As captured January 23, 2025

author: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-01-22 21:08:59 -0800
committer: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-01-22 21:08:59 -0800
commit: ad8a1dcdf542a913f67ea46ff9bccee49686ec0c (patch)
tree: db920c90233a48bc413e2342641d386e3f79854f
parent: 82e35b6f2c858850202b41b7a07b1aa69c5c483d (diff)
14 files changed, 11172 insertions, 6008 deletions
diff --git a/65830-0.txt b/65830-0.txt
index 226e277..576d057 100644
--- a/65830-0.txt
+++ b/65830-0.txt
@@ -1,2603 +1,2226 @@
-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's
-Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year, by Hesba Stretton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable
-       Christmas and a Happy New Year
-
-Author: Hesba Stretton
-
-Release Date: July 12, 2021 [eBook #65830]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed
-             Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-             produced from images generously made available by The Internet
-             Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM
-FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***
-
-
-
-
-TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
-
-
-
-
-By the Author of ‘Jessica’s First Prayer.’
-
-_Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with Frontispiece._
-
-Price Sixpence each
-
-
-  FRIENDS TILL DEATH.
-  THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON.  1 vol.
-  MICHEL LORIO’S CROSS.
-  OLD TRANSOME.
-
-  For a list of other Works by the same Author,
-  see the Catalogue at the end of this work.
-
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON.
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: ‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine.’
-
-                                                 _See page 24._]
-
-
-
-
-  TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
-
-  _SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK_
-
-  _A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND
-  A HAPPY NEW YEAR_
-
-
-  BY
-  HESBA STRETTON
-
-  AUTHOR OF
-  ‘LOST GIP’ ‘CASSY’ ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER’ ETC.
-
-
-  WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
-  _HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON_
-  1876
-
-
-(_All rights reserved_)
-
-
-
-
-SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK.
-
-
-If any one had told Sam Franklin before he married that he would ever
-save money out of his wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn;
-they had never been more than enough when he had only himself to keep,
-and when there was a wife into the bargain, what chance would there be
-for him to have a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
-many weeks, he had made the discovery that the wages which had only
-been enough for one were rather more than enough for two. There were no
-dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long evenings spent in the
-public-houses, no laundresses’ bills to meet. He had a great deal more
-comfort with a somewhat smaller outlay.
-
-When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over and above the sum he
-allowed his wife for housekeeping and rent, he hardly knew what to do
-with it. His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did not care to
-leave it for the tavern. He and his wife were living on the first-floor
-of a house in a decent, quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans
-like himself, though the houses were from three to four stories high,
-and had been built for richer people. They had a sitting-room, with
-a bedroom behind it, and the use of a back kitchen for cooking and
-washing; so the place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann Franklin
-had notions of cleanliness and smartness, which made her take great
-pride in herself and all her belongings. The parlour, as she liked it
-to be called, was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
-had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise and smoke of a
-public-house taproom.
-
-What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown? It doubled itself
-into five shillings, and by-and-by a golden half-sovereign lay among
-the silver and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was a man
-of few words--a close man, his comrades called him--and silent as
-the grave concerning his own affairs. Had he told one of them when
-he was about to be married? Not his best friend amongst them! Had he
-mentioned it as a piece of news interesting to himself that he had a
-son born? Never! He despised men who could not keep a still tongue
-in their heads, but must prate about all they did or thought. Even
-with his wife he was sparing of words, though he liked her to tell him
-everything she did, and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was only
-a woman; a man should have more control over his tongue.
-
-So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his savings, though they
-seemed to grow like seed sown in good ground. Every week he gave his
-wife the sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the best of it
-cheerfully, letting him know how every penny was spent, and sometimes
-wondering to him how his comrades’ wives managed to be so much smarter
-than she was. At first he had thoughts of buying her a new bonnet or
-shawl, but he scarcely liked to own that he had been keeping back
-the money from her. This difficulty became greater as the sum grew
-larger; and, besides that, the possession of it began to get a hold
-upon him. It gave to him a secret consciousness of wealth among his
-fellow-workmen, which was very pleasant for a time; but by-and-by this
-feeling passed away, and a strange, unaccountable dread of being poor
-took possession of him. He began to talk about bad times, and the high
-prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses of a family, though
-his own consisted of his cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But
-this change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither himself
-nor his wife had any idea what was going on. He spent his evenings
-at home, and went nearly every Sunday to the place of worship which
-Ann and Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud of her tall,
-fine-looking husband, whose clothes she kept in such good order that he
-looked, in her eyes at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
-say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann was too true a
-wife to let it be said in her presence. He was industrious and steady,
-and kind to her and the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
-both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the bad times, not
-her husband’s.
-
-When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and had two Bank of England
-notes to take care of, his difficulty and perplexity had very much
-increased. There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had no faith
-in the old savings-banks, for he could remember how his poor old
-mother had lost every penny of her painful savings by the breaking of
-the one she had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about it,
-after keeping such a secret so long. The money became a trouble to
-him, though perhaps it was his most cherished possession. Certainly he
-thought of it oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
-it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he took it to the
-work-yard with him he was fearful of losing it, whilst if he left it
-at home he was quite as much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it
-would alter the face of things if she discovered that he was the owner
-of all that money, and had never told her!
-
-At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty pounds, a bright idea
-struck him one day. He stayed at home the next Sunday evening, and
-having found his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a good
-strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part of one of the seams
-large enough to take in a folded bank-note, and spread them as high as
-he could reach with his finger up and down the breast of it. He could
-not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been sewn before, but he
-was obliged to trust to Ann not noticing it, for it was a worn-out
-waistcoat and past her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
-first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat buttoned across
-it.
-
-‘Good gracious, Sam!’ she cried, ‘whatever made you put on that old
-thing?’
-
-‘It’s warmer than any I’ve got,’ he answered, putting his hand up
-against the breast of it where the bank-notes lay safe and hidden.
-
-‘It’s so old-fashioned,’ she said, discontentedly; ‘but it doesn’t
-matter much if you won’t go out of doors in it. Men have no notion of
-things.’
-
-‘What was the text, Ann?’ he inquired, simply to turn away her
-attention from the old waistcoat.
-
-‘Oh! it hadn’t anything to do with us,’ she replied, more cheerfully;
-‘it was, ‘The love of money is the root of all evil.’ Nothing for us in
-that, you know, though the preacher did say we might love it as much
-from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have it, nor crave
-it.’
-
-Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any further remark. He told
-his wife he should always put on his old waistcoat when he came in
-from his work; and he continued to do so regularly for some time, then
-occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat simply hung on a nail
-behind the bedroom door, only being taken down once a week by Ann, to
-have the dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had another note
-to add to those he had already secured; and he became so skilled in
-opening and sewing the seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing
-any difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy Sunday, feeling
-a deep satisfaction in his admirable scheme for concealing and taking
-care of his savings.
-
-Month after month, and year after year, the old waistcoat kept his
-secret faithfully. His eyes rested upon it first thing in the morning
-and last thing at night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
-there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever, grudging his wife
-her bits of blue and pink ribbon, with which she made herself smart,
-and altogether refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
-sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had paid hitherto at a
-dame’s-school. He was longing to make up fifty pounds; he had already
-forty-five in his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds sounded
-than forty-five!
-
-He had between three and four pounds towards this very desirable end,
-when one night, upon his return from work, he went as usual into the
-back room to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards the
-familiar object behind the door. But it was not there! The place was
-bare, and the nail empty. The mere sight of an empty nail in that place
-filled him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away in some
-drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was broken and tremulous.
-
-‘Where have you put my old waistcoat?’ he asked. He could hear her
-pouring the boiling water over the tea in the next room, and she did
-not answer before clicking down the lid of the teapot.
-
-‘Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,’ she answered, in a cheerful
-voice, ‘so I made a right good bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an
-old-clothesman.’
-
-The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as if he had received a
-heavy blow, and fell on the floor. He did not quite lose his senses,
-for he felt Ann trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
-him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and sit down on the foot
-of the bed, but still he found himself giddy and stunned.
-
-‘Where is it?’ he cried, bursting into tears and sobs, like a child;
-‘where is it?’
-
-‘The old waistcoat?’ she asked, thinking he was gone out of his mind.
-
-‘Yes!’ he said. ‘There was nine five-pound notes in it; forty-five
-pounds in Bank of England notes!’
-
-At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by his fall, and he was
-rambling; but as he kept on moaning over his loss, and confessing how
-he had concealed the notes from her, she began to believe him, and all
-the sooner when he pulled out the three sovereigns he had saved towards
-the tenth note and flung them on the floor in angry despair.
-
-‘And I don’t know the man from Adam!’ cried Ann. ‘I never saw him
-before; and he’ll take very good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam!
-how could you? how could you keep it a secret all these years, when
-I never bought as much as a yard of ribbon or a collar on the sly? I
-can’t forgive it, or forget it either.’
-
-She felt it very hard that Sam should not have trusted her. The loss
-of the money was hard, and she could not help thinking what a large sum
-it was, and what it might have done for Johnny. But the loss of faith
-in her husband was ten times worse. How could she ever believe in him
-again? or how could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
-trusted her?
-
-It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed his money so bitterly
-that Ann began to fancy he would rather have lost her or his child. She
-sat silent and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost raving
-with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him the next morning before
-he set off to the yard, though she knew he had lain awake all night
-like herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast. It was a
-cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling the air. Sam was wet
-through before he reached his work, and there was no chance of drying
-his clothes. He was wet through when he came home, but there were no
-dry, warm things laid out for him. He might wait upon himself, thought
-Ann; it would be well for him to see the difference between a good wife
-and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a change of clothing for
-himself, and he sat shivering on the hearth all night, in spite of the
-warm, cheerful blaze of the bright fire.
-
-By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin was compelled to knock
-off work. Severe rheumatic fever had set in, and the doctor said he
-must not expect to get back to the yard for three months or more.
-Perhaps it was the best thing that could have befallen him, for it
-brought back all the old warm love for him to his wife’s heart, which
-had been grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of trust in
-her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying a word to blame him now he
-could not get out of her way, as many wives would have done. Before
-his illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her own best
-clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere necessaries of life. Never
-had Sam Franklin thought his wife would have to go day after day to the
-pawn-shop; but she did it so cheerfully that half of the sting of it
-was taken away.
-
-‘Nancy,’ he said, one morning, ‘all night long I’ve had a text ringing
-in my head, ‘You cannot serve God and mammon,’ ‘You cannot serve God
-and mammon!’ Why, I used to think I was doing God a service when I put
-on my Sunday clothes and went to church of a Sunday morning with you.
-As if He’d think that were serving Him! And then all the week I was
-worshipping that old waistcoat of mine hanging behind the door, as much
-as any poor heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I begin to think
-it was God who put it in your heart to sell it to the old-clothesman.
-But how can I serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can’t do anything save
-lie in this bed and be a burden to you.’
