calling her "Gay," as it made such a good +short name for the real one.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img13.jpg" width="350" height="120" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<h3><a name="Pansys_Pansy" id="Pansys_Pansy"></a><span class="smcap">Pansy's Pansy.</span></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Flower Market</span></h4> + +<h4>PART I.</h4> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img54.jpg); height: 100%;" title="Pansy's Pansy I and capital T"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:500px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:530px; height:140px;"> </div> + +<p><span class="smcap">HERE</span> was a flower-market once a week in the town of Northclough.</p> + +<p>It was every Thursday, the regular market-day, when the country people +came in to sell and to buy. But Northclough was not a pretty, +old-fashioned country town, such as you would very likely fancy from the +mention of markets and country folk. Once, long ago, it had been a +village, a rather lonely and out-of-the-way village, though never a +pretty one. For it was up in the north, as its name tells, in a bare and +cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> part of the world, where the grass is never very brightly green, +and the skies much more often grey than blue.</p> + +</div> + +<p>And now, as far as looks go, any way, it had changed from bad to worse. +The village had grown into a smoky town, where there were lots<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> of high +chimneys, and constant sounds of machinery booming away, and railway +trains shrieking and whistling in and out of the stations. There was no +longer any ivy on the old church, which the oldest people could remember +almost buried in it. And the new churches which had been built since, +already looked old themselves—no stones could keep clean or fresh in +such smoky grimy air.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 327px;"> +<img src="images/img55.jpg" width="327" height="500" alt=""The Nurse"" title="" /> + +</div> +<p>But some of the old customs still lingered on, and one was the weekly +market, which was held just outside the old church walls—the walls of +the church-yard, I should say—every Thursday, just as it had been since +the village first grew into a small market town, more than a hundred +years ago. And what some people would have done without the pleasure and +amusement of this market, I should be afraid to say. I mean some +<i>little</i> people, the children of the vicar, who lived with their parents +in a grey old house, as grey and old as the church itself, which stood +at one side of the market place.</p> + +<p>It was grey and grim outside, but inside the father and mother made it +as bright and cheery as they could. In winter I think they managed this +better than in summer, for good blazing fires do a great deal, +especially of an evening when the curtains are drawn and the cold north +wind, howling and blustering outside as if in a rage at not being able +to get in, only makes the house seem still cosier. And one of the good +things about the north is that coals are cheap and plentiful, so that +though the vicar was not rich, there was no need to go without +comfortable fires.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + + +<p>But in summer it was sometimes <i>not</i> easy to make the old house look +cheerful. Very little sunshine could get in, for on two sides the +neighbouring houses almost shut out the light. And the sun had hard +work, persevering though he is, to get through the murky air—murky even +in summer—that hangs like a curtain over what is called a +"manufacturing town." Then there was no garden of any kind, as the new +schools had been built on what was once the vicarage lawn, though after +all I hardly think a garden would have been much good, and perhaps the +children's nurse was right when she said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better without it, 'twould only have been a trap for more soots and +smuts, and it's hard enough to keep the pinafores clean for half-an-hour +together as it is."</p> + +<p>Nurse had come with their mother from the south, and she didn't take +kindly to the greyness, and the smokiness, and the grimness at all. But +she took very kindly to the babies, which was after all of more +consequence.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/img57.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt=""There were four of them."" title="" /> + +</div> + + +<p>There were four of them—they were "leaving off being babies" now, as +little Ruth, the youngest but one, said indignantly, when some one spoke +of her and Charlie in that disrespectful way. "Charlie's three and I'm +four, and Pansy's nearly six, and Bob's seven past."</p> + +<p>That was Ruth's description of the family, and I think it will do very +well, though some people might say it began at the wrong end.</p> + +<p>And these were the little people who would have been badly off without +the weekly market, which they looked forward to as the "next best" treat +to having tea in the dining-room on Saturday evenings with mamma.</p> + +<p>Their nursery windows overlooked the market place. The nurseries were +the brightest rooms in the house, and as it was a large house, whatever +its faults in other ways, there were three of them. The day nursery in +the middle and a large bedroom on one side, and on the other a small one +which was beginning to be called "Miss Pansy's room." And on Thursdays +Pansy's room was in great request, as from <i>its</i> window one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> had the +best view of all of the market, especially of the corner where the +flowers were.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/img59.jpg" width="600" height="398" alt="Pansy's Window was in GREAT REQUEST" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>There was always <i>something</i> to be seen on the flower-stalls, even in +winter, when there was nothing else there were evergreens, holly and +mistletoe of course, in plenty, as Christmas came on. And though some +other parts of the market might be more amusing and exciting, where the +cocks and hens, and geese and ducks, were all to be heard gabbling, and +quacking and clucking and crowing, for instance; or the railed-in place +where there were generally a few calves or poor little frightened sheep +bleating and baa-ing, yet the little girl's first thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> was always +the flower corner. First thing on Thursday morning, sometimes before it +was light, she would lie wondering what sort of dear little plants there +would be <i>this</i> week, and hoping it would be a fine day, so that nurse +would let her poke her head out through the bars a tiny bit, so as to +see better, without calling to her that she would catch cold.</p> + +<p>Pansy's birthday was in May—she was going to be six. She liked having a +birthday because mamma always invited herself to tea in the nursery, and +if it happened to be one of papa's not very busiest days, he would +sometimes join them too. That <i>was</i> delightful.</p> + +<p>Generally she got two or three simple presents, and always one very good +and valuable one from her godmother. But strange to say this handsome +present never pleased her half so much as the little trifling ones. Her +godmother was kind, but she was old and unused to children, and she had +not seen Pansy since she was very tiny, so her thought was more perhaps +about helping Pansy's mother than pleasing Pansy herself. And so the +present was sure to be a new frock—or stuff to make one with, or a nice +jacket, or even once—that was <i>rather</i> a funny present for a little +girl, I think—a new set of china tea-cups and saucers and plates and +milk jugs and everything complete for a nursery tea-service.</p> + +<p>But "to make up" for godmother's presents being so very "useful," +Pansy's mother always gave her something pretty and pleasant, a doll, or +some doll's furniture, or picture books or some nice ornament for her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +room. Any little girl of six or seven can easily fancy the kind of +presents I mean.</p> + +<p>This sixth birthday, however, was going to be rather different. For on +this day the godmother thought it was time to give Pansy a present of +another kind. What that was, I will tell you in the next part.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img13.jpg" width="350" height="120" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="PANSYS_PRESENTS" id="PANSYS_PRESENTS"></a>PANSY'S PANSY.</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Pansy's Presents.</span></h4> + +<h4>PART II.</h4> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img62.jpg); height: 100%;" title="Pansy's Pansy II"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:460px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:240px; height:80px;"> </div> + +<p> <span class="smcap">BIRTHDAY</span> was on a Wednesday. And though it was only May the<br /> weather +for a wonder was mild and sunny. Northclough for once<br /> was looking almost +bright.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> nice for you to have such a fine day to be six years old on, +Miss Pansy dear," said nurse, when she came in to wake up the two little +sisters and to give her own birthday present of a neat little pincushion +for Pansy's toilet table. And the boys had something for her too, at +least it was called "the boys'," to please Charley, though in reality it +was Bob who had bought it, or the things to make "it" with. For the "it" +was a little blotting-book covered outside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> with thick cardboard on +which pretty pictures were pasted. It was very cleverly made, for Bob +was wonderfully neat-handed for such a little boy, and it had taken +quite a lot of contrivance to get it done without his sister's finding +out about it. And Ruth's present was a pen-wiper.</p> + +<p>Pansy <i>was</i> pleased.</p> + +<p>"I can write to godmother now without having to ask mamma to lend me her +writing-case," she said. "I suppose," she went on, "I shall have to +write to her to-day; there's sure to be a useful present come from her," +and Pansy sighed a little, for the writing to godmother was the one part +of her birthday she did <i>not</i> enjoy.</p></div> + +<p>Nurse could not help smiling at what she would have called Miss Pansy's +"old-fashioned" way of speaking. She always talked of godmother's +"useful presents," because she had so often been told that frocks and +jackets and so on were such nice, useful gifts. And perhaps I should +have mentioned before, that godmother did not forget the little people +at Northclough Vicarage at Christmas, something useful was sure to come +then, for she was great aunt to them all as well as godmother to one.</p> + +<p>But before nurse had time to speak, the door opened and the children's +mother came in. They were at breakfast in the day nursery by this time. +She had a bright smile on her face and a small parcel in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, darlings, to you all," she said, "and many, many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> happy +returns to my Pansy. Papa told me to kiss you for him too, he won't be +in till dinner-time I'm afraid. There now, a kiss for him and one for +myself," Pansy was in her mother's arms long before this, "<i>and</i> a +present from godmother."</p> + +<p>Mamma sat down on the nursery rocking-chair as she spoke, and laid the +parcel on her knee, and Pansy, stooping down beside her, began to undo +the string which fastened it.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a useful present this time, mamma?" she asked, for certainly +it did not look like a hat or a frock, or a hamper of china.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will think it so," said her mother smiling, "and pretty +too."</p> + +<p>"A <i>book</i>," exclaimed the little girl, "and oh, yes, it <i>is</i> a very +pretty one. And oh, mamma, it's <i>two</i> books, in a 'loverly'"—Pansy +still said some words rather funnily—"case, all red leather, and, oh! +my own name, 'Pansy,' <i>how</i> nice! What can they be? A prayer-book and a +hymn-book, with such beautiful big letters, and 'reds' in the +prayer-book. How I wish it was Sunday, for me to take them to church."</p> + +<p>She was truly delighted—her little face all rosy with pleasure. Mamma +could not resist giving her another kiss.</p> + +<p>"You will take the greatest care of them, I know, dear," she said. "And +now I have only a very tiny present from papa and me," and she held out +a bright new shilling. "You may buy <i>anything</i> you like with it, dear."</p> + +<p>This was delightful news. What between her pride in her beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +"church books," as she called them, and thinking over what her shilling +would buy, the little girl had hard work to eat her breakfast that +morning, even though, in honour of the birthday, it was an extra nice +one.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/img65.jpg" width="550" height="378" alt="" title="untitled, woman in rocking chair and child" /> +</div> + +<p>You will think I am a very long time getting to <i>the</i> "pansy," which +gives its name to this little story, but we are coming to it now.</p> + +<p>There was a great consultation held in Pansy's room, and this was what +the children decided; sixpence should be spent on a pair of ducks to +float in a basin of water attracted by a magnet, a toy which they had +seen in a shop window with the price marked in plain figures. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +sixpence should be spent, for Pansy's own special pleasure, in a flower +growing in a pot, such as they had often seen on the flower-stall below +their windows. The ducks could be bought that very morning, which Pansy +was glad of, as she knew that Bob and Ruth were even more anxious to +have them than she was herself. But for the flower she would have to +wait till the next day.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/img66.jpg" width="550" height="412" alt=""The birthday passed very happily,"" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>However, the birthday passed very happily, and it was very nice to wake +in the morning with the feeling that part of its pleasures were still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +to come, and mamma promised to go with her herself to the stall to +choose the flower.</p> + +<p>It was to be a pansy. Not a <i>quite</i> fully blown one, her mother advised +her, for then it would be the sooner over, but one nearly so. There had +been quite a good choice of them for the last week or two; the only +difficulty would be what colour to have.</p> + +<p>"Yellow ones are very pretty," said the little girl as she skipped along +by her mother's side that Thursday morning on their way to the market, +for though it was just below the vicarage windows, you had to make quite +a round to get to it from the front door, "yellow ones, and those browny +ones too are very nice, but I <i>think</i> I like the purple ones best—I +mean the violet-coloured ones—don't you mamma?"</p> + +<p>"I think I do," her mother agreed. "They remind one of the dear little +wild pansies, or dog violets, too."</p> + +<p>And by good luck, the old woman who kept the flower-stall, had some +beautiful purple pansies, none of the paler ones were half so pretty +that day, so the choice was not so difficult after all. Mamma picked out +a beauty, with two flowers on it, one almost full blown, and the other +not far behind, and a proud little girl was Pansy, as, after having paid +her sixpence she trotted home again, her precious namesake tightly +clasped in her arms.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I've ever had such nice birthday presents, have I, +mamma?" she said, as she lifted up her own soft little face, as sweet +and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> as soft as the flower, for a kiss, before hurrying upstairs to the +nursery to show her treasure.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<img src="images/img68.jpg" width="434" height="600" alt="" title="untitled, the market place" /> +</div> + +<p>And it made her mother very happy to see that her little daughter had +that best of all fairy gifts, a grateful and contented heart.</p> + +<p>But Pansy had her troubles like other people, as you will hear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Pansys_Pansy_Part_III_mdash" id="Pansys_Pansy_Part_III_mdash"></a><span class="smcap">Pansy's Pansy.</span></h3> + +<h4>PART III.</h4> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img69.jpg); height: 100%;" title="Pansy's Pansy III and ornamental The"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:130px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:470px; height:725px;"> </div> + +<p> <span class="smcap">PANSY</span> was installed in state on its little owner's window-sill. For +there were deep old-fashioned window-sills in the vicarage that served +in turn both as tables and seats for the children. So Pansy warned her +brother and sister that they must be very careful now not to climb up on +to <i>her</i> window-sill without asking her first, so that she could move +the flower-pot out of the way.</p> + +<p>Bob and Ruth both promised. And indeed they were very nearly quite as +much taken up with the pretty flower as Pansy herself. If she <i>could</i> +have forgotten to water it, she would have been well reminded to do so. +I don't think there was ever a plant more watched, and cared for. It was +Pansy's first thought in the morning and last at night. Every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> little +speck of dust was tenderly wiped off its leaves, it was moved from one +part of the room to another to get the sunshine, of which, as I have +told you, there was seldom more than a scanty amount at Northclough, and +the window-sill, its own particular home, was kept as clean as if the +pansy was a fairy princess who got out of her flower-pot at night to +take a little exercise on her terrace.</p> + + +<p>And very soon the two flowers were at their perfection; they were very +fine ones really, and I think Pansy knew every mark on their faces as +well as a mother knows the dimples in her darling's cheeks, even the +freckles on her darling's forehead. Truly the little girl had got a good +sixpenceworth of pleasure out of her purchase.</p> + +<p>The weather grew warmer, early in June it was really sultry for a few +days. Pansy began to be careful in a new way for her pet. It must not be +allowed to get <i>too</i> hot, or to be broiled up by the sun, so a shady +corner was chosen for the flower-pot during the middle of the day. And +it really seemed grateful for the care bestowed upon it. Never did a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +pansy prosper better, or lift itself up in fresher beauty to greet its +little gardeners.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 379px;"> +<img src="images/img70.jpg" width="379" height="500" alt="Bob had an inspiration" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>But one day, unfortunately, Bob had an inspiration, if you know what +that is.</p> + + + +<p>"Pansy," he said to his sister, "I've been thinking if you want the +flowers to last as long as they possibly can, you must really give them +a little more fresh air. It's all very well in the daytime when your +window's open, but at night I'm sure the pansy feels choky and stuffy. +You see flowers aren't like us, except hot-house ones of course, they're +used to live out-of-doors."</p> + +<p>Pansy looked very anxious.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if it's that," she said. "I noticed, though I tried to think +it was fancy, that one of the biggest flower-leaves," (she meant +"petals," but she was too little to know the right word), "not the +<i>leaf</i>-leaves you know, was a tiny atom of a bit crushed up, almost +like," and here Pansy dropped her voice, as if what she was going to say +was almost <i>too</i> dreadful to put in words, "almost like as if it was +beginning to—to wither a little."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +</div> +<p>Bob nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"That's it," he said, "I bet you anything that's it. It's want of fresh +air. Well, Pansy, I've measured the ledge outside, it's quite wide +enough to hold the flower-pot and the saucer, and though it slopes +downwards a very little, it's nothing to make it stand unsteady. Now +suppose, last thing at night, we put it outside, I'm sure it would +freshen it up, and flowers are just as used to night air as to day air."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 447px;"> +<img src="images/img71.jpg" width="447" height="500" alt="no Pansy, no flower-pot, nothing to be seen!" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Pansy agreed; she examined the outer sill with Bob, it seemed all right. +So that evening when the children's bedtime came, pansy flower was told +by Pansy little girl what her kind mamma and uncle had planned for her +benefit, and with what Pansy called a kiss, a very butterfly kiss it +was, for the little girl was as afraid of hurting the pansy as if it had +been a sensitive plant, the flower-pot was placed on the ledge outside.</p> + +<p>First thing next morning Pansy flew to look at the flower.</p> + +<p>"Have you had a good night, my darling? oh, yes, I think so. You look +very fresh and well, though a <i>little</i> wet." For a gentle shower had +fallen in the night. "Perhaps the rain will have done you good."</p> + +<p>Bob was quite sure it had, certainly the crumply look on the purple +petal was no <i>worse</i>, so the plan was kept to, and every night the pot +was carefully settled on the ledge.</p> + +<p>I think it was on the third morning that the dreadful thing happened +which I must now tell you of.</p> + +<p>When Pansy opened the window to draw in her dear flower and bid it good +morning, there was no pansy, no flower-pot, <i>nothing</i> to be seen!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a sort of shriek Pansy flew across the day nursery to the bedroom +where nurse was dressing baby Charley, while Bob, all ready, was giving +the last touch up to his curly hair.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/img73.jpg" width="600" height="516" alt="" title="untitled, children at the door" /> +</div> + +<p>"Nurse, Bob," she cried, "have you <i>possibly</i> brought the pansy in while +I was asleep?"</p> + +<p>But nurse and Bob shook their heads. Then they all hurried back to +Pansy's room, and nurse, bidding the children stand back, peered out of +the window. There was a tiny strip of ground railed in between the house +and the street. Nurse drew her head in again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Master Bob," she said, "run down and ask cook to let you out by the +back-door. I think I see the poor flower down there. It must have fallen +over."</p> + +<p>Yes, <i>knocked</i> over by a stray cat, most likely. The children had never +thought of cats. There it lay! Bob and the cook did their best, but +there was little to do. It was a poor little clump of green +"leaf-leaves" only that remained, when the sad procession from the +nursery tapped at their mother's door, Pansy's face so disfigured by +crying that you would <i>scarcely</i> have known her.</p> + +<p>Mamma was very sorry for her, very, <i>very</i> sorry. She knew that to Pansy +it was a real big sorrow, trifling as some people might think it. But, +still, as she told the little girl, sorrows and troubles <i>have</i> to come, +and till we learn to bear them and find the sweet in the bitter we are +not good for much. So she encouraged Pansy to be brave and unselfish and +not to make the nursery life sad and miserable on account of this +misfortune. And Pansy did her best. Only she begged her mother to take +the flower-pot away.</p> + +<p>"I think I would like it to be buried," she said with a sob. "It's like +when Bob's canary died."</p> + +<p>But two or three days after that, it may have been a week even, one +morning mamma came into the nursery looking very happy and carrying +something in her hand over which she had thrown a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Pansy dear," she said, "I waited to tell you till I was quite sure. I +did not 'bury' your pansy root, and I have been watching it. And do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> you +know there is another bud just about to burst, and a still tinier one, +all green as yet, but which will come on in time. In a week or two you +will have two new flowers quite as pretty, I hope, as the other ones."</p> + +<p>"Oh mamma," said Pansy, clasping her hands together. Her heart was too +full to say more.</p> + +<p>And the buds did blossom into lovely flowers, even lovelier, the +children thought, than the first ones. For there was the intense delight +of watching them growing day by day, the gardener's delight which no one +can really understand who has not felt it.</p> + +<p>No accident happened this time, and when the season was over, the pansy +root was planted in a corner of the little strip of flower border at the +side of the house, where it managed to get on very well, and perhaps +will have more buds and flowers for several springs to come.</p> + +<p>There is one thing more to tell. Pansy's godmother was so touched by the +story of the pansy, that she sent an "extra" present to the vicarage +children that summer, though it wasn't any "birthday" at all. The +present was a beautiful case of ferns, with a glass cover, so that it +could stand in the house all the year round. It was placed in the window +of the landing on to which the nursery opened, and there, I hope, it +stands still. For it would be impossible to tell the delight this +indoors forest gives to the children, who have grown so clever at +managing it, that Bob really thinks they should try for a prize at the +next "window gardening" exhibition.</p> + +<p>For there <i>are</i> such cheerful things as that, one is glad to know, even +at smoky Northclough!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Pets_half-crown" id="Pets_half-crown"></a><span class="smcap">Pet's half-crown</span></h3> + + +<div class="backright" style="background-image: url(images/img76.jpg); height: 100%;" title="Pet's half-crown"> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:1000px; height:270px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag" style="width:575px; height:400px;"> </div> + + +<p>Mammas have troubles sometimes, though you mightn't think it. They have +indeed. I remember when I was a little girl that it seemed to me big +people <i>couldn't</i> have real troubles; that only children had them. Big +people could do as they liked, get up when they liked, not go to bed +<i>till</i> they liked; eat what they chose, dress as they pleased, do no +lessons, and were never scolded. Things do not look quite like that to +me now, when for many many more years than I was a child I have been a +big person. However, as each of you will find out for himself or herself +all about big people in good time, I won't try to explain it to you. +Only, I do think the world might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> get on better if little people +believed that big ones <i>have</i> their troubles, and—if big people +believed and remembered the same thing about little ones.</p> + +<p>Some children seem wise before their time. They early learn what +"sympathy" means—they begin almost before they can talk to try to bear +some part of other people's burdens.</p> + +<p>A little girl I once knew, who was called "Pet," (though of course she +had a proper name as well,) was one of these. She was a gentle little +thing, with large soft rather anxious-looking blue eyes; eyes that +filled with tears rather <i>too</i> easily, perhaps, both for her own +troubles and other people's.</p> + +<p>But she got more sensible as she grew older, and by the time she was ten +or so she had found out that there are often much better ways of showing +you are sorry for others than by crying about them, and that as for +crying about <i>ourselves</i>, it is always a bad plan, though I know it +can't quite be helped now and then.</p></div> + +<p>Pet was the eldest, and a very useful "understanding" little eldest she +was. <i>She</i> knew that her mother had troubles sometimes, and she did her +best to smooth them away whenever she possibly could.</p> + +<p>One of the things she was often able to do to help her mother was by +keeping her little brothers and sisters happy and amused when they came +down to the drawing-room in the evening, and now and then, if it were a +rainy day, earlier. For mamma felt sorry for the children if they were +shut up in the nursery for long, and as all little people know, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +change to the drawing-room is very pleasant for them, though sometimes +rather tiring for mammas.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;"> +<img src="images/img78.jpg" width="550" height="306" alt="" title="untitled, bedroom story" /> +</div> + +<p>It happened one afternoon, a very wet and cold afternoon in January, +when there was no possibility of going out, that <i>all</i> the children were +downstairs together. There were four of them besides Pet, and it was not +very easy to amuse them all. But Pet was determined to do her very +best—for she knew that mamma was <i>particularly</i> busy that day, as she +had all her accounts to do. And indeed poor mamma would have been very +glad to have a quiet afternoon, but nurse had a headache, and baby, who +had had a bad night, was sleeping peacefully for the first time, and +must not be disturbed. There was nothing for it but to bring the little +troop downstairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We will be very good and quiet, mamma dear," said Pet. "You can go on +doing your accounts, for I know you can't do them this evening, as aunty +is coming. Charley and I,"—Charley was the next in age to Pet—"will +show all our best picture-books to the little ones."</p> + +<p>Charley was very proud to hear himself counted a big one with Pet, and +he did all he could to help her. They really managed to keep the others +quiet, and Pet was hoping that mamma was getting on nicely with her long +rows of figures, and that soon she would be calling out gladly, "All +right. I can come and play with you now," when to her distress she heard +her mother give a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear mamma, what's the matter?" she said, "are we disturbing you?"</p> + +<p>"No, darling, you are as quiet as mice," her mother replied. "But I +don't know how it is—I have counted it all up again and again, and I am +<i>sure</i> I have put down everything I have spent, but I am half-a-crown +wrong. Dear, dear—what a pity it is! Just as I thought I had finished."</p> + +<p>And again mamma sighed. She did not like to think she had perhaps lost +half-a-crown, for she and Pet's father had not any half-crowns to spare.</p> + +<p>"I will just go and see if possibly it is in my little leather bag that +I always take out with me," she said. And she rose as she spoke and left +the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>Pet felt sure it was not in the little bag, for she had been standing by +when her mother emptied it.</p> + +<p>"Poor mamma," she said softly. "I can't bear her to be troubled."</p> + +<p>Then the colour rose into her face and her eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"Charley," she whispered, "keep the little ones quiet for one minute," +and off she flew.</p> + +<p>She was back in <i>less</i> than a minute, though she had found time to run +up to her room and take something out of a drawer where she kept her +treasures. Then she ran across to her mother's writing-table and slipped +this something under the account-books, lying open upon it.</p> + +<p>And almost immediately mamma came back.</p> + +<p>"No," she said sadly, "it was not in my bag. I fear I have lost it +somehow, for I am sure my accounts are right. I must just put it down as +lost."</p> + +<p>But in another moment came a joyful cry.</p> + +<p>"Pet," she exclaimed, "<i>would</i> you believe I could be so stupid? Here it +is—the missing half-crown—slipped under my account book! I <i>am</i> so +pleased to have found it. Now, children dear, mammy can come and play +with you with a light heart."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad you are happy again, mamma darling," said Pet; and if her +mother noticed that her little girl's cheeks were rosier than usual, and +her eyes brighter, no doubt she only thought it was with the pleasure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +of all playing together. For I don't think they had ever had a merrier +visit to the drawing-room.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img81.jpg" width="500" height="378" alt="" title="untitled, at a writing desk" /> +</div> + +<p>You have guessed the secret before this, I am sure? That little Pet had +fetched her own half-crown to play a loving trick with it. It was her +only half-crown, her only money, except one sixpenny-bit and two +pennies! But she gave it gladly, just saying to herself that it was a +very good thing Christmas-time was over and no birthdays very near at +hand.</p> + +<p>And she kept her secret well. So well, that though a great many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> years +have passed since then, it was only a <i>very little while ago</i> that her +mother heard, for the first time, the story of her child's loving +self-denial. The smile on mamma's face, and the knowledge that she had +brought it there were Pet's only reward.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + + + +<h3><a name="A_Catapult_Story" id="A_Catapult_Story"></a><span class="smcap">A Catapult Story.</span></h3> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img83.jpg); height: 100%;" title="A Catapult Story"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:230px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:615px; height:580px;"> </div> + +<p>"Oh, well, you can have a catapult if you like," said Hector, with +lordly disdain. "It doesn't matter to <i>me</i>, and it certainly won't +matter to any one or anything else. You'll never hit anything—girls +never do. They can't throw a stone properly."</p> + +<p>"You're very unkind, and—and—very horrid," said Dolly, nearly crying. +"It's very mean and un—it's not at all like knights long ago, always to +be saying mocking things of girls."