-
-Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband, whispering, ‘I don’t
-mind a bit about you being a burden, as you call it;’ and after that
-she opened a Bible and read these words: ‘Then said they unto him, What
-shall we do, that we may work the works of God? Jesus answered and said
-unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom he hath
-sent.’
-
-‘Ay! I see it,’ he said, after a long pause, ‘that’s a work I can begin
-better here, perhaps, than in the yard at my work. I can work for God
-that way, lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And now I come
-to think of it, Jesus Christ never served mammon anyway, and if I
-believe in Him I shall try to be like Him. It’s no use praying to God
-on Sundays and doing contrary all the week, wailing after money and
-such like.’
-
-‘Sam,’ answered his wife, ‘I’ve not been believing in him as I ought,
-for I’ve been fretting after that old waistcoat ever so, thinking how
-useful the money would be now; but if you’ll help me I’ll help you, and
-we’ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we could see him coming
-into the room and talking to us.’
-
-‘But that would be seeing, not believing.’
-
-‘So it would,’ she answered, ‘and he said himself, “Blessed are they
-that have not seen, and yet have believed.” We must trust in Him
-without seeing Him.’
-
-But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all their possessions
-were disappearing one after another. Sam was a long while in fully
-recovering his strength; and when he was fit to go back to the yard
-they were pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so happy
-in former days. Their simple faith in the Saviour gave them a peace
-different from anything they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had
-now no secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind, grew
-frank and open with his wife. They pinched and denied themselves to
-get out of debt; and when the next winter came they were again in the
-comfortable circumstances which had been theirs when Ann sold the
-valuable old waistcoat.
-
-‘Sam,’ said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day, ‘Johnny’s been
-putting threepence a week into the school club. He’s got as much as
-nine shillings in, and he’s to have twopence a shilling added to it if
-we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the nine shillings out if
-we like. Come home in time to go with us to the school to-night.’
-
-‘Ay, ay!’ said Sam, heartily, ‘I’ll go with Johnny to get his little
-fortune.’
-
-It was quite dark in the evening when the three started off for the
-school where the weekly pence were paid in. But as they locked their
-parlour-door and turned into the street, they saw a girl about Johnny’s
-age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her head, standing on the outer
-door-sill, shivering and crying, as she looked at the dismal night,
-with flakes of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her well;
-she was the little girl belonging to the tenant of the attic two floors
-above them. Ann had often given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny
-to take to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her into their
-parlour, because she was too dirty and ragged. Now, as the child stood
-crying and shivering on the door-step, her heart smote her for her want
-of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her gently.
-
-‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
-
-‘Father says I must go and beg,’ she answered, crying more bitterly,
-‘and I’m frightened, and it’s so bitter cold. But we must pay our rent,
-he says, or be turned out, and he doesn’t know where to go to, and is
-very ill, coughin’ ever so. We owe for three weeks now, that’s nine
-shillings, and I don’t know where I’m to beg for nine shillings.’
-
-‘There’s all the coppers I’ve got,’ said Sam putting three or four
-pence in her hand, and hurrying on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the
-girl pattered after them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
-did not speak again till they reached the school, but once or twice
-she looked back and saw the little ragged figure following them. There
-was no one in the school room except themselves and the gentleman who
-was ready to receive their payment and give them the ticket for buying
-clothes to the value of ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could
-write out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin, care-worn
-little face peering in through the window.
-
-‘Oh, Sam,’ she cried, ‘we don’t want it so badly after all, and I think
-if it belonged to Him, Jesus Christ, he would give it to the poor man
-up in the attic to pay his rent with. Don’t you think he would?’
-
-‘But it’s Johnny’s little fortune,’ said Sam, ‘and we should lose one
-and sixpence if we took it out for that.’
-
-‘Johnny ’ud be glad to give it to poor little Bell?’ asked Ann, with
-her hand on the boy’s shoulder.
-
-‘Yes, mother, for little Bell,’ he said readily.
-
-‘Johnny’s clothes are warm, if they’re shabby,’ pursued Ann, ‘and
-there’s that poor little creature in rags, and barefoot. My heart aches
-for her, Sam. If it were our boy, and they’d nine shillings they didn’t
-want badly, what should we like them to do?’
-
-‘Well, Ann, I give up,’ he said; ‘after all, it’s your savings, not
-mine.’
-
-Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That man in the attic was
-very probably a drunken vagabond, and deserved to be turned out for not
-paying his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a year, and had
-been quiet enough, meddling with nobody, and not putting himself in
-anybody’s way. Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and then
-he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping figure, with a shabby
-old coat buttoned up to the throat, as if the man had no shirt to wear.
-Anyhow it was Ann’s business, and if any wife deserved to have her own
-way in a thing like this, it was his wife.
-
-Ann picked up the money, which was counted out to her, with a pleasant
-smile upon her face. It was snowing very fast when they opened the
-school-room door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
-pressed against the window and one foot drawn up out of the snow to
-keep it warmer. Ann called to her, and she ran quickly towards them.
-
-‘I prayed to God for the money this morning,’ she said, looking
-wistfully up into Ann’s smiling face, ‘but He couldn’t have heard me,
-for He never sent it.’
-
-‘He’s going to send it now,’ answered Ann.
-
-‘Will an angel come with it?’ she asked.
-
-‘Ay!’ answered Sam, stooping down and lifting the child in his arms,
-for he was quite strong again, and she was too thin and puny to be much
-weight. He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and if Ann
-was going to do them a good turn, why should he not do another?
-
-‘An angel with shining, white clothes on, and wings?’ said little Bell.
-
-‘No; she’s wearing an old bonnet and a faded shawl,’ answered Sam, ‘and
-her wings aren’t grown yet, I’m glad to say.’
-
-‘For shame, Sam!’ cried his wife; but she was glad to hear from his
-voice that he was agreeing heartily with her self-denial. It was not
-far back to their home, but instead of turning into their own pleasant
-room they all marched up two flights of stairs to the attic.
-
-It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted by a skylight, of
-which two or three of the panes were broken, and a few stray snowflakes
-were floating in, and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
-old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in it; and in one
-corner lay a hard mattress, on which they could see in the dim light
-the figure of a man, barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted
-up his head to speak to them a racking cough choked him, and it was a
-minute or two before he could utter a word.
-
-‘We’ve been your neighbours a long while,’ said Ann, gently, ‘and I’m
-ashamed I never came to see you before. We’ve brought little Bell home,
-for it’s a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up person,
-scarcely.’
-
-‘But the landlord says he’ll turn us out to-morrow,’ gasped the sick
-man.
-
-‘No! no!’ answered Ann; ‘that’s all right. We’ve got the money ready
-for him, and now we’ll make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
-and bring me a light, that’s a good fellow.’
-
-‘I’m not going to live long,’ said the stranger, ‘and I’m afraid of
-being turned out, but I can never pay you back again. There’s no more
-work in me, and my money’s done; I can’t pay you.’
-
-‘Never mind,’ she answered, ‘we’re only doing as we’d be done by, so
-don’t you worry about it. Here’s Sam coming with a candle; and now I’ll
-put your bed straight.’
-
-But when the light was brought in, and Ann looked down at the poor
-covering on the mattress, she uttered a little scream of amazement, and
-sank down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam himself stood as
-still as a stone, staring, as she did, at the clothes which lay across
-the bed. There was his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
-which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it possible that the
-nine five-pound notes were still safely hidden in the lining?
-
-‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine,’ he said, as soon as he could speak;
-‘I never thought to see it again.’
-
-‘I bought it soon after I came here,’ answered the attic tenant;
-‘an old-clothesman offered it for a shilling. It’s been a good warm
-waistcoat; but I’ve worn it for the last time.’
-
-‘I’ll give you a couple of blankets for it,’ said Sam, eagerly. ‘My
-wife sold it without asking me, and it was my wedding waistcoat, you
-see. I didn’t want to part with it.’
-
-‘Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,’ he answered; ‘you’ve done
-enough for me already.’
-
-‘No,’ said Ann, ‘I’ll bring the blankets.’
-
-She was trembling with excitement, but she would not leave the poor man
-until she had stopped up the broken panes, made the bed comfortable,
-and wrapped him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went down to
-their own room, and found Sam waiting for her before opening the seam
-in the lining of the waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed
-to unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of paper. Yes;
-they were all there, the nine five-pound notes he had never expected to
-touch again.
-
-‘Oh, Sam!’ she cried, with tears in her eyes, ‘do you think you will
-love them again?’
-
-For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at the notes, with
-a strange expression of fear upon his face. He compared the peace and
-happiness of the last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
-been to him. He thought of how he had begun to learn to think of God
-when he awoke in the morning, and when he was falling asleep at night.
-If he kept the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be right to
-throw away what God might intend them to keep as a provision against
-some time of need? Perhaps God saw the time was come when he might be
-trusted with money again.
-
-‘Ann,’ he said, ‘If I thought these notes would tempt me to serve
-mammon again, I’d throw them all on to the fire yonder. You take charge
-of them, my lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank, that
-was opened a few months ago. Thank God I lost them, and thank God I’ve
-found them again.’
-
-For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his wife nursed and tended the
-dying man in the attic as tenderly as if he had been their brother,
-teaching him what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick bed he
-might work the works of God, by believing on Jesus Christ, whom he hath
-sent. When he died, blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
-took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much upon her as the
-money laid by in the savings-bank. But she grew up like a daughter to
-them; and not long ago she became their daughter by marrying Johnny
-Franklin. The wedding took place a day or two before Christmas, the
-anniversary of the day when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune
-for little Bell.
-
-‘Oh, Sam!’ said his wife, as she thought of it, ‘how would it have been
-if we’d kept the nine shillings to buy clothes for Johnny?’
-
-‘We should have kept the nine shillings and lost the forty-five
-pounds,’ answered Sam. ‘It’s true, “He that hath pity upon the poor
-lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him
-again.”’
-
-‘Yes, but it’s more than that,’ said Ann; ‘we’d a chance of doing
-something like Jesus Christ would have done in our place, and we did
-it. That was the best of all.’
-
-
-[Illustration: She saw the stranger produce a pistol.
-
-                                                       _See page 46._]
-
-
-
-
-A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
-
-
-If you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton who was the
-prettiest and best girl in the town, they would, one and all, have
-answered promptly, ‘Dr. Layard’s daughter.’ There was scarcely a
-poor man or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard’s surgery,
-where he gave advice gratis to all who could not really afford to pay
-for it. And there was scarcely one who did not know the look of Dr.
-Layard’s bright, comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
-tender smile on Kate Layard’s face, as she listened pityingly to their
-sad stories, and sent them away home with happier hearts and lighter
-spirits.
-
-If it had not been for her poor people, as she called them, Kate
-Layard’s life would have been utterly dull and idle. She had no
-household duties to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
-of all such matters whilst she was still a little girl, would not brook
-any interference with her rule; and preferred to have Kate sitting in
-the drawing-room, idly busy over fancy work, or practising music to
-which no one listened, and painting water-colour sketches, at which
-no one looked. There were three boys younger than herself, but they
-were all away, either at school or college; and the long days passed
-by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really worth the
-doing. But for her father’s poor patients, and he had a good many of
-them, she would have felt her life to be quite lost.