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rubbish," said Hector. "Besides, if you come to that, girls or ladies +long ago didn't want to do things like—like men," the last word with a +little hesitation, for he knew Dolly was sharp enough to be down on him +if he talked big. "They stayed at home and did sensible things, for +women; cooking and tapestrying, and nursing wounded soldiers."</p> + + + +<p>"They had to go out to the battle-fields sometimes to get the wounded +soldiers—<i>there</i>!" said Dolly triumphantly. "And what's more, some of +them <i>did</i> know how to fight, and did fight. Think of Jeanne d'Arc, +and—and—somebody, I forget her name, who defended her husband's +castle."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img85.jpg" width="500" height="377" alt="" title="untitled, running away" /> +</div> + +<p>"All right," said Hector. "I'm not quarrelling with your having a +catapult, and you can defend your husband's castle with it if you +like—that's to say if you ever get a husband. <i>I</i> should think a girl +who knew how to sew nicely, and to keep her house very neat and +comfortable, a much nicer wife than one who went about catapulting and +trying to be like a man. And you know you're not really so grand and +brave as you try to make out, Dolly. You screamed like anything the +other day when I threw a piece of wood that looked like a snake at you."</p> + +<p>"It was very mean and cowardly of you to try to frighten me,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> said +Dolly. "And I know somebody that needn't boast either. Who was it that +ran away the other day when Farmer Bright's cow got into our field? +Somebody thought it was a bull, and was over the hedge in no time, +leaving his sister to be gored or tossed by the terrible bull."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img84.jpg" width="500" height="397" alt="" title="untitled, out walking" /> +</div> +<p>Hector grew red. He was not fond of this story, which had a good deal of +truth in it. It seemed as if a quarrel was not very far off, but Hector +thought better of it.</p> + +<p>"I was very sorry afterwards that I ran away," he said. "You know I told +you so, Dolly, and I really thought you were close beside me till I +heard you call out. I don't think you need cast up about it any more, I +really don't."</p> + +<p>Dolly felt penitent at once, for she was a kind little girl, and +Hector's gentleness touched her.</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't, then," she answered, "if you'll teach me how to +catapult."</p> + +<p>Hector did his best, both that day and several others. But I must say I +have my doubts as to whether catapults are meant for little girls. Dolly +tried over and over and over again, but she never could manage to hit +anything she aimed at. And at last her patience seemed exhausted.</p> + +<p>"I'm tired of it," she said. "I'll give it to Bobby. I shan't try to +catapult any more."</p> + +<p>And it would have been rather a good thing if she had kept to this +resolution.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img87.jpg); height: 100%;" title="But the next day when she was out in the garden"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:480px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:590px; height:150px;"> </div> + +<p>But the next day when she was out in the garden with her brothers, +admiring Hector's good aim and the wonderful way in which he hit a +little bell which he had hung high up on the branch of a tree as a sort +of target, it came over her that she would try once again.</p> + +<p>"Look at that bird, up on the top of the kitchen-garden wall," she said. +"I'll have a go at it."</p> + +<p>Hector laughed.</p> + +<p>"I think the bird's quite safe," he said.</p> + +<p>Dolly thought so too. She did not want to hurt the bird, she was really +speaking in fun. But all the same she aimed at it, and—oh, sad and +strange to say—<i>she hit it</i>! a quiver of the little wings, and the +tiny<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> head dropped, and then—in a moment it had fallen to the foot of +the high wall on which it had perched so happily a moment before!</p> + +<p>The children rushed forward breathlessly. Dolly could not believe that +she had hurt it, scarcely that she had hit it.</p> + +<p>But alas! yes. It was quite dead.</p></div> + +<p>Hector held it in his hand. The bright eyes were already glazed—the +feathers limp and dull.</p> + +<p>And oh, worse and worse, it was a wren. A little innocent, harmless +wren.</p> + +<p>Dolly's sobs were bitter.</p> + +<p>"I'll never touch a catapult again," she said. "A nasty horrid cruel +thing it is. And I didn't really mean to hit the poor wren."</p> + +<p>"It was only a fluke, then," said Hector, who, in spite of his sorrow +for the wren, had felt some admiration for his sister's skill.</p> + +<p>"N—no, not that," she said. "I <i>did</i> aim, but I never thought I'd hit +it. Still, Hector, it shows you I <i>can</i> hit, you see;" and the thought +made her leave off crying for a moment or two. But the sight of the poor +little wren changed her triumph into sorrow again.</p> + +<p>"I've done with shooting," she said, as she threw the unlucky catapult +away.</p> + +<p>And then she covered up the dead wren in her handkerchief and went in to +tell her troubles to "mamma."</p> + +<p>Her mother was very sorry too.</p> + +<p>"You must think of it as a sort of accident," she said. "But let it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> be +a lesson to you, dear Dolly, never to do anything half in joke, or for +fun as it were, which could cause trouble to any one if it turned into +earnest."</p> + +<p>There was some comfort in the thought that it was late autumn, and not +spring-time, so there was no fear of poor little Jenny Wren's death +leaving a nestful of tiny orphan fledglings. And Hector helped Dolly to +bury the bird in a quiet corner of the garden.</p> + +<p>But all the same, Dolly has never liked catapults since that unlucky +day!</p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/img13.jpg" width="350" height="120" alt="" title="chapter end decoration" /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="A_very_long_Lane_or_Lost_in_the_mist" id="A_very_long_Lane_or_Lost_in_the_mist"></a><span class="smcap">A very long Lane or Lost in the mist</span></h3> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img90.jpg); height: 100%;" title="A very long Lane or Lost in the mist"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:1000px; height:340px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:450px; height:350px;"> </div> + +<p>Have you ever been lost? Really lost. I mean to say have you ever had +the <i>feeling</i> of being lost? It is rather a dreadful feeling. I had it +once and I have never forgotten it. I will tell you about it.</p> + +<p>I was about fifteen at the time. We were living for some months in a +large country house belonging to relations of ours, in the west of +England. In that part of the world many of the roads are really only +narrow lanes, where two carriages cannot pass—it is very awkward indeed +sometimes, if you meet a cart or any vehicle at a narrow part. One or +other has to back ever so far, till you come to a gateway or to a little +outjut in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> lane making it wider just there. And these lanes are sunk +down below the level of the fields at their sides, and there are high +hedges too, so that really you may drive for miles and miles and +scarcely know where you are. It is difficult to know your way even in +broad daylight—even the people who live there always, have often to +consult the finger-posts, of which, I must allow, there are plenty! And +for strangers or new-comers it is <i>very</i> puzzling.</p> + +<p>We got on pretty well however. My elder sisters drove about a great deal +in a jolly little two-wheeled pony cart, and as I was small and light, I +was often favoured with an invitation to accompany them, sitting in the +back seat, which was <i>not</i> luxurious.</p></div> + +<p>"It does very well for Thecla," my sisters used to say, "she is so thin. +And she's as handy as a boy about jumping out to open the gates."</p> + +<p>I didn't mind—I was only too pleased to go, in any way, and rather +proud to be called handy.</p> + +<p>So I got to know the country pretty well, and I would not have been +afraid, by daylight at least, to go a good distance alone.</p> + +<p>One day some friends who lived about three miles off, came to luncheon +with us. There were two or three grown-up ladies, and a girl just about +my age, named Molly. She was my principal friend while we were living +there, as she was very nice and we suited each other very well. The +older people, both of her family and of mine, drove away in the +afternoon to a large garden party some way off, to which we were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +thought too young to go, or very likely there was not room for us in the +carriages. But we were very happy to stay behind. We were to have tea +together, and then it was arranged that I was to take Molly half-way +home.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/img92.jpg" width="500" height="394" alt="Off we set, in very good spirits," title="" /> + +</div> + +<p>"Be sure you are not later in starting than half-past five," said my +mother, "so that you can be back before it begins to get dark," for it +was already September.</p> + +<p>And Molly's mother repeated the warning, only adding, "I am not the +least anxious about Molly—she knows the way so well. But it might be +puzzling for Thecla, as our lanes are really a labyrinth after dark."</p> + +<p>"Oh I am <i>sure</i> I couldn't get lost between here and Three Corners," I +said, laughing. "Three Corner Court" was the quaint name of Molly's +home.</p> + +<p>Well—we found the afternoon only too short—we enjoyed our nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> tea +very much, and felt rather reluctant to set off as soon as it was over.</p> + +<p>"It is barely half-past five," I said. But Molly was very determined.</p> + +<p>"We must start," she said. "I feel responsible for you, Thecla, for you +will have to come back alone."</p> + +<p>"As if I <i>could</i> lose my way, when I have only to come straight back the +way you take me," I said, "and I have been a bit of that way before."</p> + +<p>We were not going by the road but by a short cut, part of which was a +foot-path through the fields, and <i>generally</i>, I had driven to Three +Corners, so that there was some reason for Molly's carefulness.</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure," she said, "you don't know how like some of the +fields are to each other, as well as the lanes. We have regular +landmarks we depend upon."</p> + +<p>Off we set, in very good spirits, laughing and talking. We laughed and +talked a little too much perhaps, for though the very first part of the +way was through our own grounds, where I could not of course have gone +astray, we soon came to a succession of fields—several of them ploughed +land—which certainly were very like each other. We crossed two or three +lanes, going a few steps in one direction or the other to get to the +gates, and keeping always in the same line ourselves. Suddenly Molly +stopped in the middle of a very interesting discussion of a book we had +been reading.</p> + +<p>"Thecla," she said, "you've come more than half way—you must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> turn back +now, for it will be getting dusk. And oh dear, I didn't point out the +old hawthorn at the gate of the great Millside field—and it <i>is</i> so +easy to mistake it for Southdown field, and then you'd get all wrong."</p> + +<div class="backleft" style="background-image: url(images/img94.jpg); height: 100%;" title="It was a ploughed field, and it really was -up-"> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:600px; height:240px;"> </div> +<div class="sandbag-left" style="width:410px; height:250px;"> </div> + + +<p>"I'm sure I remember it," I said, "and I don't see how I <i>could</i> go +wrong if I keep in the same direction."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but it's so easy to get out of the same direction without knowing +it," she said, "once the sun's gone. Now <i>do</i> be careful," and she +repeated a few more warnings.</p> + +<p>I kissed her and ran off gaily. For a while all went well. I had crossed +two lanes and three grass fields when I found myself for the first time +at a loss. Was I to go straight through the gate facing the one I had +come out by, or go a little way down the lane? Was this the place to +look out for the hawthorn bush? If so, there was no hawthorn bush here, +so I decided to go down the lane a little. It seemed a good way before I +came to a gate, and when I did, there was no bush or tree of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> any kind. +But I felt sure that up this field was in the right line, so on I went. +It was a ploughed field and it really was "up," for it sloped rather +steeply. Oh how tired I was when I got to the top! But now I thought all +my troubles were over—I had only to go a quarter of a mile along the +lane, to reach our own back entrance to the stables.</p></div> + + +<p>"What a good thing I am so near home," I thought, as I became aware that +almost in a moment a thick grey mist had risen—all around was bathed in +it, and I ran on as fast as I could.</p> + +<p>The mist now and then cleared a little, but the night was falling fast +and I saw no sign of the white gates I was looking for. I ran the +faster—but the hedges remained unbroken, and after a while I was forced +to own to myself that somehow or other I had <i>got into the wrong lane</i>! +Oh dear! I dared not turn back—I just ran on, and the mist grew thicker +again. I soon got so tired, that the temptation was strong to sit down +at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> all costs. And if I had done so I might have fainted or fallen +asleep, and not perhaps been found till too late!</p> + +<p>It was a dreadful feeling—after a while I think I began to get rather +dazed and stupefied, from fatigue and anxiety. I had only just a sort of +instinct that at all costs I <i>must</i> keep going.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 355px;"> +<img src="images/img95.jpg" width="355" height="550" alt="I was not half-a-mile from the Hall!" title="" /> + +</div> + +<p>"The lane must lead to somewhere," I said to myself, though really it +seemed as if it was endless. I must have been running, or half running +and sometimes walking for nearly an hour when at last—the mist having +cleared a little—I saw a light in front, a little to one side. It +seemed to bob up and down as I ran—the lane was uneven just here, and +once or twice I was afraid it had gone. But no—there it was again, and +to my joy I found it came from a cottage window across a field to the +right.</p> + +<p>"I shall find I am miles and miles from home," I thought, and just fancy +my surprise when I knocked at the door and asked my way, to be told that +I was not half-a-mile from the hall."</p> + +<p>I had gone thoroughly wrong almost from the first, and the long lane +skirted the fields away up on higher ground behind our house as it were, +where I had had no business to be at all.</p> + +<p>They were just sallying out with lanterns to look for me, but they never +would have thought of that lane, and there I might easily have been left +all night if my strength had really failed.</p> + +<p>Oh how glad I was to change my damp clothes and to have a nice hot cup +of tea in my mother's room beside the fire!</p> + +<p>Since then I have never boasted about being sure to find my way.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<p class="center">EDMUND EVANS, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, RACQUET COURT, FLEET STREET,<br /> +LONDON, E.C.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, by +Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + +***** This file should be named 30547-h.htm or 30547-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/4/30547/ + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.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. 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+++ b/30547.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2329 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, by +Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +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 Thirteen Little Black Pigs + and Other Stories + +Author: Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +Illustrator: W. J. Morgan + +Release Date: November 26, 2009 [EBook #30547] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + + + + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net" + + + + + + + + + + + + +THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS + +_AND OTHER STORIES_. + + +[Illustration: The THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS + +AND OTHER STORIES + +BY + +MRS MOLESWORTH + +ILLUSTRATED BY W. J. MORGAN + +LONDON + +Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge + +NEW. YORK. E & J. B. Young & Co] + +LONDON: + +ENGRAVED AND PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS, + +RACQUET-CT., FLEET-ST., E.C. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + + THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS 7 + + RIGHT HAND AND LEFT 29 + + A SHILLING OF HALFPENCE 38 + + A FRIEND IN NEED 46 + + PANSY'S PANSY 54 + + PET'S HALF-CROWN 76 + + A CATAPULT STORY 83 + + A VERY LONG LANE; OR, LOST IN THE MIST 90 + + + + +[Illustration] + + THE THIRTEEN + LITTLE + BLACK PIGS + + +CHAPTER. I + +The house stood on rising ground, and the nursery was at the top of the +house--except of course for the attics above--so there was a good view +from the two large windows. This was a great comfort to the children +during the weeks they were busy getting better from a long, very long, +illness, or illnesses. For they had been so unwise as to get measles, +and scarlet fever, and something else--I am not sure if it was +whooping-cough or chicken-pox--all mixed up together! Don't you think +they might have been content with one at a time? Their mamma thought so, +and the doctor thought so, and most of all, perhaps, nurse thought so. + +But when they began to get really better, they themselves weren't so +sure about it. Maxie said to Dolly that he really thought it was rather +clever to have finished up all the illnesses at once, and Dolly agreed +with him, adding that their cousins had been nearly as long "with _only_ +measles." But nurse, who heard what they were saying, reminded them that +instead of them "finishing up the illnesses," as Master Max said, it +might have been the illnesses finishing _them_ up. Which was true +enough, and made Max, who was the older of the two, look rather grave. + +And then the getting better was _very_ long, especially as it was early +spring, and there were lots of damp and chilly days still, and for weeks +and weeks there was no talk or thought of their going out, and it was +very difficult indeed not to get tired of the toys and games their +mother provided for them, and _even_ of her very nicest stories. +Besides, a mamma cannot go on telling stories all day, however sorry she +is for her little invalids, and however well she understands that when +people, little or big, have been ill and are still feeling weak, and +"unlike themselves," it is very, _very_ difficult not to be discontented +and quarrelsome. So but for the nursery windows I don't quite know what +the children would have done sometimes. + +The windows both looked out at the same side, which was a good thing in +some ways and a bad thing in others. Each child had a special one, and +as Dolly said to Maxie, "if yours had been at the back, you could have +told me stories of what you saw, and I could have told you stories of +what I saw." + +"It couldn't have looked out at the back," said Max, who was more of an +architect than his sister, for he was two years older, "for it's there +the nursery's joined on to the house. It could only have looked to the +side, and the side's very stupid--just shrubs and beds, nothing to see +except the gardeners sometimes, and p'r'aps there'd have been a scroodgy +bit of seeing round to the front, so I'd rather have it as it is. +Indeed, if there had been one at the side, I wouldn't have had it for my +window at all." + +[Illustration: "it was very difficult indeed not to get tired of the +toys & games"] + +"You'd have had to," said Dolly, her voice sounding rather "peepy," +"'cos I'm a girl, and I _hope_ you're a gentleman." + +"I'm the eldest," said Max, "and that always counts. Stuff about being a +gentleman; the Prince of Wales won't give up being king to let his +sister be queen, will he?" + +This was rather a poser. + +"Papa says," Dolly began, but she stopped suddenly. "Oh Maxie," she +went on, in _quite_ a different tone of voice, "what _is_ coming into +Farmer Wilder's field? It isn't turkeys this time. Oh, Maxie, what can +it be?" + +[Illustration: There's only twelve.] + +For they were both at their posts, though for the last few minutes Max +had not been giving much attention to the outside world, and I rather +fancy too, that Dolly's eyes were quicker than his. + +He turned to the window now--it _was_ a very nice look-out certainly, at +that side of the house. First there was their own lawn, which the +gardeners were now busy "machining," as the children called it, and +skirting it at the right the broad terrace walk where the dogs loved to +follow their father as he walked up and down, often reading as he went. +Then on the left there were the "houses," where there was always some +bustle of washing the glass or moving the pots, or watering or +_something_ going on. And though hidden from the view of the front of +the house, there was, farther back, a path to the poultry-yard, where +two or three times a day their mamma's pet beauties were fed, and the +noise and chatter of the pretty feathered creatures could be heard even +through the closed nursery windows. For this was not the big +poultry-yard, but their mother's own particular one. And most +interesting of all, perhaps, further off beyond the lawn, divided from +it by a "ha-ha," there was the great field let to Farmer Wilder, where +all sorts of creatures were to be seen in their turn; sometimes cattle, +sometimes sheep, sometimes only two or three quiet old horses. There had +been nothing but horses there lately--not since the turkeys had been +taken away--so it was no wonder that Dolly's eyes were caught by the +sight of a sudden arrival of new-comers. + +[Illustration: "There are thirteen"] + +There they came--rushing, scrambling, tumbling over each other--one, +two, three--no, it was impossible to count them as yet--they were just a +mass of rolling jerking black specks against the green grass, and for a +minute or two, the children stared and gazed and wondered, in complete +silence. + +What could they be? + +"Are they little bears?" Dolly was on the point of saying, only she +stopped short for fear of Maxie's laughing at her, as he had done that +time when they were staying at their grandmamma's in London, and she had +asked if it was rabbits that had nibbled the crocuses in the square +gardens. + +"Rabbits in London!" said Max, with lordly contempt. "What a baby you +are, Dolly!" + +Dolly had never forgotten it; she hated being called "a baby" in that +tone, and very likely Max would laugh even more if she asked if these +strange visitors were little bears. + +[Illustration] + +So she waited. Then said her brother in his grand, big man tone, as if +he had known it all the time, which he hadn't-- + +"They're pigs--just little black pigs of course. Can't you see their +curly tails, Dolly?" + +"Yes," said Dolly in rather a disappointed tone, "I can, now I know +they're pigs. But I thought that they were something curiouser than +pigs--though," and her voice grew more cheerful again, "I never saw +quite _black_ pigs before, did you, Maxie? What makes them black, I +wonder?" + +"You've seen black men?" said Max. "Well, it's like that--there's black +men and proper-coloured men, so there's black pigs and proper-coloured +pigs." + +"But black men are painted black. Christy minstrel men are, I know, for +nurse told me so when I was frightened of them. And _pigs_ couldn't +paint themselves black. But oh, Max," she broke off, "do look how +they're running and jumping now. They're all over the field. One, two, +three, four--there's _thirteen_ of them, Maxie." + +"No," said Max, after a moment or two's silence, "there's only twelve." + +Dolly counted again--it was not very easy, I must allow. But she stuck +to it. + +"There are _thirteen_," she repeated. + +Two could play at that game. + +"There are _twelve_, I tell you, you silly," said Max, without taking +the trouble to count them again as carefully as Dolly had done. + + + + +[Illustration: call it twelve and a half and split the difference] + +CHAPTER II + + +"There are _thirteen_," repeated Dolly again. "Look, Max, begin at the +side of the field nearest the gate--there are three close together, and +then--oh dear, two have run back to the others, and--no, I can't count +aloud, but I'm sure--" and she went on to herself, "one, two, three, +four,"--"there _are_ thirteen, I'm as sure as sure." + +"And _I'm_ as sure as sure, or surer than sure, that there are only +twelve," said Max, aggravatingly. + +"Master Max and Miss Dorothy, come to your tea," said nurse's voice from +the table. "And it's getting chilly--the evenings aren't like the middle +of the day--you mustn't stand at the windows any more. It's draughty, +and it would never do for you to be getting stiff necks or swollen +glands or anything like that on the top of all there's been." + +The two came slowly to the tea-table, but their looks were not very +amiable. + +"You're so rude," said Dolly to her brother, "contradicting like that. I +never saw anybody so _persisting_." + +"How can you help persisting when you know you're right?" said Max. "I +can't tell _stories_ to please you." + +But I must say his tone was more good-natured than Dolly's. + +"Well," said she, "can _I_ tell stories to please _you_? I _know_ there +are thirteen." + +"And I _know_ there are only twelve," retorted Max, more doggedly. + +After that they did not speak to each other all through tea-time. Nurse, +who often complained of the chatter-chatter "going through her head," +should have been pleased at the unusual quiet, but somehow she wasn't. +She had a kind heart, and she did not like to see the little couple +looking gloomy and cross. + +"Come, cheer up, my dears," she said, "what _does_ it matter? Twelve or +thirteen, though I don't know what it is you were talking about--call it +twelve-and-a-half and split the difference, won't that settle it?" + +It was rather difficult not to smile at this suggestion--the idea of +chopping one of the poor little pigs in two to settle their dispute was +too absurd. But Dolly pinched up her lips; _she_ wasn't going to give +in, and smiling would have been a sort of _beginning_ of giving in, you +see. And Max, to save _him_self from any weakness of the kind, started +whistling, which nurse promptly put a stop to, telling him that +whistling at table was not "manners" at all! + +This did not increase Master Max's good temper, especially as Dolly +looked very virtuous, and as if _her_ "manners" could never call for any +reproof. And a quarter-of-an-hour or so later, when mamma came up to pay +them a little visit, it was very plain to her that there was a screw, +and rather a big screw, loose somewhere in the nursery machinery. For +Max was sitting in one corner pretending to read, and Dolly was sitting +in another corner--the two furthest-off-from-each-other corners they +could possibly find--pretending to sew, and on both little faces the +expression was one which mammas are always very sorry indeed to see. + +But mammas learn by experience to be wise. And all wise people know that +when other people are "upset" or "put out," _or_, to say it quite +plainly, "in a bad temper," it is no use, even though it is rather +difficult not to do so, to go "bang at them," with some such questions +as these: "What _is_ the matter with you?" "What _are_ you looking so +cross about?" "Have you been quarrelling, you tiresome children?" and so +on. Especially if, as these children's mamma just now was clever enough +to find out, the angry feelings are beginning to soften down into +unhappiness, and the first little whisper of "wishing I hadn't been so +cross"--or "so unkind," is faintly making its way into the foolish, +troubled little hearts. At that moment a sharp or severe word is sadly +apt to drown the gentle fairy voice, and to open the door again to all +the noisy, ugly imps of obstinacy and pride and unkind resentment, who +were just _beginning_ to think they had best slink off. + +So this loving and wise--wise because she was loving, and loving because +she was wise!--mother said nothing, except-- + +[Illustration: "I did some knitting"] + +"I am so sorry not to have come up before, dears, but I have been very +busy. Has it been a very dull afternoon for my poor little prisoners?" + +"Not so very," said Dolly, slipping off her seat, and sidling up to her +mother, who had settled herself on the old rocking-chair by the fire, +with a nice comfortable look, as if she were not in a hurry. "Not so +very--we read some stories, and I did six rows of my knitting, and Max +cut out some more paper animals for poor little Billy Stokes--and--then +we went to our windows and began looking out," but here Dolly's voice +dropped suspiciously. + +"Well," said her mother, "that all sounds very nice. But what happened +when you were looking out at your windows?" + +"Nothing _happened_," said Max, slowly. + +"Well--what did you see? And what did you _say_? I can tell from your +faces that things haven't gone cheerfully with you all the +afternoon--now have they?" said mamma. + +"No," Dolly replied eagerly, "they haven't. Only p'r'aps we'd better say +nothing more about it. I don't want it all to begin again. If Max likes +I'll try to forget all about it, and be friends again." + +"I don't mind being friends again," said Max, "I'd rather. But I don't +see how we _can_ forget about it--they're sure to be there again +to-morrow, and then we _couldn't_ forget about them. Oh, I wonder if +they're there still, if it's not too dark to see them," he went on, +suddenly darting to the window. "Then mamma could count them, and that +would settle it." + +"This is very mysterious," said mamma, smiling, "Dolly, you must +explain." + +But Max was back from the window before Dolly could begin, and his first +words were part of the explanation. + +"They're gone in," he said in a disappointed tone, "but I don't know +that it matters much. For it would have been too dark for you to count +them properly, mamma. It was a lot of little pigs, mamma, in Farmer +Wilder's field; little black pigs--twelve of them." + +"_Thirteen_," said Dolly. + +"No, no!" began Max, but he stopped. "That's it, you see, mamma," he +said, in a melancholy tone. + +"That's _what_?" asked mamma. + +"The--the quarrel. Dolly will have it there were thirteen, and I'm sure +there were only twelve." + +[Illustration: Max cut out some paper Animals] + +"And," said Dolly, laughing a little--though I must say I think it was +mischievous of her to have snapped in with that "thirteen"--"nurse heard +about 'twelve' and 'thirteen,' but she didn't know what it was about, so +she asked us if we couldn't split the difference. Fancy splitting up a +poor little pig." + +"There isn't one to split, not a _thirteen_ one," said Max, rather +surlily. + +"Yes there is," retorted Dolly. + +Mamma looked at them both. + +"My dear children," she said. "You really _must_ be at a loss for +something to quarrel about. And after all, you remind me of----" + +"What do we remind you of, mamma?" asked both, eagerly, "something about +when you were a little girl?" + +"No, only of an old story I have heard," said mamma. + +"Oh, do tell it," said Max and Dolly. + +[Illustration: "Oh, do tell it."] + + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER III + + +"It is scarcely a 'story,'" said their mother, "it was only about a +tremendous quarrel there once was in ancient times between some people +as to what colour a certain shield was. One party declared it was black; +the other maintained it was white. Both were ready to swear to the fact, +and I don't know what terrible consequences might not have followed, had +it not suddenly been discovered that--what do you think? Can you guess?" + +Max and Dolly knitted their brows and pondered. But no, they could not +guess. + +"What was it, mamma?" they asked. + +"One side of the shield was black and the other white," said she, with a +quiet little smile, "so both were right and both were wrong." + +The children considered. It was very interesting. + +"But," said Max, "it _couldn't_ be like that with Dolly and me--there +couldn't be thirteen and _not_ be thirteen." + +"No, it is difficult, I own, to see how that could be," said mamma. "But +queer things do happen--there are queer answers to puzzles +now-and-then." + +"I wish it was settled about ours," said Dolly, with a sigh. "I--I don't +like quarrelling with dear Maxie," and she suddenly buried her face in +her mother's lap and began to cry--not loudly, but you could see she was +crying by the way her fat little shoulders quivered and shook. + +This was too much for Max. + +"Dolly," he said, tugging at her till she was obliged to look up, +"_don't_--I can't bear you to be unhappy because of--because of me--do +kiss me, Dolly, and don't let us ever think any more about those stupid +little black pigs." + +So they kissed each other, and it was "all right." + +"But," said Dolly, "I'm so afraid it'll begin again when we see them. +Could papa ask Farmer Wilder to put them somewhere else, mamma? We can't +leave off looking out of our windows, _can_ we?" + +"I think it would be rather a babyish way of keeping from quarrelling, +to ask to have the temptation to quarrel put away," said mamma. +"Besides--it would _have_ to be settled, you see." + +[Illustration: So they kissed each other] + +"Yes, but," said Dolly, "then one of us would have to be wrong, and I'd +rather go on fancying that _somehow_ neither of us was wrong." + +"That's rubbish," said Max, "it _couldn't_ be." + +"Listen," said mamma; "promise me that neither of you will look out of +the window to-morrow morning before you see me. Then if it is really a +fine mild day, the doctor says you