-
-It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November, with a thick
-yellow fog pressing close against the windows, which prevented her from
-going out, that she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
-Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements for a thorough
-cleaning down before Christmas; but she steadily refused Kate’s offers
-of help. Secretly Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding out
-that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper as herself; and she
-shrank from the idea of going into some little lonely house of her own,
-where she could have no more than one little maid to order about, and
-no scope at all for her own powers. She did not think of Kate having
-no scope for hers. If she had, it is quite possible that she would
-have laid down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave Kate her
-proper post.
-
-‘I wish, something would happen to me!’ sighed Kate, on that dull
-November morning. At the very moment a servant brought in a letter,
-just delivered by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
-handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a vision of her father’s
-surgery flashed across her mind, with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking
-young man in her father’s place, giving advice and prescription, and
-good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It was Philip Carey,
-her father’s assistant, who had left them some months ago. It seemed to
-Kate that she had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the letter
-was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A bright colour flushed up
-in Kate’s face. If there had been any one in the room, she would have
-carried it away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet know
-a single word in it. But she was quite alone, and no one could see the
-colour in her cheeks, or the ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and
-made the lines look dim.
-
-‘I used to fancy sometimes,’ said Philip Carey, ‘that I might win your
-love; but I never dared to be sure of it. I was too poor then, and my
-future was too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you. But
-now I am appointed the assistant physician at Lentford Hospital, I
-think your father would be satisfied with my prospects. I do not write
-to him but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can trust your
-whole happiness to me, write but the one word “Come,” and I will come
-over immediately after my official appointment on the 30th, and speak
-to Dr. Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand your silence.’
-
-Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands, gazing blissfully
-into the fire. All the world was changed, quite suddenly. The day was
-no longer dull and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true. Philip
-Carey was the very man to be a physician in the Lentford Hospital; he
-was so gentle and considerate with the poor, and so skilful as well.
-She recollected how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned after
-him when he went away; and what a pang it had often been to her, a pang
-yet a pleasure, to hear his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good
-she must be to make herself good enough for him! She must be the best
-doctor’s wife in all Lentford.
-
-With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word ‘Come’ as Philip had
-suggested; and then it occurred to her that she might catch the morning
-post, and he would receive her answer before night. She directed the
-envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it across the square;
-dropping it into the letter-box with her own hands, and looking after
-it, as one does sometimes when the letter is a very important one.
-
-Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt Brooks was in a rather
-testy temper, and it was not easy to begin such a confidential
-disclosure to her. Dr. Layard was out all day, and only came in late at
-night, worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the secret being
-a secret. Everybody would know quite soon enough; for her letter had
-reached her on the 28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th,
-for Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride to Ilverton as
-soon as his official appointment was confirmed.
-
-Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came. Towards the close of
-the day Kate grew more agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might
-come in at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate was fully
-prepared to see him arrive then. But he did not appear; and the dinner
-passed very nearly in silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr.
-Layard was tired with his day’s work.
-
-‘Do you know, Kate,’ he said suddenly, ‘young Carey is appointed
-assistant physician at Lentford Hospital? It’s a splendid opening for
-so young a man. But he’s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
-content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah! Katie, Katie, you
-should have set your cap at him when he was here; you’ll never have
-such a chance again.’
-
-The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile played about her lips,
-ready to break into a happy laugh. If Philip would but come in now!
-
-‘Don’t put such notions into Kate’s head,’ said Aunt Brooks, precisely;
-‘no well behaved young lady would think of setting her cap at any one.’
-
-It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour after another passed
-by, and still he did not come. She went to the window, and opened it
-impatiently. She began to wonder if he meant to come in by the last
-train, and stay all night. But what would Aunt Brooks say? And what
-a strange hour it would be to begin to talk to her father about such
-a subject! She fancied it would take a very long time to introduce
-it, and afterwards to discuss it. But at half-past eleven Kate was
-compelled to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the fever of her
-new happiness having calmed a little, she slept profoundly, and dreamed
-of no trouble.
-
-But again there followed a morning and evening of expectation, dogged
-hour after hour by a strengthening disappointment. Kate sat moping over
-the fire, as Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip’s
-absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been carefully smoothed
-out again, and she read it till she knew every word by heart. But the
-pride and gladness died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of
-hope deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out of her life,
-and left her in deeper darkness than before. She waited and trusted
-till she could wait and trust no longer; and then she gave herself up
-to the full sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.
-
-There was no one to notice the change except her father, who was too
-busy to bestow more than a passing thought or two to her melancholy
-face and fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah’s gourd, had sprung
-up in a night and perished in a night; and like him she was ready to
-exclaim, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’
-
-Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered at all from her
-overwhelming sense of wretchedness and mortification. She was a pitiful
-and tender-hearted girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and she
-began to feel as if it was necessary for her own relief to make this
-miserable Christmas a time of pleasure and festivity to some of her
-poorer neighbours. If she could not see happiness with her own eyes,
-she would like to look at it through other people’s. It was impossible
-to remove the heaviness of her heart, but she might try to lighten
-others’. So one evening when she and her father were alone together,
-she approached the subject cautiously.
-
-‘Father,’ she said, ‘I want to make somebody in the world happier.’
-
-Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful. The burden that was
-oppressing her had made her feel that other people had heavy burdens
-to bear. She was learning that, in order to bear her own well, it was
-necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard was distressed by the
-mournfulness of his daughter’s tone.
-
-‘Make somebody happier!’ he repeated; ‘well, it is easy enough to do
-that.’
-
-‘How?’ asked Kate.
-
-‘Help them,’ answered Dr. Layard; ‘a little help is worth a deal of
-pity. Helping people is a good step towards making them and yourself
-happy.’
-
-‘That is what I want to do,’ said Kate, eagerly. ‘I want you to manage
-so that I can have some of your poor patients to tea here, in the large
-kitchen, on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit happier, I
-think. I don’t know that it would do much good, but they would enjoy
-it, wouldn’t they, father?’
-
-‘It would do them good, Kate,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘making people happy
-sometimes goes before making them good. In the hospital at times we
-make our patients as happy as they can be before the sharp operation;
-sometimes the sharp operation has to come first. We’ll try the merry
-Christmas for them this year, and then you must do what you can for
-them afterwards.’
-
-Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very gracious assent to
-Dr. Layard’s proposal, on condition that Kate took all the trouble of
-preparing for the guests, and entertaining them when they came. It made
-her busy enough for two or three days, and she tried to throw all her
-sad heart into it.
-
-‘Kate,’ said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, ‘we have forgotten one of
-our old favourites, who has not been here for months. You recollect old
-Mrs. Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins and tapes? Of
-all my poor patients, she ought to be present at your _soirée_.’
-
-Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party Kate’s _soirée_,
-and had taken an unusual interest in it. She was feeling more sorrowful
-than ever, this Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly gay.
-She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she found it difficult to get
-up a smile when her father spoke of the _soirée_. How different it
-would have been if Philip Carey had been true to her!
-
-‘Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?’ she asked, willing to escape
-from her sad thoughts for a little time.
-
-‘Easily,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘she lives in Wright’s Court, out of New
-Street, the last house but two on your left hand, I think. Anybody
-would tell you where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.’
-
-It was a dark night when Kate started out, without Bob, for she was not
-frightened; she was too miserable to be frightened. The passing relief
-she had felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas tea-party
-was spent, and the universal merriment only served to deepen her own
-loneliness and disappointment. The streets were full and noisy, but
-not disorderly. The church bells were ringing in anticipation of
-the coming day, and a general holiday tone was diffused through the
-crowd, though business was going on briskly. Groups of little children
-were gathering round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
-Christmas presents for themselves and each other from the magnificent
-display within, and laughing with pathetic mirth at their own daring
-dreams. Kate caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at her
-own vanished dream.
-
-Wright’s Court was not a good specimen of street architecture and
-paving. The houses were as low as they could be to boast of two
-stories, and the pavement was eccentric, making it necessary to take
-each step with great caution. An open gutter ran down the middle, and
-through the passage which formed the entrance; a passage four feet
-wide and twenty feet long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street,
-which shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her shadow
-bewilderingly before her. The court itself had no light but that which
-came through the uncurtained windows of the dwellings on each side,
-through which she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
-before she reached Mrs. Duffy’s door, where she stood a minute or two
-in the dark, looking through the small panes of the casement close
-beside it.
-
-It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough for the furniture
-it contained. There was an old box under the window, and one shelf
-against the wall, holding all Mrs. Duffy’s china and plate. The only
-chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs, were drawn up
-to the fireplace, in which a few coals were burning. Two old tin
-candlesticks and a flat-iron adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw,
-with a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared to
-decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had been stuck into
-each candlestick, as well as into every other pane of the little
-window. Mrs. Duffy herself was seated in the chair, apparently amusing
-herself with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was a black teapot
-and a cracked cup and saucer on the table, but there was no food upon
-it, and when she held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
-drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and looked placidly into
-the embers, shaking her head a little from time to time, but gently,
-as if more in remembrance of the past than in reproach of the present.
-She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no teeth, and her cheeks
-formed a little ball, like a withered rosy apple, between her hollow
-eyes and sunken mouth.
-
-‘The Lord love you, my dear,’ said Mrs. Duffy, when Kate went in, and
-delivered her message, ‘and the good doctor, too. It isn’t everybody as
-has such friends as me--on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body feels so
-lonesome wi’out friends. I don’t mind so much on working days, my dear,
-but one wants friends of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi’out
-friends; but one can’t love wi’out friends.’
-
-‘No, indeed!’ said Kate, with a profound sigh.
-
-‘And I’ve got such good friends!’ continued Mrs. Duffy, triumphantly;
-‘there’s one as gave me sixpence, and another threepence, and another
-twopence, only this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I’ve
-bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you know. You’d maybe
-like to see my Christmas joint like other folks, shouldn’t you, my
-dear?’
-
-‘I should very much,’ answered Kate.
-
-The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious possession, for it
-had been laid carefully between a plate and a basin, and these were
-well tied up in a ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
-cat. Kate’s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her eyelids smarted a
-little as if with coming tears, when she saw it. It was a morsel of
-coarse beef, which would not have covered the old woman’s hand, but
-which she regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.
-
-‘That cost sevenpence,’ she said, ‘and I bought two pennyworth of
-greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with it--me and a friend of mine,
-as is coming to dine with me. It’s a very poor lame girl as lives down
-the court; very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to eat
-my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant to me. The neighbour
-next door has promised to lend me a chair; we’re all so friendly one
-with another.’
-
-‘Then if you have a visitor you must bring her with you to tea,’
-said Kate, ‘and any children you have. Haven’t you got any sons or
-daughters? You’d enjoy yourself more with them there.’
-
-‘Bless your kind heart all the same,’ answered Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful
-face overcast for a moment; ‘I never had more than one bonny boy, and
-he went off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My Johnny he was.