may both go a little walk." + +"_Oh_, how nice!" interrupted the little prisoners. "And I will take you +myself," their mother went on. "Immediately after your dinner--about two +o'clock will be the best time. And we will see if we can't settle the +question of the thir--no, I had better not say how many--of the little +black pigs, in a satisfactory way." + +Mamma smiled at the children--her smile was very nice, but there was a +little sparkle of mischief in her eyes too. And _I_ may tell _you_, in +confidence, though she had not said so to Max and Dolly, that that +afternoon she had passed Farmer Wilder's when she was out walking with +their father, and had stood at the gate of the very field which the +children saw from the nursery window, where the little black pigs were +gambolling about. And Farmer Wilder had happened to come by himself, and +he and his landlord--the children's father, you understand--had had a +little talk about pigs in general, and these piglings in particular. And +so mamma knew more about them than Max and Dolly had any idea of. + +_How_ pleased they were when they woke the next morning to think that +they were really going out for a little walk--out into the sweet fresh +air again, after all these weary dreary weeks in the house. And it was +really a very nice day; there was more sunshine than had been seen for +some time, so that at two o'clock the children were all ready--wrapped +up and eager to start when their mother peeped into the nursery to call +them. + +[Illustration] + +At first the feeling of being out again was so delicious it almost +seemed to take away their breath, and they could not think of anything +else. But after a few minutes they quieted down a little, and walked on +with their mother, one at each side. + +"We kept our promise, mamma," said Dolly, "we didn't look out of our +windows at all this morning. Nurse let us look out of the night nursery +one for a little--it's turned the other way, so we couldn't see the +pigs." + +"But we'll _have_ to see them in a minute," said Max, "when we come out +of this path we're close to the gate of the big field, you know, mamma." + +"I know," said mamma, "but I want to turn the other way--down the little +lane, for before we go to the field to look at the pigs, I want to speak +to Farmer Wilder a moment." + +A few minutes brought them to the farm, and just as they came in sight +of it, Mr. Wilder himself appeared, coming towards them. Max and Dolly +started a little when they first saw him; something small and black was +trotting behind him--could it be one of the piglings? Their heads were +full of little black pigs, you see. No, as he came nearer, they found it +was a small black dog--a new one, which they had never seen before. + +"Good morning, Mr. Wilder," said their mother, "that's your new dog--Max +and Dolly have not made acquaintance with him yet. 'Nigger,' you call +him? He's a clever fellow, isn't he?" + +"A bit too clever," replied the farmer. "He's rather too fond of +meddling. Yesterday afternoon he got into the big field where we'd just +turned out all the little black pigs, and he was chasing and hunting +them all the time." + +"They'll not get fat at that rate," said the children's mother, smiling. +"What a lot of them there are--twelve, didn't you say, yesterday?" + +"Yes--a dozen--nice pigs they are too," said the farmer, "perhaps it +would amuse the children to see them--black pigs are rare in these +parts." + +He turned towards the field, Max, Dolly and their mother following. + +"Mamma," said Max, eagerly, "did you hear? There's only twelve." + +"But I saw _thirteen_," said Dolly. + +"Yes," said mamma. "You were right as to the number of pigs, Max, but +Dolly was right as to the number of black creatures she counted, for +Nigger was there. So you were wrong in your _counting_, Max, and Dolly +was wrong in the number of pigs, and so--" + +"Both were right and both were wrong," cried the children together, +"like the people who quarrelled about the shield!" + +"Just fancy!" said Dolly. + +"It _is_ queer!" said Max. + +And when they got to the gate and stood looking at the pigs--I think +Dolly preferred keeping the gate between her and them--they counted +again, and this time there were only twelve! For Nigger was standing +meekly at his master's heels, having been whipped for his misdemeanours +of the day before. + +"Any way, mamma," said Dolly, as they made their way home again after a +pleasant little walk, "it shows how silly it is ever to _quarrel_, +doesn't it?" + +"Yes, it does," Max agreed. + +And you may be sure mamma was _quite_ of the same opinion! + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +Right Hand And Left + + +An old friend had come to see the children's mother. They had not met +for several years, and the visitor was of course interested in seeing +all the little people. + +So mamma rang the bell for all five to come down from the nursery. Lily +and Belle, being the two eldest, came first. Lily was eleven, Belle's +ninth birthday was just passed. They were followed by their two +brothers, Basil and George, who were only seven and five, and Baby +Barbara, a young lady of two. They were a pleasant-looking little +party, and their kind-faced new friend asked many questions about them, +as each was introduced to her by name. + +The children did not care very much for her remarks as to whom each of +them was like, for she spoke of relations most of them were too young to +remember, or had scarcely ever heard of, as she was an elderly lady. + +But the two older girls at least, listened with all their ears to one or +two little things their own dear mother herself said about them. + +"Lily," she said, as she drew forward the fair-haired little girl, "is +already quite my right hand." + +Lily's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but Belle grew rather red, and +turned away. She was not the least like Lily, her hair was dark and cut +short round her head, for she had had a bad illness not long ago. + +The stranger lady had quick eyes. + +"And Belle?" she said, kindly. "You can't have two right hands of +course. But I've no doubt she is a helpful little woman too, in her +way." + +"Oh, yes!" said her mother, "she is. And she is getting on well with her +lessons again, in spite of having been so put back last year." + +"And," said the old lady--who had noticed the rather sullen look on +Belle's little brown face--"I hope the two sisters love each other +dearly, besides being a pair of extra hands to their mother." + +Lily smiled back in reply. + +"Yes," she said, "I am sure we do." + +[Illustration: They were a pleasant-looking little party] + +Soon after, their mother sent them all upstairs again. Nurse had come +down to fetch Baby, and the two boys trotted off together. Lily took +Belle's hand as they got to the foot of the stairs. + +"Isn't she a nice lady?" she said, for Lily was feeling very pleased +just then with herself and everybody else--I must say she was very +seldom a cross little girl, but she was perhaps rather too inclined to +be pleased with herself--"and didn't you like," she went on, "what mamma +said of us two, to her?" + +"No," said Belle, roughly, pulling herself away from her sister. "I +don't want to be counted a clumsy, stupid, left hand. I don't wonder +you're pleased, you always get praised." + +"Oh, Belle!" said Lily. "I really don't think you need be so cross about +it. You know you're younger than I." + +But Belle would not answer, and all the rest of the afternoon she +remained very silent and gloomy, looking, to tell the truth, as if that +strange invisible little "black dog," that we have all heard of, I +think, had seated himself comfortably upon her shoulders, with no +intention of getting off again in a hurry. + +It was a fine summer's day, almost too hot indeed, so the children had +tea early and went out a walk afterwards, returning in time to spend +half-an-hour with their mother, before she went to dress for dinner. + +This half-hour was generally a very happy time for all the children. But +to-day one little face was less bright than usual, and mamma's eyes were +not slow to notice it, though she said nothing. + +When the three little ones had gone off to bed, their mother glanced at +the two elder girls. + +"You are quite ready, I see, for coming into the drawing-room before +dinner," she said. + +[Illustration: "No", said Belle, roughly"----] + +"Yes, mamma," Lily replied, "all except washing our hands. They do get +so quickly dirty in this hot weather, if we romp about at all." + +"Then I think you might practise a little, papa likes to see one of you +in the drawing-room when he comes in, and to-night Belle shall be with +me while I'm dressing." + +"Very well, mamma dear," said Lily, running off as cheerfully as usual. +Being with their mother when she was dressing was a great treat, it +didn't happen every night, and the little girls took it in turns. This +evening I don't think Lily was at all sorry to be without her sister's +company, for the little black dog, or at least his shadow, was still on +Belle's shoulders. + +Belle sat quietly in a corner of the room, her mother said very little +to her, not even when Collins, the maid, had gone. + +"You must wash your hands, I think, before coming down to the +drawing-room," she said at last, as she poured some nice warm water into +a pretty little basin with rose-buds round the edge, which the children +admired very much. + +"Thank you, mamma," said Belle, brightening up a little, "and may I use +your beautiful pink scented soap, please?" + +"Certainly dear," said her mother, and Belle set to work to wash her +little brown hands, which, it must be confessed, were decidedly in need +of it. + +Rather to her surprise, her mother stood beside her looking on. + +"Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, mamma?" asked the +little girl. + +[Illustration: "Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, +mamma?"] + +"No, dear, I'm sure you will do that. I was wondering if it has ever +struck you how prettily and kindly your little hands behave to each +other. Right hand is the cleverest and quickest, of course, but left +hand is always willing and ready too. They take care not to hurt or +scratch each other, and if by chance one is ever hurt, the other is as +tender as possible not to rub or touch the sore place." + +Belle went on washing her hands, or rather bathing them in the water, +for by this time they were quite clean. She looked at them as she did +so, but she did not speak. + +"And another thing," said her mother, "take one out of the water, and +see how helpless the other is, even clever right hand can do very little +without her sister, and it is the same in all the work you do, one hand +would be very little use without the other." + +Belle's face grew rosy. + +"Mamma dear," she said, as her hands wiped each other dry on the nice +soft towel, "I know what you mean. You're like a fairy, mamma, you can +see into my heart. I didn't like that lady thinking Lily was your right +hand, and me no good to you. It made me feel as if I didn't love Lily." + +"But nobody said you were no good, Belle dear. You made that up in your +own silly little head. For you know even though Lily is older, you can +still help me a great deal, and even help her to help me," said her +mother. + +"Like as if you were the head, and we your two hands," answered Belle. +"Well, mamma, I won't mind now even if you count me only your left hand, +and I'll always remember what you've said." + +She kissed her mother, quite happy now, and when they were going to bed +that night she told Lily all about it. + +"I am afraid," said Lily, looking sorry, "that I was too proud of what +mamma said of me. But if each of us is always as kind to the other as +right hand is to left hand, and left hand to right hand, it will be all +right, won't it dear?" + + + + +[Illustration] + +A.SHILLING OF HALFPENCE + + +She was a lonely little old lady. She was one of those who had "seen +better days," as it is called. I am afraid there are a great many people +in the world of whom this can be said, and the saddest part of it is +that they are very, very often, _old_ people. + +It is sad to see anyone in want even of comforts, and still more of +really needful things, but I think it is worst of all to see very old or +very young folk deprived of what they should have. Middle-aged men and +women seem more fit for the battle of life than those who are already +tired by what they have come through, or those who have not yet got to +their full strength and courage. + +My little old lady was not what is commonly counted _very_ poor. She had +enough to eat--certainly her appetite was small--and enough to pay the +rent of the two neat little rooms, furnished with what she had been able +to keep of her own old furniture, which had once stood in a very +different kind of house; and enough, with _great_ care, to dress herself +nicely; and, what she considered quite as important as any of these +things, she managed to have enough to give her mite of help to those +still poorer and more closely pressed than herself. + +[Illustration: Billy] + +How I got to know her I am not at liberty to say. But I will tell you +about the first time I ever saw her and _him_, the other person of this +little story. + +It was a cold, but for a wonder in London in the winter, a bright and +dry morning. All the better, you will say--of course everybody must like +nice clean streets and pavements much more than sloppy rain and mud. But +no; not quite _everybody_. Think of the crossing-sweepers! Dirty, muddy +days are their harvest-time, especially Sundays, when in the better +parts of the town there are so many more rich and well-to-do foot +passengers than on other days. It was a real disappointment, and worse +than a disappointment--a real serious trouble to little Billy Harding, +when, after the best breakfast his poor mother could give him--and that +isn't saying very much--he hurried downstairs from the attic which was +his home, brush in hand, to find the pavements dry as a bone, and the +roads almost _clean_! + +"I made sure it were going to rain beautiful," he said to himself, +dolefully, "it looked so uncommon like it, last night." + +But the wind had veered round to the east while Billy was fast asleep, +and as everybody knows, the east wind, which "is neither good for man +nor beast," hasn't _even_ the good quality of bringing profitably dirty +streets for the poor crossing-sweepers. + +There was nothing for it but to go to his post, however, and there it +was I saw him that same cold, dry, clean Sunday morning, when I myself +was on my way to church. Very likely I should never have noticed _him_, +nor _her_ either, if I had met them separately, but it was the seeing +them standing together, talking earnestly, that caught my attention, and +the anxious, rather troubled expression on the little old lady's face, +and the bright eager look on the boy's, made me wonder what it was all +about. A dreadful idea crossed my mind for an instant--could he be a +naughty boy? had he possibly been trying to pick the old lady's pocket, +and was she talking to him in hopes of making him repentant, as is +sometimes the way with tender-hearted old ladies, instead of giving him +in charge to a policeman? (Not that there was any policeman in view!) +But another instant made me feel ashamed of the thought--a second +glance at the boy's honest face was enough. + +Now I will tell you what had happened; how I came to know it does not +matter. + +[Illustration: "Thank you, ma'am,"] + +I told you my little old lady always managed to give away something to +others. One of her habits was to put one shilling into the box in the +church porch "for the poor of the parish," the first Sunday of every +month, and if you knew how _very_ little she had to live on, you would +agree with me that this shilling, which was not her only charity, was a +_good deal_. The morning I am writing of was the first Sunday of the +month, and as she set off for church she held in her thin old fingers +inside her well-worn muff two coins--a shilling and a halfpenny, the +halfpenny being intended for the first crossing-sweeper she met on her +way. This was another of her little customs. She had some way to go to +church, and she did not always choose the same streets, so she had no +special pet crossing-sweeper, and this morning it was Billy into whose +hand she dropped the coin she was holding in her tremulous fingers. + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Billy, tugging at his ragged cap with the same +hand in which he had received the money, for he had his brush in the +other, and he was anxious to show his gratitude. It was his first +receipt that morning! + +"Poor boy," thought the old lady, "he does look cold. I wish I could +have made it a penny." + +But the kind wish had scarcely crossed her mind before she heard a voice +beside her. + +"Please ma'am," it said, "do you know what you give me just now?" + +And Billy, red with running, held out a very unmistakeable _shilling_! + +The old lady gasped, and drew out the coin she was firmly clasping in +her muff. It was a rather extra worn halfpenny! + +[Illustration: "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU GIVE ME JUST NOW?"] + +"Oh, my good boy!" she began, but Billy interrupted her. He saw at once +how it was. And if he gave a little sigh, can