-Sometimes I think as I shall never see him again. I was thinking of him
-when your knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty; and I
-was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt whether Johnny ’ud know his
-poor old mother again if he did come back.’
-
-‘How long is it since you heard from him?’ enquired Kate.
-
-‘I never heard from him at all,’ said Mrs. Duffy, in a matter-of-course
-tone; ‘he couldn’t write, and I couldn’t write. But he went to
-Australy, and he is in Australy now, if he hasn’t tumbled off. I can’t
-help thinking at times he must ha’ tumbled off, though the flies
-never do tumble off the ceiling. I’ve watched ’em for hours and hours
-together, thinking of my Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They
-have to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like them flies;
-but my Johnny wasn’t brought up to it, and I’m afeard for him at times.’
-
-‘Oh, no, he couldn’t tumble off,’ said Kate, laughing a little; ‘but
-are you sure you would know him yourself, Mrs. Duffy, after thirty
-years?’
-
-‘Can a mother forget her own boy?’ asked the old woman; ‘ay, ay; I
-should know my Johnny among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I’ll be
-glad to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many thanks to you for
-asking her. I’ve got to go out into the country to sing a carril or two
-at a farm-house, where they’re always very good to me; but that’ll be
-afore dinner; and we’ll come punctual to your house at five o’clock,
-me and my friend; and a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to every
-one of us, and you above all, my dear.’
-
-‘A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New Year it will be for me,’
-thought Kate; but she did not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting
-her down the court with her only candle, which guttered and wasted
-terribly in the night wind; and the last glance she had of the kindly,
-withered old face was lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of
-the dark passage.
-
-Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas sun was ready
-to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused up to the fact that if she was to
-sing a ‘carril’ a mile and a half away in the country, it was time to
-set out. Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin, scanty
-blanket she had been shivering under all night, were more attractive to
-her at seventy years of age than the long, lonely walk, through lanes
-deep down between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with mingled
-mud and ice. But she was of a brave and grateful heart, and after a
-short prayer for herself and everybody, uttered before quitting the
-feeble warmth of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
-the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard the shrill voices of
-children chanting some Christmas ditty; and she thought of Johnny when
-he was a boy, with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
-all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and singing in a voice
-which could not fail to rouse the most determined sleeper.
-
-‘He came home once with three shillings and twopence halfpenny, all
-in ha’pence,’ thought Mrs. Duffy, wiping away a tear from the sunken
-corner of her eye.
-
-It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but as soon as she had
-reached the porch, and lifting up her quavering voice, began, ‘God rest
-you, merry gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,’ the door was flung open
-quickly, and she was called in, and set before such a breakfast as she
-had not seen for years. Poor old Mrs. Duffy’s heart was very full, and
-before she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and tremulous
-voice: ‘I can’t think what’s come to folks this year. It’s like them
-blessed Christmases we shall have when everybody’s friends, when the
-lion is friends with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
-Here’s Dr. Layard’s daughter asked me to tea, and I’ve got a Christmas
-joint, and now there’s such a breakfast as I never see before, and me
-done nothing for it. I can’t think what’s come to folks; but it’s a
-blessed Christmas, it is.’
-
-‘You’ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,’ said the
-farmer’s wife, ‘and my husband’s father has given me a shilling for
-you.’
-
-Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after breakfast sang two
-or three carols, with as much zeal and energy as though they were sure
-to bring down many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
-after nine o’clock when she left the house; but there was the Christmas
-dinner to cook, and it was necessary to go home early for that. She
-bade them good-by, and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
-winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way back to the town.
-
-Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into the high road, when
-a man suddenly started up from behind the hedge, and laid his hand
-roughly on her shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
-ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at that early hour,
-to be half stupefied with drink. She looked into his coarse face, with
-a feeling of terror which was new to her.
-
-‘I want a shilling off you,’ he said, fiercely.
-
-‘A shilling!’ she cried, ‘where should a poor woman like me have a
-shilling from?’
-
-‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he demanded.
-
-Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on never having told
-a lie. She looked up and down the road, but there was not a creature
-in sight; and she glanced again hopelessly into the man’s savage and
-stupid face. What should she do? To part with the shilling just given
-to her would be a very great loss; and she knew it would only be spent
-in the nearest public-house. Should she be doing very wrong to deny
-having one? It was the first time for years that she had had a whole
-silver shilling about her; and any moment during that time she could
-have replied ‘No’ boldly and truthfully. Might she not say ‘No’ just
-this once?
-
-‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he repeated, shaking her shoulder roughly.
-
-‘Well,’ she said, feebly, ‘I haven’t had a shilling ever so long; but I
-have got one now. I’m a very poor old woman, my good young man. If I’d
-got a penny, I’d give it you, and welcome.’
-
-‘I must have your shilling,’ he said, doggedly.
-
-‘I can’t give it you, indeed,’ she answered; ‘there’s my rent, and
-coals, and other things; and I’m very poor. You’d only drink it.’
-
-She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw the stranger produce a
-pistol from under his jacket, and point it at her. There was a sudden
-flash before her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
-without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank on the high road.
-A few minutes later, Dr. Layard’s brougham was stopping at a toll-gate
-just outside the town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
-past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard was inside, with
-Kate, who was going out with him to see her godfather, a clergyman in
-the next parish. The doctor, having finished what he had to say to the
-gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said in passing.
-
-‘He says there’s a woman up the road, who’s been shot, sir,’ answered
-the servant, ‘and he says to me, “Look sharp after her, she’s an old
-woman, and very poor.”’
-
-‘Shot!’ exclaimed Dr. Layard; ‘drive on then, quickly. Katie, don’t be
-frightened. Gate, look after that fellow who has just gone through.’
-
-The last order was shouted through the window, as the carriage rolled
-rapidly away. In a few minutes they gained the spot where the old
-woman was lying as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
-staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her. Her old wrinkled
-face had lost all its apple-red, and her grey hair, scanty and short,
-had fallen down from under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
-exclaimed in one breath, ‘Mrs. Duffy!’
-
-Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a little shaken, and
-exceedingly troubled. She left the carriage, and sat down on the bank,
-supporting Mrs. Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
-examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and shoulder. His
-expression was very grave, and he stood for a few moments deliberating
-silently, with his eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
-and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.
-
-‘Is it dangerous?’ asked Kate, falteringly.
-
-‘Almost fatal,’ he answered; ‘within a touch of death. There’s one
-chance. I’m thinking of driving straight to Lentford Hospital. It’s a
-good level road all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
-town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift the old woman, and
-place her in an easy posture against you. Could you hold her pretty
-much as you are now for an hour or more? I’d do it myself; but you
-could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong enough?’
-
-‘I will be strong enough; I will do it,’ said Kate, lifting up her head
-with determination and endurance in every line of her face.
-
-It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage was a new one,
-handsomely lined and fitted up; but the servant’s soul ran more upon
-such subjects, and he began to protest against lifting the wounded
-and bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old creature, too,
-thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.
-
-‘Dolt! idiot! brute!’ ejaculated Dr. Layard, in high wrath; and Bob,
-who had only uttered half his protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.
-
-It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the carriage bowled rapidly
-along the smooth, straight old Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no
-sign of life, but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
-upon Kate’s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as she could, now and
-then clasping her warm fingers about her wrist, which was knotted and
-brown with age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to Kate’s
-touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with Bob, looked round from time
-to time, nodding to her, but with so grave a face that she felt the
-case was very serious. She thanked God fervently when the spires of
-Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of the morning chimes fell
-upon her ear. There were streams of people going to church, exchanging
-cheery salutations with one another; but many a person caught a glimpse
-of Kate’s pale and agitated face, and the grey head lying against her
-neck, and felt a shadow pass over their own Christmas gladness.
-
-Dr. Layard’s carriage drove into the courtyard of the hospital,
-and then Kate was quickly relieved of her burden. Mrs. Duffy was
-carried away, and Dr. Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious
-and troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower struck one
-quarter after another, and Bob drove up and down at a snail’s pace
-in dreary and monotonous turns. At length some one beckoned to him
-from the hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity which
-betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the last moment that it
-was Dr. Carey, not her father, who had summoned him; and she shrank
-back, breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage which
-concealed her best from him.
-
-‘Bob, your master says you must drive home,’ said Dr. Carey; ‘he will
-return by train in the afternoon.’
-
-‘And the old woman, sir?’ said Bob, ‘how’s she going on?’
-
-‘Very little hope,’ answered Philip Carey, whose face Kate could not
-see, but whose voice made every nerve thrill.
-
-‘Is it murder?’ asked Bob, who had known Dr. Carey as his master’s
-assistant, and stood on very little ceremony with him.
-
-‘I’m afraid so,’ he said; ‘how are they all at home, Bob? Miss Brooks
-and Miss Kate?’
-
-‘She’s in there,’ said Bob, pointing with his thumb to the carriage.
-Kate roused herself to lift up her head with dignity, sit erect upon
-her seat, and meet Dr. Carey’s salutation calmly. It was nearly four
-weeks since he had written to her, and she had replied, ‘Come.’ He
-looked at her with an amazed and confused expression, and took off his
-hat, but did not attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
-bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still bareheaded, and
-as if lost in thought, walked slowly back up the broad steps of the
-portico, and Kate cried most of the way home.
-
-‘I never saw anything like that,’ thought Bob; ‘and they used to be
-like brother and sister, almost.’
-
-It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned, and then he
-had to see the superintendent of police. The stranger who had passed
-through the toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
-far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he was taken. Kate’s
-Christmas party passed off more successfully because one of the invited
-guests had been almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
-wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the farmer’s wife came
-to tell of Mrs. Duffy’s morning visit, and her cheerful carols just
-before the villain met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
-over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas by going to
-bed with a very heavy heart.
-
-The next day the stranger was found and sworn to by Bob, though he
-flatly denied having been anywhere in the direction of the toll-bar.
-Neither Dr. Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
-passed on the farther side of the carriage while they were talking
-at the other window. He was an utter stranger in the neighbourhood,
-without friends, and he stated that he was on the tramp. A very old
-pistol was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy had been
-shot. The man was sent in safe custody to Lentford, to be brought face
-to face with the old woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
-to identify him and give her evidence against him.
-
-For twenty-four hours or more it continued very doubtful whether the
-poor old creature would ever rally. She had not spoken since she had
-been found, but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her hospital
-bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like the momentary glimmer of the
-sun on a cloudy day crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as
-if she were whispering. She knew when they were doing anything for her,
-for she tried to help herself, to raise her thin hand, or turn her grey
-head upon the pillow for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had known
-her in former days, spent as much time as he could beside her bed; and
-towards the close of the day, just before the night nurse was coming to
-take her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but very slowly
-and faintly, and he stooped over her to listen to what she said.
-
-‘Dr. Layard’s daughter! Dr. Layard’s daughter!’ she murmured.
-
-‘Would you like to see Dr. Layard’s daughter?’ asked Philip Carey, in
-his clearest and most pleasant tone.
-
-‘Ay, ay,’ whispered the old woman.
-
-‘To-morrow you shall,’ he said; ‘it is too late now. To-morrow.’
-
-‘Ay, ay,’ she assented, cheerfully.
-
-‘You will be better to-morrow,’ he suggested.
-
-‘No, no,’ murmured the old woman. ‘He shot me dead because I wouldn’t
-give him my shilling. He robbed me.’
-
-‘There’s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue sugar-paper in your
-pocket,’ said Dr. Carey. A sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor
-drawn face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.
-
-She was certainly somewhat better in the morning, and watching the
-people who were about her; her mind was clear, and she evidently knew
-her circumstances, where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
-noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy’s sunken blue eyes
-brightened, yet filled with tears, as she looked up into their faces
-bending pityingly above her.
-
-‘Well, old friend,’ said Dr. Layard, heartily, ‘you are better already.
-We are going to pull you through, you’ll see, Carey and me. We know
-what a tough old lady you are. Carey used to play you some tricks in
-the old times, and now he’ll make it up to you by pulling you through.
-Won’t you, Carey?’
-
-Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now she sat down, feeling
-weak and tremulous, on a chair at Mrs. Duffy’s head, keeping her eyes
-fixed upon the old woman’s face. Dr. Carey’s voice sounded oddly in her
-ears, as if he was speaking in very loud and constrained tones.
-
-‘I am going to do my best,’ he said, ‘but you must keep yourself quite
-still now, Mrs. Duffy, and get up your strength to tell the magistrate
-your story. You are a brave old woman, and won’t be afraid; and I’ll
-tell them you never told a lie in your life.’
-
-Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had not spoken yet, but she
-stretched out her hand, and tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey
-seemed to understand her meaning perfectly.
-
-‘You want Dr. Layard’s daughter to sit where you can see her?’ he said.
-‘You want her to stay with you?’
-
-‘Ay, ay,’ she answered. ‘God bless her!’
-
-It was Philip Carey who moved Kate’s chair, and placed it in a
-convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy to see her. She glanced at him
-once, but his eyes were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
-one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he and her father
-went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling now and then, closed her eyes
-and seemed to fall into a doze.
-
-It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward was a small one, containing
-only four beds, and no other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and
-had all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine was falling
-through the farthest window upon the bare white walls. Her mind was
-strangely divided between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
-was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken so kindly, even
-affectionately, to this poor, friendless old woman, but he had not
-spoken a word to her. How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel
-towards her? What reason or motive could possibly have made him change
-his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably, and plunge her into so much
-wretchedness and perplexity? She could not bear to meet him, yet she
-would have to bear it, for her father was so fond of him. How proud and
-happy her father would have been in him as his son in-law! It was too
-hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even have the misery some day
-of seeing his wife, the girl who had supplanted her, and made her life
-a blank. For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her ever
-to love another man. No one else could be to her what Philip Carey had
-been.
-
-The hour passed away, and there were several quiet signs of excitement.
-Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey came in, felt the old woman’s pulse, and gave
-her a cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she had better
-remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held her hand closely, and wished
-her to stay. Three or four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about
-the bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her story, which
-was written down, word for word, from her lips. She had not much to
-say, and it was soon over.
-
-‘Could you identify the individual?’ inquired the magistrate’s clerk.
-
-‘Should you know the man again?’ asked Dr. Carey, who was standing
-close to Kate, and near old Mrs. Duffy.
-
-‘Ay, to be sure,’ she answered, with more energy than she had displayed
-before.
-
-‘He has been taken;’ said Dr. Layard; ‘that is, a man has been taken
-up, and we think he is the man. You must see him yourself.’
-
-The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate’s hand tightly. It might have
-been Dr. Carey’s hand, for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
-answered to it.
-
-‘Come, come,’ he said, encouragingly, ‘you never used to be a coward;
-and you have only to open your eyes, and look at him. You have plenty
-of friends about you, you know.’
-
-‘He’s a dreadful man,’ she said, in a whisper, ‘but let him come.’
-
-Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as she listened to
-the regular tramp of the policeman, and the shambling tread of the
-murderer, coming down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
-closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful detective
-gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back of Kate’s chair, so close
-to her it almost touched her shoulder, and one of her brown curls
-fell upon it. The footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and
-stopped there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened glance.
-The murderer was a middle-aged man, with a full, heavy, red face, and
-light hair just turning grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole;
-he might have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for the
-drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was looking down at the
-wounded old woman with an air half sorrowful and half ashamed; but
-a little sullen also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
-policeman at his right hand was the only sign to mark him out as a
-criminal; and he seemed as much on the alert as if he expected him
-to make a second murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For a
-minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs. Duffy’s eyelids were
-closed, and her lips moved as if in prayer. She looked up at last; and
-her dim blue eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child who
-wakes frightened, changed like those of a child, when it sees that the
-face bending over it is a familiar face.
-
-‘Why,’ she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad, ‘it’s my boy! It’s
-my Johnny!’
-
-Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion, and she was about
-to raise herself up to stretch out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was
-quick enough to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at Kate’s
-feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the old woman. Every one
-else stood motionless and thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir
-hand or foot.
-
-‘That’s my son as went to Australy,’ continued Mrs. Duffy; ‘please
-let him come and kiss me. Don’t you know your poor old mother again,
-Johnny?’
-
-‘Oh, mother! mother!’ exclaimed the man, striking his hard hands
-together, ‘that’s my mother sir, as I came back to, and was looking
-for. I hadn’t seen her these thirty years, and she’s nothing like the
-woman she was. You’ll let me go and kiss her, maybe?’
-
-He had spoken to the policeman next to him, and his official eye was
-softened; but the magistrates were there, and the indulgence was not
-his to grant.
-
-‘Is this the person who attempted first to rob and then to murder you?’
-asked the magistrate’s clerk.
-
-‘Oh, dear no! it’s my boy,’ said the old woman; ‘he’d never shoot
-at his mother, bless you! It was quite a different man, not him; a
-dreadful man. That’s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers. He’d
-never lift up his hand agen me; please let him go.’
-
-There was no question in Mrs. Duffy’s mind as to whether she was
-telling the truth or not. Her gladness was so great that her mind
-utterly refused the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
-could have thought of robbing and murdering her. If he had been brought
-before her red-handed with her blood, she would still have believed
-herself mistaken. It was some ruffian and monster who had shot her, not
-her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot eyes were filled with tears,
-and his voice, as he began to speak, was choked and husky.
-
-‘Sir,’ he said, addressing no one in particular, ‘she’s not like the
-same woman, but she’s my mother. She had brown hair, and was very
-strong. I never thought of her being like that. I wish I’d kept free
-from drink. Nobody knows what drink’ll bring him to. She’s my mother;
-and I came back to work for her, if she were still alive. I’ll never
-taste a drop again as long’s I live.’
-
-‘Hush, hush!’ said Dr. Layard, coming behind him, and tapping him on
-the shoulder; ‘hold your tongue, my good fellow. You’ll make your
-mother worse again if you talk. There’s a good chance for her if she’s
-kept quiet.’
-
-The magistrates and their clerk walked away to the end of the ward, and
-held a short consultation there. There was not much doubt that this man
-was the right man; but there was no one to bring home the crime to him,
-except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard’s servant, swore positively that he
-was the man who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered; but
-the woman herself denied that it was he who had attacked her. To be
-sure there was more than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she
-persisted in it, what was to be done?
-
-‘You must remember you are upon your oath,’ said the elder magistrate,
-‘and probably upon your deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and
-tell me if he is not the man who shot at you.’
-
-Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling more and more, until her
-pale, shrunken face grew radiant with happiness.
-
-‘Why, it couldn’t be him,’ she said, ‘how could it? Ay, ay; I could
-swear it were never him; my Johnny. Please let him stay aside of me for
-a bit. The police may stop for him if you like; but he’d never do it.’
-
-‘Carey and I will be bail for him, if it’s necessary,’ said Dr.
-Layard, ‘only let the poor fellow shake hands with his mother. There,
-let him go.’
-
-The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman’s grasp, and
-sunk down on his knees at his mother’s feet, hiding his face in the
-bed-clothes, and sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time his
-mother’s eyes were shining upon him, and her arms, still kept firmly
-down by Dr. Carey, were trembling to touch him.
-
-The magistrates and their retinue went their way, leaving Mrs. Duffy
-with her son, while Kate and Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof
-from them, and from each other. The man crept closer and closer to his
-mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon her hand. There was a
-deep silence in the ward. Outside in the corridor, through the half
-open door, could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final orders.
-
-‘Mother,’ sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and faltering voice, ‘can
-you forgive me?’
-
-‘Why! there’s nothing to forgive, Johnny,’ she said, ‘and I’m so happy,
-I’d forgive everybody. I’d forgive the raskill as shot me. I have
-forgive him already, Johnny.’
-
-‘I want you to get well, mother,’ he said, with desperate earnestness,
-‘and I’ll make it all up to you. I’m come back to work for you, and
-indeed, I’ll work. Will you forgive me, mother?’
-
-‘Forgive you, Johnny!’ she murmured, ‘it’s a easy thing to forgive a
-body when you love a body.’
-
-The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable, from the old
-woman’s white lips, and Kate’s heart sank like lead. The withered face
-had grown paler, and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
-blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and Philip Carey turned
-quickly towards her.
-
-‘Is she going to die, Philip?’ asked Kate.
-
-‘She is very faint,’ he replied, ‘She has been too much excited, but
-she may rally yet. Go and send me a nurse, and do not return yourself.’
-
-Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears falling fast from her eyes.
-She was no longer grieving over her own troubles, but for the hopeful,
-cheery, brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son again in such
-a manner, and at such a moment as this. She waited in the matron’s
-parlour until a message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was sleeping
-again, with her son watching and waiting beside her. Then she returned
-home with her father.
-
-‘I’ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy’s the man,’ shouted Dr. Layard
-to her, above the noise of the train; ‘but the thing cannot be brought
-home to him. The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is
-labouring under a delusion. She no more believes that her son was the
-man who shot at her than I believe that you did it. I question whether
-she would believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he must
-not do. I’ve told him so. I said, “Duffy, I feel pretty sure you are
-the villain that did it, and if she dies I’ll do my best to prove it.
-But never you tell your mother it was yourself; it would go far to
-break her heart.” And he said, “I’ll never speak a word about it, one
-way or the other, sir.” Oh! Duffy did it!’
-
-‘Do you think she will die?’ asked Kate.
-
-‘Carey will do his best for her,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘I never saw such
-a change in a young fellow as there is in Carey. He is as dull as a
-beetle; just when he has got all he has been striving for, too! I don’t
-understand it.’
-
-Kate believed she understood it, but she kept silence. It was not
-likely he could feel happy and at ease in her presence or her father’s
-if he had a spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good deal of
-feeling. She had caught his eye once during the strange interview round
-Mrs. Duffy’s bed, and they had looked at one another with a sympathy
-which had seemed at the moment the most natural thing in the world.