you wonder? It _would_ +have been "jolly," if she had replied, "All right, my boy. I meant it +for you," and as he had run after her he had thought it _might_ be so. +For Billy was wise in some things, as the poor learn to be. He knew that +it is not by any means those who have most to give who give most. + +But a glance at the troubled old face told him the truth. + +"All right, ma'am," he said again. "'Twas a mistake. Mistakes will +happen," and he dropped the silver piece back into her hand. + +"Take the halfpenny at least, my boy," said she. "It was very good, very +good indeed of you to tell me of my mistake. If it was money I could +spare on myself--but--it is my rule to give this once a month at church, +and--I could not make it up again." + +"All right, ma'am," Billy repeated for the third time, anxious to be off +before the old lady could hear the choke of disappointment in his voice. + +(It was just then I passed them.) + +"But I'll tell you what I'll do," she went on, brightening up. "I'll pay +you the shilling in halfpence, every week. I'm sure I can manage that. +So you look out for me each Sunday morning, and I'll have it ready," and +off she trotted, quite happy at having thus settled the difficulty. "I +shouldn't feel _honest_" she said to herself, "if I didn't make it up to +him after really _giving_ it to him. And a halfpenny a week even I can +manage extra." + +For of course Billy's halfpenny was not to interfere with her regular +Sunday morning's dole to the first crossing-sweeper she met. + +I think she was right. I am sure that the halfpennies he received so +regularly till what she thought her debt to him was paid, helped to make +and keep Billy Harding as honest as a man as he had been as a child. + +The next winter saw no little old lady trotting along to church in the +cold. She went away for her treat of the year--a fortnight in the +country; but she fell ill the very day she came back, and never was able +to go out again. It fell to my share--she asked me to do it--to tell the +little crossing-sweeper when she died, and to give him a small present +she had left him. He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes--he didn't want +me to see he was crying. + +"'Twill seem quite strange-like never to see her no more," he said. "I +were just beginning to wonder when she'd be back. Twenty-four Sundays +and she never missed, wet or dry! I'd have liked her to know I goes too, +reg'lar, to church in the afternoons as she wanted me to." + +And for his own sake, as well as for the dear old lady's, I never lost +sight of poor Billy from that time. + + + + +[Illustration] + +A + +FRIEND IN NEED + + +Laurence was a little English boy, though he lived in Paris. He had +several older brothers and sisters, but none near him in age. So he was +often rather lonely, for he was only six years old, and too young to do +many lessons. Half-an-hour in the morning and half-an-hour in the +afternoon made up his school time, though of course his next brother and +sister, who were twelve and thirteen years old, had to do a great deal +more than that. + +I daresay they would not have minded doing a little _less_. I know they +were always very pleased to have a holiday, or even a half-holiday, and +in the evenings when their lessons were done they were very kind and +ready to play with their little brother. + +Laurence had a German nursery-maid. She was a good girl, but not very +lively or quick, and she could not speak either French or English. When +she first came to take care of Laurence he only knew a very few words of +German, so you can imagine that his walks with Emma, as she was called, +were not very amusing. But after a while Laurence got on with his +German, much faster than Emma did with either French or English, which +of course was as it should be, seeing that she had come on purpose to +teach him her language. And then he and his nurse became very good +friends in a quiet way. For he was rather an unusually quiet little boy, +and he thought a great deal more than he spoke. + +Still he _did_ sometimes wish he had a brother or sister near his own +age. It did not seem quite fair that he should be so alone in the +family. Hugh and Isabel were such nice friends for each other, and so +were the two still older sisters and the big brother of all, who was +called Robert. Now and then when little Laurence was trotting along the +street by Emma's side he would look with envy at other children, two and +three together, and wish that one of them "belonged" to him. + +But there were others alone, even more alone than he was. This he found +out before long. At the corner of the "Avenue" where he lived, there +was a large house opening into a court-yard, like all large houses in +Paris, and just inside this court-yard Laurence often saw a little girl +not much bigger than he was, always playing about by herself. She was +the daughter of the "_concierge_," or porter, who took care of the big +house, and though she was neat and tidy she was not at all a rich little +girl. For though the house was a big one, it was not lived in by rich +people, and the _concierge_ and his wife and little girl had only two +small rooms for their home. + +Laurence did not know the little girl's name, but in his own fancy he +called her "Gay." She always looked so bright and happy. And after a +while the two children began to smile at each other as if they were +friends, and sometimes Gay would call out, "Good morning, Sir. What a +nice day!" or some little speech like that, to which Laurence would +reply, "Good morning, Miss," like a little gentleman, lifting his cap as +he spoke. Of course these remarks were made in French. In English they +do sound rather odd, I must allow. + +One day Laurence and Emma set off for rather a long walk. It was the day +before Isabel's birthday, and he wanted to buy a present for her at one +of the very large shops. He was not sure what the present was to be, but +he _thought_ that he would choose a pincushion, as he had seen some very +pretty little fancy chairs and sofas not long ago at this same big shop, +which Emma told him were pincushions. He knew exactly what part of the +shop to go to, and he had his money--a whole franc--that is about +tenpence of English money, in his little purse safe in his pocket. + +They reached the shop without any adventure or misadventure, and soon +Laurence, holding the maid's hand, was walking slowly past the counters +or tables where lots of tempting pretty things were displayed. It was +some time before they found the particular table where the fairy-like +furniture was laid out. But at last Laurence gave a little cry of joy. + +[Illustration] + +"There they are, Emma," he said in German, "the dear little armchairs +and sofas and ottomans--blue and rose and white, and all with gold backs +and legs. Now which would Isabel like?" + +It was a great question, but at last they decided on a rose-coloured +arm-chair. The price he was sure was all right, as Emma had seen that +the things were all marked one franc. But alas, when the shopman gave +Laurence the little paper bill, and the boy as proud as possible went to +the desk where it was to be paid, the clerk held out his hand,-- + +[Illustration] + +"Five centimes more, if you please--one sou." + +A sou is about the same as an English halfpenny, and it is often called +a "five centime piece"--for there are ten centimes in each _two_-sous +piece, just as there are four farthings in one English penny. + +[Illustration] + +"Another sou?" said Laurence. "But I have not got one. Emma, have you +got one?" + +Emma had nothing at all in her pocket. It was stupid of her, but she had +not thought of bringing her purse. However it was so little, and she +began asking the clerk in her very bad French, mixed with German words, +to let the little gentleman have the pincushion for a franc. + +The clerk shook his head. + +"At least," said poor Laurence, "let me have it now and I will bring the +sou to-morrow, or my mamma will send it." + +Again the man shook his head. Perhaps he was in a bad temper, perhaps he +did not feel the more good-natured because he may have thought the boy +and his nurse were German. For at that time the French nation did not +love Germans. Let us hope they have learnt better since. + +"Pass on, sir," he said sharply, "you are blocking the way," and the +people standing round began to laugh. The tears rose to the little boy's +eyes. + +"Oh! what shall I do?" he cried, "and to-morrow is Isabel's birthday." + +Then came a little voice beside him. + +"Sir--may I offer it? Will you accept this sou from me?" and a small +hand held out the coin. It was little Gay. + +"Oh thank you, thank you," exclaimed Laurence joyfully, and the grim +clerk received the sou and the parcel was handed to him. + +How he thanked the kind little girl! She was there with her mother, and +while the good woman was choosing an umbrella at a stand close by, Gay, +as I must still call her, had noticed her little friend and wondered +what he was in difficulty about. And of all the people near him in the +shop, she alone had the kind thought of offering him the sou. + +I need not tell you that after this the good little girl was looked upon +by Laurence as quite a friend. He went with Emma the next morning to pay +back the five centime piece, and when New Year's Day came, a pretty +present for Gabrielle, which was her real name, was one of the gifts +which Laurence and his mother had the greatest pleasure in choosing. + +Was it not nice that the little girl was called "Gabrielle," for +Laurence was able to go on calling her "Gay," as it made such a good +short name for the real one. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PANSY. + +THE FLOWER MARKET + +PART I. + + +There was a flower-market once a week in the town of Northclough. + +It was every Thursday, the regular market-day, when the country people +came in to sell and to buy. But Northclough was not a pretty, +old-fashioned country town, such as you would very likely fancy from the +mention of markets and country folk. Once, long ago, it had been a +village, a rather lonely and out-of-the-way village, though never a +pretty one. For it was up in the north, as its name tells, in a bare and +cold part of the world, where the grass is never very brightly green, +and the skies much more often grey than blue. + +[Illustration: "The Nurse"] + +And now, as far as looks go, any way, it had changed from bad to worse. +The village had grown into a smoky town, where there were lots of high +chimneys, and constant sounds of machinery booming away, and railway +trains shrieking and whistling in and out of the stations. There was no +longer any ivy on the old church, which the oldest people could remember +almost buried in it. And the new churches which had been built since, +already looked old themselves--no stones could keep clean or fresh in +such smoky grimy air. + +But some of the old customs still lingered on, and one was the weekly +market, which was held just outside the old church walls--the walls of +the church-yard, I should say--every Thursday, just as it had been since +the village first grew into a small market town, more than a hundred +years ago. And what some people would have done without the pleasure and +amusement of this market, I should be afraid to say. I mean some +_little_ people, the children of the vicar, who lived with their parents +in a grey old house, as grey and old as the church itself, which stood +at one side of the market place. + +It was grey and grim outside, but inside the father and mother made it +as bright and cheery as they could. In winter I think they managed this +better than in summer, for good blazing fires do a great deal, +especially of an evening when the curtains are drawn and the cold north +wind, howling and blustering outside as if in a rage at not being able +to get in, only makes the house seem still cosier. And one of the good +things about the north is that coals are cheap and plentiful, so that +though the vicar was not rich, there was no need to go without +comfortable fires. + +[Illustration: "There were four of them."] + +But in summer it was sometimes _not_ easy to make the old house look +cheerful. Very little sunshine could get in, for on two sides the +neighbouring houses almost shut out the light. And the sun had hard +work, persevering though he is, to get through the murky air--murky even +in summer--that hangs like a curtain over what is called a +"manufacturing town." Then there was no garden of any kind, as the new +schools had been built on what was once the vicarage lawn, though after +all I hardly think a garden would have been much good, and perhaps the +children's nurse was right when she said: + +"Better without it, 'twould only have been a trap for more soots and +smuts, and it's hard enough to keep the pinafores clean for half-an-hour +together as it is." + +Nurse had come with their mother from the south, and she didn't take +kindly to the greyness, and the smokiness, and the grimness at all. But +she took very kindly to the babies, which was after all of more +consequence. + +There were four of them--they were "leaving off being babies" now, as +little Ruth, the youngest but one, said indignantly, when some one spoke +of her and Charlie in that disrespectful way. "Charlie's three and I'm +four, and Pansy's nearly six, and Bob's seven past." + +That was Ruth's description of the family, and I think it will do very +well, though some people might say it began at the wrong end. + +And these were the little people who would have been badly off without +the weekly market, which they looked forward to as the "next best" treat +to having tea in the dining-room on Saturday evenings with mamma. + +Their nursery windows overlooked the market place. The nurseries were +the brightest rooms in the house, and as it was a large house, whatever +its faults in other ways, there were three of them. The day nursery in +the middle and a large bedroom on one side, and on the other a small one +which was beginning to be called "Miss Pansy's room." And on Thursdays +Pansy's room was in great request, as from _its_ window one had the +best view of all of the market, especially of the corner where the +flowers were. + +[Illustration: PANSY'S WINDOW WAS IN GREAT REQUEST] + +There was always _something_ to be seen on the flower-stalls, even in +winter, when there was nothing else there were evergreens, holly and +mistletoe of course, in plenty, as Christmas came on. And though some +other parts of the market might be more amusing and exciting, where the +cocks and hens, and geese and ducks, were all to be heard gabbling, and +quacking and clucking and crowing, for instance; or the railed-in place +where there were generally a few calves or poor little frightened sheep +bleating and baa-ing, yet the little girl's first thought was always +the flower corner. First thing on Thursday morning, sometimes before it +was light, she would lie wondering what sort of dear little plants there +would be _this_ week, and hoping it would be a fine day, so that nurse +would let her poke her head out through the bars a tiny bit, so as to +see better, without calling to her that she would catch cold. + +Pansy's birthday was in May--she was going to be six. She liked having a +birthday because mamma always invited herself to tea in the nursery, and +if it happened to be one of papa's not very busiest days, he would +sometimes join them too. That _was_ delightful. + +Generally she got two or three simple presents, and always one very good +and valuable one from her godmother. But strange to say this handsome +present never pleased her half so much as the little trifling ones. Her +godmother was kind, but she was old and unused to children, and she had +not seen Pansy since she was very tiny, so her thought was more perhaps +about helping Pansy's mother than pleasing Pansy herself. And so the +present was sure to be a new frock--or stuff to make one with, or a nice +jacket, or even once--that was _rather_ a funny present for a little +girl, I think--a new set of china tea-cups and saucers and plates and +milk jugs and everything complete for a nursery tea-service. + +But "to make up" for godmother's presents being so very "useful," +Pansy's mother always gave her something pretty and pleasant, a doll, or +some doll's furniture, or picture books or some nice ornament for her +room. Any little girl of six or seven can easily fancy the kind of +presents I mean. + +This sixth birthday, however, was going to be rather different. For on +this day the godmother thought it was time to give Pansy a present of +another kind. What that was, I will tell you in the next part. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PRESENTS. + +PART II. + + +The birthday was on a Wednesday. And though it was only May the weather +for a wonder was mild and sunny. Northclough for once was looking almost +bright. + +"It _is_ nice for you to have such a fine day to be six years old on, +Miss Pansy dear," said nurse, when she came in to wake up the two little +sisters and to give her own birthday present of a neat little pincushion +for Pansy's toilet table. And the boys had something for her too, at +least it was called "the boys'," to please Charley, though in reality it +was Bob who had bought it, or the things to make "it" with. For the "it" +was a little blotting-book covered outside with thick cardboard on +which pretty pictures were pasted. It was very cleverly made, for Bob +was wonderfully neat-handed for such a little boy, and it had taken +quite a lot of contrivance to get it done without his sister's finding +out about it. And Ruth's present was a pen-wiper. + +Pansy _was_ pleased. + +"I can write to godmother now without having to ask mamma to lend me her +writing-case," she said. "I suppose," she went on, "I shall have to +write to her to-day; there's sure to be a useful present come from her," +and Pansy sighed a little, for the writing to godmother was the one part +of her birthday she did _not_ enjoy. + +Nurse could not help smiling at what she would have called Miss Pansy's +"old-fashioned" way of speaking. She always talked of godmother's +"useful presents," because she had so often been told that frocks and +jackets and so on were such nice, useful gifts. And perhaps I should +have mentioned before, that godmother did not forget the little people +at Northclough Vicarage at Christmas, something useful was sure to come +then, for she was great aunt to them all as well as godmother to one. + +But before nurse had time to speak, the door opened and the children's +mother came in. They were at breakfast in the day nursery by this time. +She had a bright smile on her face and a small parcel in her hand. + +"Good morning, darlings, to you all," she said, "and many, many happy +returns to my Pansy. Papa told me to kiss you for him too, he won't be +in till dinner-time I'm afraid. There now, a kiss for him and one for +myself," Pansy was in her mother's arms long before this, "_and_ a +present from godmother." + +Mamma sat down on the nursery rocking-chair as she spoke, and laid the +parcel on her knee, and Pansy, stooping down beside her, began to undo +the string which fastened it. + +"Is it not a useful present this time, mamma?" she asked, for certainly +it did not look like a hat or a frock, or a hamper of china. + +"I hope you will think it so," said her mother smiling, "and pretty +too." + +"A _book_," exclaimed the little girl, "and oh, yes, it _is_ a very +pretty one. And oh, mamma, it's _two_ books, in a 'loverly'"--Pansy +still said some words rather funnily--"case, all red leather, and, oh! +my own name, 'Pansy,' _how_ nice! What can they be? A prayer-book and a +hymn-book, with such beautiful big letters, and 'reds' in the +prayer-book. How I wish it was Sunday, for me to take them to church." + +She was truly delighted--her little face all rosy with pleasure. Mamma +could not resist giving her another kiss. + +"You will take the greatest care of them, I know, dear," she said. "And +now I have only a very tiny present from papa and me," and she held out +a bright new shilling. "You may buy _anything_ you like with it, dear." + +This was delightful news. What between her pride in her beautiful +"church books," as she called them, and thinking over what her shilling +would buy, the little girl had hard work to eat her breakfast that +morning, even though, in honour of the birthday, it was an extra nice +one. + +[Illustration] + +You will think I am a very long time getting to _the_ "pansy," which +gives its name to this little story, but we are coming to it now. + +There was a great consultation held in Pansy's room, and this was what +the children decided; sixpence should be spent on a pair of ducks to +float in a basin of water attracted by a magnet, a toy which they had +seen in a shop window with the price marked in plain figures. And +sixpence should be spent, for Pansy's own special pleasure, in a flower +growing in a pot, such as they had often seen on the flower-stall below +their windows. The ducks could be bought that very morning, which Pansy +was glad of, as she knew that Bob and Ruth were even more anxious to +have them than she was herself. But for the flower she would have to +wait till the next day. + +[Illustration: "The birthday passed very happily,"] + +However, the birthday passed very happily, and it was very nice to wake +in the morning with the feeling that part of its pleasures were still +to come, and mamma promised to go with her herself to the stall to +choose the flower. + +It was to be a pansy. Not a _quite_ fully blown one, her mother advised +her, for then it would be the sooner over, but one nearly so. There had +been quite a good choice of them for the last week or two; the only +difficulty would be what colour to have. + +"Yellow ones are very pretty," said the little girl as she skipped along +by her mother's side that Thursday morning on their way to the market, +for though it was just below the vicarage windows, you had to make quite +a round to get to it from the front door, "yellow ones, and those browny +ones too are very nice, but I _think_ I like the purple ones best--I +mean the violet-coloured ones--don't you mamma?" + +"I think I do," her mother agreed. "They remind one of the dear little +wild pansies, or dog violets, too." + +And by good luck, the old woman who kept the flower-stall, had some +beautiful purple pansies, none of the paler ones were half so pretty +that day, so the choice was not so difficult after all. Mamma picked out +a beauty, with two flowers on it, one almost full blown, and the other +not far behind, and a proud little girl was Pansy, as, after having paid +her sixpence she trotted home again, her precious namesake tightly +clasped in her arms. + +"I don't think I've ever had such nice birthday presents, have I, +mamma?" she said, as she lifted up her own soft little face, as sweet +and as soft as the flower, for a kiss, before hurrying upstairs to the +nursery to show her treasure. + +[Illustration] + +And it made her mother very happy to see that her little daughter had +that best of all fairy gifts, a grateful and contented heart. + +But Pansy had her troubles like other people, as you will hear. + + + + +[Illustration] + +PANSY'S PANSY . PART . III-- + + +The pansy was installed in state on its little owner's window-sill. For +there were deep old-fashioned window-sills in the vicarage that served +in turn both as tables and seats for the children. So Pansy warned her +brother and sister that they must be very careful now not to climb up on +to _her_ window-sill without asking her first, so that she could move +the flower-pot out of the way. + +Bob and Ruth both promised. And indeed they were very nearly quite as +much taken up with the pretty flower as Pansy herself. If she _could_ +have forgotten to water it, she would have been well reminded to do so. +I don't think there was ever a plant more watched, and cared for. It was +Pansy's first thought in the morning and last at night. Every little +speck of dust was tenderly wiped off its leaves, it was moved from one +part of the room to another to get the sunshine, of which, as I have +told you, there was seldom more than a scanty amount at Northclough, and +the window-sill, its own particular home, was kept as clean as if the +pansy was a fairy princess who got out of her flower-pot at night to +take a little exercise on her terrace. + +[Illustration: Bob had an inspiration] + +And very soon the two flowers were at their perfection; they were very +fine ones really, and I think Pansy knew every mark on their faces as +well as a mother knows the dimples in her darling's cheeks, even the +freckles on her darling's forehead. Truly the little girl had got a good +sixpenceworth of pleasure out of her purchase. + +The weather grew warmer, early in June it was really sultry for a few +days. Pansy began to be careful in a new way for her pet. It must not be +allowed to get _too_ hot, or to be broiled up by the sun, so a shady +corner was chosen for the flower-pot during the middle of the day. And +it really seemed grateful for the care bestowed upon it. Never did a +pansy prosper better, or lift itself up in fresher beauty to greet its +little gardeners. + +But one day, unfortunately, Bob had an inspiration, if you know what +that is. + +[Illustration: no Pansy, no flower-pot, nothing to be seen!] + +"Pansy," he said to his sister, "I've been thinking if you want the +flowers to last as long as they possibly can, you must really give them +a little more fresh air. It's all very well in the daytime when your +window's open, but at night I'm sure the pansy feels choky and stuffy. +You see flowers aren't like us, except hot-house ones of course, they're +used to live out-of-doors." + +Pansy looked very anxious. + +"I wonder if it's that," she said. "I noticed, though I tried to think +it was fancy, that one of the biggest flower-leaves," (she meant +"petals," but she was too little to know the right word), "not the +_leaf_-leaves you know, was a tiny atom of a bit crushed up, almost +like," and here Pansy dropped her voice, as if what she was going to say +was almost _too_ dreadful to put in words, "almost like as if it was +beginning to--to wither a little." + +Bob nodded his head. + +"That's it," he said, "I bet you anything that's it. It's want of fresh +air. Well, Pansy, I've measured the ledge outside, it's quite wide +enough to hold the flower-pot and the saucer, and though it slopes +downwards a very little, it's nothing to make it stand unsteady. Now +suppose, last thing at night, we put it outside, I'm sure it would +freshen it up, and flowers are just as used to night air as to day air." + +Pansy agreed; she examined the outer sill with Bob, it seemed all right. +So that evening when the children's bedtime came, pansy flower was told +by Pansy little girl what her kind mamma and uncle had planned for her +benefit, and with what Pansy called a kiss, a very butterfly kiss it +was, for the little girl was as afraid of hurting the pansy as if it had +been a sensitive plant, the flower-pot was placed on the ledge outside. + +First thing next morning Pansy flew to look at the flower. + +"Have you had a good night, my darling? oh, yes, I think so. You look +very fresh and well, though a _little_ wet." For a gentle shower had +fallen in the night. "Perhaps the rain will have done you good." + +Bob was quite sure it had, certainly the crumply look on the purple +petal was no _worse_, so the plan was kept to, and every night the pot +was carefully settled on the ledge. + +I think it was on the third morning that the dreadful thing happened +which I must now tell you of. + +When Pansy opened the window to draw in her dear flower and bid it good +morning, there was no pansy, no flower-pot, _nothing_ to be seen! + +With a sort of shriek Pansy flew across the day nursery to the bedroom +where nurse was dressing baby Charley, while Bob, all ready, was giving +the last touch up to his curly hair. + +[Illustration] + +"Nurse, Bob," she cried, "have you _possibly_ brought the pansy in while +I was asleep?" + +But nurse and Bob shook their heads. Then they all hurried back to +Pansy's room, and nurse, bidding the children stand back, peered out of +the window. There was a tiny strip of ground railed in between the house +and the street. Nurse drew her head in again. + +"Master Bob," she said, "run down and ask cook to let you out by the +back-door. I think I see the poor flower down there. It must have fallen +over." + +Yes, _knocked_ over by a stray cat, most likely. The children had never +thought of cats. There it lay! Bob and the cook did their best, but +there was little to do. It was a poor little clump of green +"leaf-leaves" only that remained, when the sad procession from the +nursery tapped at their mother's door, Pansy's face so disfigured by +crying that you would _scarcely_ have known her. + +Mamma was very sorry for her, very, _very_ sorry. She knew that to Pansy +it was a real big sorrow, trifling as some people might think it. But, +still, as she told the little girl, sorrows and troubles _have_ to come, +and till we learn to bear them and find the sweet in the bitter we are +not good for much. So she encouraged Pansy to be brave and unselfish and +not to make the nursery life sad and miserable on account of this +misfortune. And Pansy did her best. Only she begged her mother to take +the flower-pot away. + +"I think I would like it to be buried," she said with a sob. "It's like +when Bob's canary died." + +But two or three days after that, it may have been a week even, one +morning mamma came into the nursery looking very happy and carrying +something in her hand over which she had thrown a handkerchief. + +"Pansy dear," she said, "I waited to tell you till I was quite sure. I +did not 'bury' your pansy root, and I have been watching it. And do you +know there is another bud just about to burst, and a still tinier one, +all green as yet, but which will come on in time. In a week or two you +will have two new flowers quite as pretty, I hope, as the other ones." + +"Oh mamma," said Pansy, clasping her hands together. Her heart was too +full to say more. + +And the buds did blossom into lovely flowers, even lovelier, the +children thought, than the first ones. For there was the intense delight +of watching them growing day by day, the gardener's delight which no one +can really understand who has not felt it. + +No accident happened this time, and when the season was over, the pansy +root was planted in a corner of the little strip of flower border at the +side of the house, where it managed to get on very well, and perhaps +will have more buds and flowers for several springs to come. + +There is one thing more to tell. Pansy's godmother was so touched by the +story of the pansy, that she sent an "extra" present to the vicarage +children that summer, though it wasn't any "birthday" at all. The +present was a beautiful case of ferns, with a glass cover, so that it +could stand in the house all the year round. It was placed in the window +of the landing on to which the nursery opened, and there, I hope, it +stands still. For it would be impossible to tell the delight this +indoors forest gives to the children, who have grown so clever at +managing it, that Bob really thinks they should try for a prize at the +next "window gardening" exhibition. + +For there _are_ such cheerful things as that, one is glad to know, even +at smoky Northclough! + + + + +[Illustration] + +PET'S HALF-CROWN + + +Mammas have troubles sometimes, though you mightn't think it. They have +indeed. I remember when I was a little girl that it seemed to me big +people _couldn't_ have real troubles; that only children had them. Big +people could do as they liked, get up when they liked, not go to bed +_till_ they liked; eat what they chose, dress as they pleased, do no +lessons, and were never scolded. Things do not look quite like that to +me now, when for many many more years than I was a child I have been a +big person. However, as each of you will find out for himself or herself +all about big people in good time, I won't try to explain it to you. +Only, I do think the world might get on better if little people +believed that big ones _have_ their troubles, and--if big people +believed and remembered the same thing about little ones. + +Some children seem wise before their time. They early learn what +"sympathy" means--they begin almost before they can talk to try to bear +some part of other people's burdens. + +A little girl I once knew, who was called "Pet," (though of course she +had a proper name as well,) was one of these. She was a gentle little +thing, with large soft rather anxious-looking blue eyes; eyes that +filled with tears rather _too_ easily, perhaps, both for her own +troubles and other people's. + +But she got more sensible as she grew older, and by the time she was ten +or so she had found out that there are often much better ways of showing +you are sorry for others than by crying about them, and that as for +crying about _ourselves_, it is always a bad plan, though I know it +can't quite be helped now and then. + +Pet was the eldest, and a very useful "understanding" little eldest she +was. _She_ knew that her mother had troubles sometimes, and she did her +best to smooth them away whenever she possibly could. + +One of the things she was often able to do to help her mother was by +keeping her little brothers and sisters happy and amused when they came +down to the drawing-room in the evening, and now and then, if it were a +rainy day, earlier. For mamma felt sorry for the children if they were +shut up in the nursery for long, and as all little people know, a +change to the drawing-room is very pleasant for them, though sometimes +rather tiring for mammas. + +[Illustration] + +It happened one afternoon, a very wet and cold afternoon in January, +when there was no possibility of going out, that _all_ the children were +downstairs together. There were four of them besides Pet, and it was not +very easy to amuse them all. But Pet was determined to do her very +best--for she knew that mamma was _particularly_ busy that day, as she +had all her accounts to do. And indeed poor mamma would have been very +glad to have a quiet afternoon, but nurse had a headache, and baby, who +had had a bad night, was sleeping peacefully for the first time, and +must not be disturbed. There was nothing for it but to bring the little +troop downstairs. + +"We will be very good and quiet, mamma dear," said Pet. "You can go on +doing your accounts, for I know you can't do them this evening, as aunty +is coming. Charley and I,"--Charley was the next in age to Pet--"will +show all our best picture-books to the little ones." + +Charley was very proud to