-She had called him Philip, too! How her cheeks burned at the very
-recollection. She wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity
-of manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten herself, and
-it had been a happier moment than she had felt for these four weeks
-past. Perhaps utter forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.
-
-The next morning Kate was once more sitting alone before the fire in
-the breakfast-room, with nothing particular to do, until it was time
-to start for Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a large
-official-looking cover, with the words ‘Dead Letter Office’ printed
-upon it, and addressed ‘Miss Kate Layard, Ilverton.’ It was the first
-time in her life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
-packet. She opened it with some trepidation, and drew from it her own
-brief note to Philip Carey, written four weeks before. The envelope
-bore several postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
-after another--Liverpool, then Manchester, then London--but it was
-several minutes before she discovered how it had all happened. Her own
-handwriting lay before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
-she had directed her letter to ‘Dr. Carey, Everton Square, Liverpool.’
-
-How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead of Lentford she could
-never understand. It was true Philip had gone to Liverpool after
-leaving Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
-mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through as miserable a time as
-herself. He must have come to the conclusion that she did not care for
-him, and that she had not even the grace to thank him for the love he
-had bestowed upon her in vain. What could he have thought of her? It
-must have been a pain to him. She would make it up to him in some way.
-
-Kate’s brain was in a whirl all the way to Lentford. She walked up
-the broad steps of the hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
-porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly at her; and the
-students, hurrying along the broad corridors, took off their hats to
-Dr. Layard’s pretty daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
-a good-sized room, with benches round and across it, upon which were
-seated rows of poor patients, waiting humbly for their turn to go in
-and see the doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an inch or
-two, and Kate saw Philip Carey’s face, grave and care-worn, listening
-to a poor woman who was just going away by another entrance. She laid
-her hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in, and passed on
-into the room instead. ‘Philip,’ she said, her face flushing at his
-look of amazement, ‘I am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
-miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.’
-
-‘Wrote what?’ he asked, clasping the hand with which she offered him
-the misdirected letter, and holding both closely.
-
-‘I only wrote “Come,”’ stammered Kate, the tears starting into her
-eyes, ‘and I thought--oh, I don’t know what I thought! I directed it
-to Liverpool instead of Lentford, and it’s been wandering about ever
-since. Do you understand?’
-
-‘Do you mean you will be my wife?’ he asked.
-
-‘Yes,’ she answered.
-
-They had only three minutes to themselves. Three minutes was the time
-allotted for each case, and as it expired the door was opened again
-an inch or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next patient.
-Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and dismissed her with a glance
-which set her heart beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
-flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs. Duffy was lying as if
-she trod on air. The old woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her
-eyes calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red beginning
-to show itself upon her cheek. The good chance for her recovery was a
-still better one this morning.
-
-‘He’s coming back again this morning,’ she whispered in Kate’s ear;
-‘they let him stay beside me all yesterday, and he’s coming back again
-to-day. It’s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one like
-it. I hope they’ll never catch that poor raskill as shot me, I do. It
-’ud spoil my Christmas and Johnny’s if they did. Has it been a happy
-Christmas for you, my dear?’
-
-‘Very happy,’ answered Kate, with a bright smile, as the present joy
-blotted out the remembrance of the past sorrow.
-
-‘That’s right, my dear!’ murmured Mrs. Duffy, ‘I don’t know as ever I
-knew such a Christmas.’
-
-There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made his appearance at Dr.
-Layard’s that evening, and delighted him beyond measure by asking him
-for Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three years longer in
-undisturbed happiness, and in a degree of comfort to which she had been
-unaccustomed throughout her life. For her son, who had not prospered
-much in Australia, worked industriously and steadily to maintain her at
-home, and devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was not till
-after her death, when Kate Carey was standing beside her coffin looking
-down at the placid face and closed eyes of the old woman, that he told
-the story of his return home.
-
-‘I’d worked my passage across, ma’am,’ he said, the tears rolling down
-his cheeks, ‘and I’d landed in Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with
-as much as five pound in my pocket, all I’d saved in Australy; and
-there were a lot set on me, and took me to a public, and I suppose
-I drank all my wits away. I reached Ilverton by the last train on
-Christmas Eve, but I didn’t know as mother were gone to live in the
-town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a bench at the railway
-station. I hadn’t a penny left, when I set out to seek mother; and I
-were wandering about very miserable, when I saw a decent old woman
-coming along all alone. I only thought I’d frighten a shilling out of
-her. I never meant no harm. The pistol were an old pistol I’d had in
-the bush; and I didn’t recollect it was loaded, and it went bursting
-off, all in an instant of time. That quite brought me to, and I were
-running away to find somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming. I
-seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I found out it were my own
-poor old mother, which I did face to face with her in the hospital, I
-felt as I should die. She never knew as it were me, never. She used to
-talk about him, and say, “I forgave him, Johnny, and I hope God has
-forgave him too, whoever he is.” I shall never see another woman like
-my poor old mother.’
-
-
-  LONDON: PRINTED BY
-  SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
-  AND PARLIAMENT STREET
-
-
-
-
-WORKS BY HESBA STRETTON,
-
-AUTHOR OF ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.’
-
-
-  =I. CASSY.= Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
-  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
-
-    ‘The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching
-    kind, and the narrative, while free and graceful, is really of the
-    most compressed and masterly character.’--_Nonconformist._
-
-    ‘It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another
-    treat, as real to grown-up people as to children.’--_Church Herald._
-
-
-  =II. THE KING’S SERVANTS.= With Eight Illustrations. Thirtieth
-  Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
-
-  Part I. Faithful in Little.
-  Part II. Unfaithful.
-  Part III. Faithful in Much.
-
-    ‘The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly
-    told, and the religious purpose constantly kept in view.’
-    --_Watchman._
-
-    ‘An interesting story.’--_Church News._
-
-    ‘The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a
-    living power likely to carry it home to the hearts of all who read
-    it.’--_Freeman._
-
-
-  =III. LOST GIP.= Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
-  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
-
-    ‘Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.’--_Echo._
-
-    ‘One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.’--_Brighton
-    Gazette._
-
-
-  =IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.= Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo. 2_s._ 6_d._
-
-  This little book is intended to present the result of close
-  investigations made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous
-  narrative, suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for
-  those who have not the leisure or the books needed for threading
-  together the fragmentary and scattered incidents recorded in the four
-  Gospels.
-
-    ‘A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the
-    wonderful story with a forcible simplicity that will appeal to all
-    readers.’--_Hour._
-
-    ‘Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the
-    Sunday-school, and is also suitable for a Sunday-school
-    prize.’--_Church Review._
-
-    ‘The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.’--_Rock._
-
-    ‘It is invaluable.’--_Sunday-School Quarterly Journal._
-
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
-
-
-
-
-A LIST OF
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO.’S
-
-BOOKS SUITABLE FOR
-
-CHILDREN’S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.
-
-
-_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
-comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History, Education,
-Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis on application._
-
-
-  =SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES=, for Home Reading and Cottage
-  Meetings. By Mrs. G. S. REANEY.
-
-  CONTAINING:--
-
-  ‘Little Meggie’s Home,’
-  ‘Aggie’s Christmas,’
-  ‘Sermon in Baby’s Shoes,’
-  ‘Lina.’
-
-  Small square, uniform with ‘Lost Gip,’ &c. Three Illustrations. Price
-  1_s_. 6_d._
-
-
-  =DADDIE’S PET.= By Mrs. ELLEN ROSS (‘Nelsie Brook’). A Sketch from
-  Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with ‘Lost Gip.’ With Six
-  Illustrations. 1_s._
-
-    ‘We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of
-    writing.’--_Christian World._
-
-    ‘Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.’--_Brighton
-    Gazette._
-
-    ‘A very pretty tale.’--_John Bull._
-
-    ‘A pretty little story for children.’--_Scotsman._
-
-    ‘An exceedingly pretty little story.’--_Literary Churchman._
-
-
-  =LOCKED OUT=: A Tale of the Strike. By ELLEN BARLEE. With a
-  Frontispiece. 1_s._ 6_d._
-
-    ‘Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial
-    libraries, whether in country or in town.’--_Literary Churchman._
-
-    ‘Well written.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of BOOKS for
-JUVENILES._
-
-
-Works by the Author of ‘St. Olave’s,’ ‘When I was a Little Girl,’ &c.
-
-
-  =I. AUNT MARY’S BRAN PIE.= Illustrated.
-
-    ‘A bright story for children.’--_Globe._
-
-    ‘The stories are exceedingly good.’--_Nonconformist._
-
-    ‘Capital stories.’--_Hour._
-
-    ‘This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of
-    the season.’--_Literary World._
-
-
-  =II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.= Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.
-
-
-  =BRAVE MEN’S FOOTSTEPS.= A Book of Example and Anecdote for
-  Young People. By the Editor of ‘Men who have Risen.’ With Four
-  Illustrations by C. DOYLE. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
-
-  The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
-  character, and their operation under different forms of effort.
-  Success is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.
-
-    ‘The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of
-    those who, in choosing a gift for a boy, would consult his moral
-    development as well as his temporary pleasure.’--_Daily Telegraph._
-
-    ‘A readable and instructive volume.’--_Examiner._
-
-    ‘A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved
-    success.’--_Spectator._
-
-
-Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.
-
-
-  =I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.= With Eleven Illustrations.
-  Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who
-    meddles always with a kindly disposition with other people’s
-    affairs, and helps them to do right. There are many shrewd lessons
-    to be picked up in this clever little story.’--_Public Opinion._
-
-    ‘Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so
-    well how to produce.’--_Leeds Mercury._
-
-    ‘Original, faithful, and humorous story.’--_Manchester Examiner._
-
-
-  =II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.= With Ten Illustrations by J. MAHONEY.
-  Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our
-    boys and girls.’--_Hour._
-
-    ‘A very attractive story.’--_Public Opinion._
-
-    ‘A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest
-    interest.’--_Leeds Mercury._
-
-    ‘Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much
-    useful knowledge of natural history. The story is told in a
-    pleasant, chatty style.’--_Standard._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-  =PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN=; with some Lessons in
-  Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By SARA COLERIDGE. A New Edition. Illustrated.
-
-    ‘Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little
-    folk through what has been called “the bitterness of
-    learning.”’--_Saturday Review._
-
-    ‘This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book
-    for children. It teaches us many a good moral, many a good
-    common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which are, for the most part,
-    very musical to the ear.’--_Standard._
-
-
-  =THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.= By Colonel E. P. DE L’HOSTE.
-  Translated from the French of Eugène Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an
-  Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.
-
-    ‘There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest
-    heroism; unpretentious religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a
-    household brought up in the fear of the Lord.’--_Illustrated London
-    News._
-
-    ‘It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious
-    liberty of a real man.’--_Graphic._
-
-    ‘It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little
-    book will not prove attractive.’--_London Quarterly._
-
-
-Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.
-
-    =I. ELSIE DINSMORE.= Crown 8vo.
-   =II. ELSIE’S GIRLHOOD.= Crown 8vo.
-  =III. ELSIE’S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.= Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is
-    portrayed in three different volumes. By the help, however, of the
-    illustrations, and by dips here and there, we can safely give a
-    favourable account.’--_Westminster Review._
-
-    ‘Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers.
-    In the above three pretty volumes her story is complete, and
-    it is one full of youthful experiences, winning a general
-    interest.’--_Athenæum._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-  =THE DESERTED SHIP.= A Real Story of the Atlantic. By CUPPLES HOWE,
-  Master Mariner. Illustrated by TOWNLEY GREEN. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and
-    with scarcely more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with
-    which the story deals, and will much interest boys who have a spice
-    of romance in their composition.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
-
-    ‘It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended,
-    yet stirring events, which please a boy, more than any other
-    quality.’--_Edinburgh Daily Review._
-
-
-  =THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.= By JEAN INGELOW. A Second Series of
-  ‘Stories told to a Child.’ With Fifteen Illustrations. Square 24mo.
-
-    ‘We like all the contents of the “Little Wonder-Horn” very
-    much.’--_Athenæum._
-
-    ‘We recommend it with confidence.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
-
-    ‘Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of
-    some of the best of our modern verse.’--_Standard._
-
-
-  =GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. With
-  Nine Illustrations by ARTHUR HUGHES. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story
-    through five times. Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept
-    that verdict upon his little work as final.’--_Spectator._
-
-
-  =PLUCKY FELLOWS.= A Book for Boys. By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. With Nine
-  Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘This is one of the very best “Books for Boys” which have been
-    issued this year.’--_Morning Advertiser._
-
-    ‘A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly,
-    straightforward manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the
-    children.’--_London Society._
-
-
-  =LITTLE MINNIE’S TROUBLES=: an Every-day Chronicle. By N. R.
-  D’ANVERS. Illustrated by W. H. HUGHES. Fcp. 8vo.
-
-
-  =THE AFRICAN CRUISER.= A Midshipman’s Adventures on the West Coast.
-  By S. W. SADLER, R.N., Author of ‘Marshall Vavasour.’ A Book for
-  Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will
-    find few pleasanter gift-books this season than “The African
-    Cruiser.”’--_Hour._
-
-    ‘Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this,
-    written in a brisk style by a thorough sailor, is crammed full of
-    adventures.’--_Times._
-
-
-  =SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.= Crown 8vo. With Four
-  Illustrations.
-
-  CONTENTS:--Seeking his Fortune--Oluf and Stephanoff--What’s in a
-  Name?--Contrast--Onesta.
-
-    ‘These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise
-    detailed manner which we are sure young people like.’--_Spectator._
-
-    ‘They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound
-    and generous moral.... We can answer for it that this volume will
-    find favour with those for whom it is written, and that the sisters
-    will like it quite as well as the brothers.’--_Athenæum._
-
-
-  =SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.= Illustrated with Nine Etchings.
-
-  CONTENTS:--
-
-  Mermaid.
-  Little Hans.
-  Dimple.
-  The Two Princes.
-  Specklesides.
-  Black Sneid.
-  Little Curly.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING BOOKS FOR JUVENILES._
-
-
-  =MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN’S LAND.= By JAMES BONWICK.
-  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
-
-  This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as
-  to the leading incidents of the Bushranger’s career. The tale may
-  therefore be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.
-
-    ‘He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and
-    this he does in a highly creditable manner. His delineations of life
-    in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite, and his
-    representations of character are very marked.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
-
-
-  =THE TASMANIAN LILY.= By JAMES BONWICK. Crown 8vo. With Frontispiece.
-
-    ‘An interesting and useful work.’--_Hour._
-
-    ‘The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full
-    of those touches which give them a natural appearance.’--_Public
-    Opinion._
-
-
-Two Works by DAVID KER.
-
-
-  =I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.= A Tale of Central Asia. Crown 8vo.
-  With Illustrations.
-
-  In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero; genuine
-  information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of a mere
-  dry statistical report.
-
-    ‘Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate
-    the story, has a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of
-    courage and ability, from a state of slavery to one of independence.
-    Will prove attractive to boys.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
-
-    ‘Exciting boy’s story, well told and abounding in incidents.’
-    --_Hour._
-
-    ‘Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the
-    end.’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘An attractive boy’s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes
-    round an imaginary hero.’--_Spectator._
-
-
-  =II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.= Crown 8vo. Illustrated.
-
-                                                            [_Just out._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-  =RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL FIELD CLUB.= A Book for Boys.
-  By G. C. DAVIES.
-
-
-  =FANTASTIC STORIES.= By RICHARD LEANDER. Translated from the German
-  by PAULINA B. GRANVILLE. With Eight full-page Illustrations by M. E.
-  FRASER-TYTLER. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal
-    with all manner of subjects.’--_Guardian._
-
-    ‘“Fantastic” is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of
-    these strange tales.’--_Examiner._
-
-    ‘Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of
-    Paris.’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘“The Knight who grew Rusty” is a delightful story, but “The
-    Queen who could not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could
-    not play on the Jew’s harp,” will probably be the children’s
-    favourite.’--_Daily News._
-
-
-  =THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.= By JACOB DE LIEFDE. Crown 8vo. With
-  Eleven Illustrations by TOWNLEY GREEN and others.
-
-    ‘A wholesome present for boys.’--_Athenæum._
-
-    ‘A really good book.’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘A really excellent book.’--_Spectator._
-
-
-  =HER TITLE OF HONOUR=: a Book for Girls. By HOLME LEE. New Edition.
-  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
-
-    ‘It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee’s, for they are
-    well known, and all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds
-    even our favourites, not perhaps as a story, for this is of the
-    simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story
-    is united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because,
-    also, it is a careful and beautiful piece of writing, and is full of
-    studies of refined and charming character.’--_Spectator._
-
-    ‘It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as
-    valuable as it is rare.’--_Standard._
-
-
-  =AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.= By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. Crown 8vo.
-  With Six Illustrations.
-
-    ‘Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military
-    adventure.... Boys will find them sufficiently exciting
-    reading.’--_Times._
-
-    ‘These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of
-    soldiering in various parts of the world.’--_Spectator._
-
-    ‘Mr. MacKenna’s former work, “Plucky Fellows,” is already a
-    general favourite, and those who read the stories of the Old
-    Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of materials at hand
-    for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them
-    well.’--_Standard._
-
-
-  =WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD.= By Mrs. G. S.
-  REANEY. With a Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘A good tale--good in composition, good in style, good in
-    purpose.’--_Nonconformist._
-
-    ‘The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good
-    and important one.’--_Rock._
-
-
-  =SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.= From Russian, Servian, Polish, and Bohemian
-  Sources. By JOHN T. NAAKE, of the British Museum. With Four
-  Illustrations. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original
-    national ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands
-    besides children. Yet children will eagerly open the pages, and not
-    willingly close them, of the pretty volume.’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with
-    eleven Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight
-    Russian and thirteen Servian, in Mr. Naake’s modest but serviceable
-    collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents are, as a general
-    rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which
-    deserves cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got
-    up volume, we ought to mention that its contents fully come up to
-    the promise held out in its preface.’--_Academy._
-
-
-  =STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.= By HELEN ZIMMERN. With Six
-  Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
-
-    ‘A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural,
-    and pleasantly quaint, as befits stories intended for the young.’
-    --_Daily Telegraph._
-
-    ‘A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate,
-    and which will remind its readers of many a legend, and many
-    an imaginary virtue attached to the gems they are so fond of
-    wearing.’--_Post._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-  =THE BETTER SELF.= By J. HAIN FRISWELL. Essays for Home Life. Crown
-  8vo. 6_s._
-
-  CONTENTS:--
-
-  Beginning at Home
-  The Girls at Home
-  The Wife’s Mother
-  Pride in the Family
-  Discontent and Grumbling
-  Domestic Economy
-  Likes and Dislikes
-  On Keeping People Down
-  On Falling Out Peace
-
-    ‘A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as
-    sound and wholesome as it is noble and elevated.’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without
-    becoming a bore.’--_City Press._
-
-
-  =BY STILL WATERS.= By EDWARD GARRETT. A Story for Quiet Hours. Crown
-  8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6_s._
-
-    ‘We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has
-    pleased us so well as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed
-    us.’--_Nonconformist._
-
-    ‘Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to
-    meet. His stories are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and
-    there is about them a rare atmosphere of not unpleasing meditative
-    melancholy.’--_Echo._
-
-
-  =BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.= By MARY M. HOWARD, Author of
-  ‘Brampton Rectory.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
-
-    ‘These tales possess considerable merit.’--_Court Journal._
-
-    ‘A neat and chatty little volume.’--_Hour._
-
-
-  =OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.= By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A., Author of
-  ‘Saturn and its Systems,’ ‘The Universe,’ ‘The Expanse of Heaven,’
-  &c. To which are added, ‘Essays on Astrology’ and ‘The Jewish
-  Sabbath.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
-
-
-  =THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.= A Series of Essays on the Wonders of the
-  Firmament. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A. With a Frontispiece. Second
-  Edition. Crown 8vo. 6_s._
-
-    ‘A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader’s mind up
-    “through nature’s work to nature’s God.”’--_Standard._
-
-    ‘Full of thought, readable, and popular.’--_Brighton Gazette._
-
-
-  =PHANTASMION.= A Fairy Romance. By SARA COLERIDGE. With an
-  Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord COLERIDGE, of Ottery S.
-  Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._
-
-  This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
-  long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience
-  and a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination,
-  melody of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity
-  of conception.
-
-    ‘The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a
-    time in a veritable region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of
-    unreality, and surrounded by supernatural beings.’--_Morning Post._
-
-    ‘This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice
-    the length, closing the book with a feeling of regret that the
-    repast was at an end.’--_Vanity Fair._
-
-    ‘A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.’--_Examiner._
-
-
-  =ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.= By HARRIETT PARR. Crown 8vo. 8_s._ 6_d._
-
-  The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
-  young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
-  the great struggle.
-
-    ‘Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and
-    if children are not interested in her book, many of their seniors
-    will be.’--_British Quarterly Review._
-
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
-
-
-
-
-POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.
-
-
-  =LYRICS OF LOVE=, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected and arranged
-  by W. DAVENPORT ADAMS, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth extra, gilt edges, 3_s._
-  6_d._
-
-  The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in
-  these particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems.
-  (2) That each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and
-  (3) That it includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as
-  of the earliest writers.
-
-
-  =HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.= By the Rev. Canon R. H. BAYNES, Editor
-  of ‘Lyra Anglicana,’ &c. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra,
-  3_s._ 6_d._
-
-  A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
-  various members of Christ’s Church Militant here on earth.
-
-    ‘A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high
-    standard of excellence. The pieces are short, mostly original,
-    and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent spirit of
-    devotion.’--_Standard._
-
-
-  =POEMS.= By WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
-  bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author. 7_s._ 6_d._
-
-  A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3_s._ 6_d._
-
-  These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
-  and they contain several of the Author’s Poems which have not appeared
-  in any previous Collection.