hear himself counted a big one with Pet, and +he did all he could to help her. They really managed to keep the others +quiet, and Pet was hoping that mamma was getting on nicely with her long +rows of figures, and that soon she would be calling out gladly, "All +right. I can come and play with you now," when to her distress she heard +her mother give a deep sigh. + +"Oh, dear mamma, what's the matter?" she said, "are we disturbing you?" + +"No, darling, you are as quiet as mice," her mother replied. "But I +don't know how it is--I have counted it all up again and again, and I am +_sure_ I have put down everything I have spent, but I am half-a-crown +wrong. Dear, dear--what a pity it is! Just as I thought I had finished." + +And again mamma sighed. She did not like to think she had perhaps lost +half-a-crown, for she and Pet's father had not any half-crowns to spare. + +"I will just go and see if possibly it is in my little leather bag that +I always take out with me," she said. And she rose as she spoke and left +the room. + +Pet felt sure it was not in the little bag, for she had been standing by +when her mother emptied it. + +"Poor mamma," she said softly. "I can't bear her to be troubled." + +Then the colour rose into her face and her eyes sparkled. + +"Charley," she whispered, "keep the little ones quiet for one minute," +and off she flew. + +She was back in _less_ than a minute, though she had found time to run +up to her room and take something out of a drawer where she kept her +treasures. Then she ran across to her mother's writing-table and slipped +this something under the account-books, lying open upon it. + +And almost immediately mamma came back. + +"No," she said sadly, "it was not in my bag. I fear I have lost it +somehow, for I am sure my accounts are right. I must just put it down as +lost." + +But in another moment came a joyful cry. + +"Pet," she exclaimed, "_would_ you believe I could be so stupid? Here it +is--the missing half-crown--slipped under my account book! I _am_ so +pleased to have found it. Now, children dear, mammy can come and play +with you with a light heart." + +"I am so glad you are happy again, mamma darling," said Pet; and if her +mother noticed that her little girl's cheeks were rosier than usual, and +her eyes brighter, no doubt she only thought it was with the pleasure +of all playing together. For I don't think they had ever had a merrier +visit to the drawing-room. + +[Illustration] + +You have guessed the secret before this, I am sure? That little Pet had +fetched her own half-crown to play a loving trick with it. It was her +only half-crown, her only money, except one sixpenny-bit and two +pennies! But she gave it gladly, just saying to herself that it was a +very good thing Christmas-time was over and no birthdays very near at +hand. + +And she kept her secret well. So well, that though a great many years +have passed since then, it was only a _very little while ago_ that her +mother heard, for the first time, the story of her child's loving +self-denial. The smile on mamma's face, and the knowledge that she had +brought it there were Pet's only reward. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + +A CATAPULT STORY. + + +"Oh, well, you can have a catapult if you like," said Hector, with +lordly disdain. "It doesn't matter to _me_, and it certainly won't +matter to any one or anything else. You'll never hit anything--girls +never do. They can't throw a stone properly." + +"You're very unkind, and--and--very horrid," said Dolly, nearly crying. +"It's very mean and un--it's not at all like knights long ago, always to +be saying mocking things of girls." + +"Rubbish," said Hector. "Besides, if you come to that, girls or ladies +long ago didn't want to do things like--like men," the last word with a +little hesitation, for he knew Dolly was sharp enough to be down on him +if he talked big. "They stayed at home and did sensible things, for +women; cooking and tapestrying, and nursing wounded soldiers." + +[Illustration] + +"They had to go out to the battle-fields sometimes to get the wounded +soldiers--_there_!" said Dolly triumphantly. "And what's more, some of +them _did_ know how to fight, and did fight. Think of Jeanne d'Arc, +and--and--somebody, I forget her name, who defended her husband's +castle." + +[Illustration] + +"All right," said Hector. "I'm not quarrelling with your having a +catapult, and you can defend your husband's castle with it if you +like--that's to say if you ever get a husband. _I_ should think a girl +who knew how to sew nicely, and to keep her house very neat and +comfortable, a much nicer wife than one who went about catapulting and +trying to be like a man. And you know you're not really so grand and +brave as you try to make out, Dolly. You screamed like anything the +other day when I threw a piece of wood that looked like a snake at you." + +"It was very mean and cowardly of you to try to frighten me," said +Dolly. "And I know somebody that needn't boast either. Who was it that +ran away the other day when Farmer Bright's cow got into our field? +Somebody thought it was a bull, and was over the hedge in no time, +leaving his sister to be gored or tossed by the terrible bull." + +Hector grew red. He was not fond of this story, which had a good deal of +truth in it. It seemed as if a quarrel was not very far off, but Hector +thought better of it. + +"I was very sorry afterwards that I ran away," he said. "You know I told +you so, Dolly, and I really thought you were close beside me till I +heard you call out. I don't think you need cast up about it any more, I +really don't." + +Dolly felt penitent at once, for she was a kind little girl, and +Hector's gentleness touched her. + +"Well, I won't, then," she answered, "if you'll teach me how to +catapult." + +Hector did his best, both that day and several others. But I must say I +have my doubts as to whether catapults are meant for little girls. Dolly +tried over and over and over again, but she never could manage to hit +anything she aimed at. And at last her patience seemed exhausted. + +"I'm tired of it," she said. "I'll give it to Bobby. I shan't try to +catapult any more." + +And it would have been rather a good thing if she had kept to this +resolution. + +[Illustration] + +But the next day when she was out in the garden with her brothers, +admiring Hector's good aim and the wonderful way in which he hit a +little bell which he had hung high up on the branch of a tree as a sort +of target, it came over her that she would try once again. + +"Look at that bird, up on the top of the kitchen-garden wall," she said. +"I'll have a go at it." + +Hector laughed. + +"I think the bird's quite safe," he said. + +Dolly thought so too. She did not want to hurt the bird, she was really +speaking in fun. But all the same she aimed at it, and--oh, sad and +strange to say--_she hit it_! a quiver of the little wings, and the +tiny head dropped, and then--in a moment it had fallen to the foot of +the high wall on which it had perched so happily a moment before! + +The children rushed forward breathlessly. Dolly could not believe that +she had hurt it, scarcely that she had hit it. + +But alas! yes. It was quite dead. + +Hector held it in his hand. The bright eyes were already glazed--the +feathers limp and dull. + +And oh, worse and worse, it was a wren. A little innocent, harmless +wren. + +Dolly's sobs were bitter. + +"I'll never touch a catapult again," she said. "A nasty horrid cruel +thing it is. And I didn't really mean to hit the poor wren." + +"It was only a fluke, then," said Hector, who, in spite of his sorrow +for the wren, had felt some admiration for his sister's skill. + +"N--no, not that," she said. "I _did_ aim, but I never thought I'd hit +it. Still, Hector, it shows you I _can_ hit, you see;" and the thought +made her leave off crying for a moment or two. But the sight of the poor +little wren changed her triumph into sorrow again. + +"I've done with shooting," she said, as she threw the unlucky catapult +away. + +And then she covered up the dead wren in her handkerchief and went in to +tell her troubles to "mamma." + +Her mother was very sorry too. + +"You must think of it as a sort of accident," she said. "But let it be +a lesson to you, dear Dolly, never to do anything half in joke, or for +fun as it were, which could cause trouble to any one if it turned into +earnest." + +There was some comfort in the thought that it was late autumn, and not +spring-time, so there was no fear of poor little Jenny Wren's death +leaving a nestful of tiny orphan fledglings. And Hector helped Dolly to +bury the bird in a quiet corner of the garden. + +But all the same, Dolly has never liked catapults since that unlucky +day! + + + + +[Illustration] + +A VERY LONG LANE OR LOST IN THE MIST + + +Have you ever been lost? Really lost. I mean to say have you ever had +the _feeling_ of being lost? It is rather a dreadful feeling. I had it +once and I have never forgotten it. I will tell you about it. + +I was about fifteen at the time. We were living for some months in a +large country house belonging to relations of ours, in the west of +England. In that part of the world many of the roads are really only +narrow lanes, where two carriages cannot pass--it is very awkward indeed +sometimes, if you meet a cart or any vehicle at a narrow part. One or +other has to back ever so far, till you come to a gateway or to a little +outjut in the lane making it wider just there. And these lanes are sunk +down below the level of the fields at their sides, and there are high +hedges too, so that really you may drive for miles and miles and +scarcely know where you are. It is difficult to know your way even in +broad daylight--even the people who live there always, have often to +consult the finger-posts, of which, I must allow, there are plenty! And +for strangers or new-comers it is _very_ puzzling. + +We got on pretty well however. My elder sisters drove about a great deal +in a jolly little two-wheeled pony cart, and as I was small and light, I +was often favoured with an invitation to accompany them, sitting in the +back seat, which was _not_ luxurious. + +"It does very well for Thecla," my sisters used to say, "she is so thin. +And she's as handy as a boy about jumping out to open the gates." + +I didn't mind--I was only too pleased to go, in any way, and rather +proud to be called handy. + +So I got to know the country pretty well, and I would not have been +afraid, by daylight at least, to go a good distance alone. + +One day some friends who lived about three miles off, came to luncheon +with us. There were two or three grown-up ladies, and a girl just about +my age, named Molly. She was my principal friend while we were living +there, as she was very nice and we suited each other very well. The +older people, both of her family and of mine, drove away in the +afternoon to a large garden party some way off, to which we were +thought too young to go, or very likely there was not room for us in the +carriages. But we were very happy to stay behind. We were to have tea +together, and then it was arranged that I was to take Molly half-way +home. + +[Illustration: Off we set, in very good spirits,] + +"Be sure you are not later in starting than half-past five," said my +mother, "so that you can be back before it begins to get dark," for it +was already September. + +And Molly's mother repeated the warning, only adding, "I am not the +least anxious about Molly--she knows the way so well. But it might be +puzzling for Thecla, as our lanes are really a labyrinth after dark." + +"Oh I am _sure_ I couldn't get lost between here and Three Corners," I +said, laughing. "Three Corner Court" was the quaint name of Molly's +home. + +Well--we found the afternoon only too short--we enjoyed our nice tea +very much, and felt rather reluctant to set off as soon as it was over. + +"It is barely half-past five," I said. But Molly was very determined. + +"We must start," she said. "I feel responsible for you, Thecla, for you +will have to come back alone." + +"As if I _could_ lose my way, when I have only to come straight back the +way you take me," I said, "and I have been a bit of that way before." + +We were not going by the road but by a short cut, part of which was a +foot-path through the fields, and _generally_, I had driven to Three +Corners, so that there was some reason for Molly's carefulness. + +"Don't be too sure," she said, "you don't know how like some of the +fields are to each other, as well as the lanes. We have regular +landmarks we depend upon." + +Off we set, in very good spirits, laughing and talking. We laughed and +talked a little too much perhaps, for though the very first part of the +way was through our own grounds, where I could not of course have gone +astray, we soon came to a succession of fields--several of them ploughed +land--which certainly were very like each other. We crossed two or three +lanes, going a few steps in one direction or the other to get to the +gates, and keeping always in the same line ourselves. Suddenly Molly +stopped in the middle of a very interesting discussion of a book we had +been reading. + +"Thecla," she said, "you've come more than half way--you must turn back +now, for it will be getting dusk. And oh dear, I didn't point out the +old hawthorn at the gate of the great Millside field--and it _is_ so +easy to mistake it for Southdown field, and then you'd get all wrong." + +[Illustration: It was a ploughed field, and it really was "up"] + +"I'm sure I remember it," I said, "and I don't see how I _could_ go +wrong if I keep in the same direction." + +"Ah, but it's so easy to get out of the same direction without knowing +it," she said, "once the sun's gone. Now _do_ be careful," and she +repeated a few more warnings. + +I kissed her and ran off gaily. For a while all went well. I had crossed +two lanes and three grass fields when I found myself for the first time +at a loss. Was I to go straight through the gate facing the one I had +come out by, or go a little way down the lane? Was this the place to +look out for the hawthorn bush? If so, there was no hawthorn bush here, +so I decided to go down the lane a little. It seemed a good way before I +came to a gate, and when I did, there was no bush or tree of any kind. +But I felt sure that up this field was in the right line, so on I went. +It was a ploughed field and it really was "up," for it sloped rather +steeply. Oh how tired I was when I got to the top! But now I thought all +my troubles were over--I had only to go a quarter of a mile along the +lane, to reach our own back entrance to the stables. + +[Illustration: I was not half-a-mile from the Hall!] + +"What a good thing I am so near home," I thought, as I became aware that +almost in a moment a thick grey mist had risen--all around was bathed in +it, and I ran on as fast as I could. + +The mist now and then cleared a little, but the night was falling fast +and I saw no sign of the white gates I was looking for. I ran the +faster--but the hedges remained unbroken, and after a while I was forced +to own to myself that somehow or other I had _got into the wrong lane_! +Oh dear! I dared not turn back--I just ran on, and the mist grew thicker +again. I soon got so tired, that the temptation was strong to sit down +at all costs. And if I had done so I might have fainted or fallen +asleep, and not perhaps been found till too late! + +It was a dreadful feeling--after a while I think I began to get rather +dazed and stupefied, from fatigue and anxiety. I had only just a sort of +instinct that at all costs I _must_ keep going. + +"The lane must lead to somewhere," I said to myself, though really it +seemed as if it was endless. I must have been running, or half running +and sometimes walking for nearly an hour when at last--the mist having +cleared a little--I saw a light in front, a little to one side. It +seemed to bob up and down as I ran--the lane was uneven just here, and +once or twice I was afraid it had gone. But no--there it was again, and +to my joy I found it came from a cottage window across a field to the +right. + +"I shall find I am miles and miles from home," I thought, and just fancy +my surprise when I knocked at the door and asked my way, to be told that +I was not half-a-mile from the hall." + +I had gone thoroughly wrong almost from the first, and the long lane +skirted the fields away up on higher ground behind our house as it were, +where I had had no business to be at all. + +They were just sallying out with lanterns to look for me, but they never +would have thought of that lane, and there I might easily have been left +all night if my strength had really failed. + +Oh how glad I was to change my damp clothes and to have a nice hot cup +of tea in my mother's room beside the fire! + +Since then I have never boasted about being sure to find my way. + + +EDMUND EVANS, ENGRAVER AND PRINTER, RACQUET COURT, FLEET STREET, + LONDON, E.C. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, by +Mrs. (Mary Louisa) Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTEEN LITTLE BLACK PIGS *** + +***** This file should be named 30547.txt or 30547.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/4/30547/ + +Produced by "Delphine Lettau, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.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. 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