-
-    ‘Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained
-    the fame and position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer
-    than William Cullen Bryant.’--_Academy._
-
-
-  =ENGLISH SONNETS.= Collected and Arranged by JOHN DENNIS. Fcap. 8vo.
-  Elegantly bound. 3_s._ 6_d._
-
-  This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the
-  Elizabethan to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of
-  poetry, and not only for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in
-  order to pass away an idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words
-  of Marlowe, ‘infinite riches in a little room.’
-
-    ‘An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry
-    will consult again and again with delight. The notes are very
-    useful.... The volume is one for which English literature owes Mr.
-    Dennis the heartiest thanks.’--_Spectator._
-
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
-
-
-
-
-_W. C. BENNETT’S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS._
-
-
-A LIBRARY EDITION. Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6_s._
-
-  =BABY MAY=--HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People’s Edition, in Two Parts,
-  paper covers, 1_s._ each.
-
-    ‘One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every
-    mother ought to learn “Baby May” and “Baby’s Shoes” off by
-    heart.’--_Westminster Review._
-
-    ‘The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
-    much naïve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.’--_Examiner._
-
-    ‘Those readers who do not as yet know “Baby May” should make her
-    acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will
-    find her in good company.’--_Guardian._
-
-    ‘Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
-    his pages.’--_Athenæum._
-
-    ‘“Baby’s Shoes” is worthy to rank with “Baby May,” which, from its
-    completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one
-    of the most exquisite among Dr. Bennett’s productions.’--_Daily
-    Telegraph._
-
-    ‘Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
-    language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.’--_Weekly Dispatch._
-
-
-  =SONGS FOR SAILORS.= Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3_s._ 6_d._; paper
-  covers, 1_s._
-
-    ‘Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic’--_Morning Post._
-
-    ‘Very spirited.’--_Daily News._
-
-    ‘Really admirable.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
-
-    ‘Right well done.’--_Illustrated London News._
-
-    ‘Sure of a wide popularity.’--_Morning Advertiser._
-
-    ‘Songs that sailors most enjoy.’--_Echo._
-
-    ‘Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.’--_Examiner._
-
-    ‘We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
-    Dibdin.’--_Graphic._
-
-
-HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
-
-
-
-
-TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
-
-
-  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
-
-  Emboldened text is surrounded by equals signs: =bold=.
-
-  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
-
-  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM
-FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
-United States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
-  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-  most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the
-  United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
-  you are located before using this eBook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that:
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
-  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
-  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
-  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
-  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
-  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
-  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
-  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
-  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
-  Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
-  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
-  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
-  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
-  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
-  works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
-  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
-  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
-  receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
-  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
-widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65830 ***
+
+TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
+
+
+
+
+By the Author of ‘Jessica’s First Prayer.’
+
+_Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with Frontispiece._
+
+Price Sixpence each
+
+
+  FRIENDS TILL DEATH.
+  THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON.  1 vol.
+  MICHEL LORIO’S CROSS.
+  OLD TRANSOME.
+
+  For a list of other Works by the same Author,
+  see the Catalogue at the end of this work.
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine.’
+
+                                                 _See page 24._]
+
+
+
+
+  TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
+
+  _SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK_
+
+  _A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND
+  A HAPPY NEW YEAR_
+
+
+  BY
+  HESBA STRETTON
+
+  AUTHOR OF
+  ‘LOST GIP’ ‘CASSY’ ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER’ ETC.
+
+
+  WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  _HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON_
+  1876
+
+
+(_All rights reserved_)
+
+
+
+
+SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK.
+
+
+If any one had told Sam Franklin before he married that he would ever
+save money out of his wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn;
+they had never been more than enough when he had only himself to keep,
+and when there was a wife into the bargain, what chance would there be
+for him to have a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
+many weeks, he had made the discovery that the wages which had only
+been enough for one were rather more than enough for two. There were no
+dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long evenings spent in the
+public-houses, no laundresses’ bills to meet. He had a great deal more
+comfort with a somewhat smaller outlay.
+
+When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over and above the sum he
+allowed his wife for housekeeping and rent, he hardly knew what to do
+with it. His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did not care to
+leave it for the tavern. He and his wife were living on the first-floor
+of a house in a decent, quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans
+like himself, though the houses were from three to four stories high,
+and had been built for richer people. They had a sitting-room, with
+a bedroom behind it, and the use of a back kitchen for cooking and
+washing; so the place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann Franklin
+had notions of cleanliness and smartness, which made her take great
+pride in herself and all her belongings. The parlour, as she liked it
+to be called, was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
+had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise and smoke of a
+public-house taproom.
+
+What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown? It doubled itself
+into five shillings, and by-and-by a golden half-sovereign lay among
+the silver and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was a man
+of few words--a close man, his comrades called him--and silent as
+the grave concerning his own affairs. Had he told one of them when
+he was about to be married? Not his best friend amongst them! Had he
+mentioned it as a piece of news interesting to himself that he had a
+son born? Never! He despised men who could not keep a still tongue
+in their heads, but must prate about all they did or thought. Even
+with his wife he was sparing of words, though he liked her to tell him
+everything she did, and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was only
+a woman; a man should have more control over his tongue.
+
+So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his savings, though they
+seemed to grow like seed sown in good ground. Every week he gave his
+wife the sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the best of it
+cheerfully, letting him know how every penny was spent, and sometimes
+wondering to him how his comrades’ wives managed to be so much smarter
+than she was. At first he had thoughts of buying her a new bonnet or
+shawl, but he scarcely liked to own that he had been keeping back
+the money from her. This difficulty became greater as the sum grew
+larger; and, besides that, the possession of it began to get a hold
+upon him. It gave to him a secret consciousness of wealth among his
+fellow-workmen, which was very pleasant for a time; but by-and-by this
+feeling passed away, and a strange, unaccountable dread of being poor
+took possession of him. He began to talk about bad times, and the high
+prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses of a family, though
+his own consisted of his cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But
+this change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither himself
+nor his wife had any idea what was going on. He spent his evenings
+at home, and went nearly every Sunday to the place of worship which
+Ann and Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud of her tall,
+fine-looking husband, whose clothes she kept in such good order that he
+looked, in her eyes at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
+say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann was too true a
+wife to let it be said in her presence. He was industrious and steady,
+and kind to her and the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
+both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the bad times, not
+her husband’s.
+
+When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and had two Bank of England
+notes to take care of, his difficulty and perplexity had very much
+increased. There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had no faith
+in the old savings-banks, for he could remember how his poor old
+mother had lost every penny of her painful savings by the breaking of
+the one she had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about it,
+after keeping such a secret so long. The money became a trouble to
+him, though perhaps it was his most cherished possession. Certainly he
+thought of it oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
+it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he took it to the
+work-yard with him he was fearful of losing it, whilst if he left it
+at home he was quite as much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it
+would alter the face of things if she discovered that he was the owner
+of all that money, and had never told her!
+
+At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty pounds, a bright idea
+struck him one day. He stayed at home the next Sunday evening, and
+having found his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a good
+strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part of one of the seams
+large enough to take in a folded bank-note, and spread them as high as
+he could reach with his finger up and down the breast of it. He could
+not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been sewn before, but he
+was obliged to trust to Ann not noticing it, for it was a worn-out
+waistcoat and past her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
+first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat buttoned across
+it.
+
+‘Good gracious, Sam!’ she cried, ‘whatever made you put on that old
+thing?’
+
+‘It’s warmer than any I’ve got,’ he answered, putting his hand up
+against the breast of it where the bank-notes lay safe and hidden.
+
+‘It’s so old-fashioned,’ she said, discontentedly; ‘but it doesn’t
+matter much if you won’t go out of doors in it. Men have no notion of
+things.’
+
+‘What was the text, Ann?’ he inquired, simply to turn away her
+attention from the old waistcoat.
+
+‘Oh! it hadn’t anything to do with us,’ she replied, more cheerfully;
+‘it was, ‘The love of money is the root of all evil.’ Nothing for us in
+that, you know, though the preacher did say we might love it as much
+from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have it, nor crave
+it.’
+
+Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any further remark. He told
+his wife he should always put on his old waistcoat when he came in
+from his work; and he continued to do so regularly for some time, then
+occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat simply hung on a nail
+behind the bedroom door, only being taken down once a week by Ann, to
+have the dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had another note
+to add to those he had already secured; and he became so skilled in
+opening and sewing the seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing
+any difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy Sunday, feeling
+a deep satisfaction in his admirable scheme for concealing and taking
+care of his savings.
+
+Month after month, and year after year, the old waistcoat kept his
+secret faithfully. His eyes rested upon it first thing in the morning
+and last thing at night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
+there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever, grudging his wife
+her bits of blue and pink ribbon, with which she made herself smart,
+and altogether refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
+sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had paid hitherto at a
+dame’s-school. He was longing to make up fifty pounds; he had already
+forty-five in his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds sounded
+than forty-five!
+
+He had between three and four pounds towards this very desirable end,
+when one night, upon his return from work, he went as usual into the
+back room to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards the
+familiar object behind the door. But it was not there! The place was
+bare, and the nail empty. The mere sight of an empty nail in that place
+filled him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away in some
+drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was broken and tremulous.
+
+‘Where have you put my old waistcoat?’ he asked. He could hear her
+pouring the boiling water over the tea in the next room, and she did
+not answer before clicking down the lid of the teapot.
+
+‘Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,’ she answered, in a cheerful
+voice, ‘so I made a right good bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an
+old-clothesman.’
+
+The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as if he had received a
+heavy blow, and fell on the floor. He did not quite lose his senses,
+for he felt Ann trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
+him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and sit down on the foot
+of the bed, but still he found himself giddy and stunned.
+
+‘Where is it?’ he cried, bursting into tears and sobs, like a child;
+‘where is it?’
+
+‘The old waistcoat?’ she asked, thinking he was gone out of his mind.
+
+‘Yes!’ he said. ‘There was nine five-pound notes in it; forty-five
+pounds in Bank of England notes!’
+
+At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by his fall, and he was
+rambling; but as he kept on moaning over his loss, and confessing how
+he had concealed the notes from her, she began to believe him, and all
+the sooner when he pulled out the three sovereigns he had saved towards
+the tenth note and flung them on the floor in angry despair.
+
+‘And I don’t know the man from Adam!’ cried Ann. ‘I never saw him
+before; and he’ll take very good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam!
+how could you? how could you keep it a secret all these years, when
+I never bought as much as a yard of ribbon or a collar on the sly? I
+can’t forgive it, or forget it either.’
+
+She felt it very hard that Sam should not have trusted her. The loss
+of the money was hard, and she could not help thinking what a large sum
+it was, and what it might have done for Johnny. But the loss of faith
+in her husband was ten times worse. How could she ever believe in him
+again? or how could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
+trusted her?
+
+It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed his money so bitterly
+that Ann began to fancy he would rather have lost her or his child. She
+sat silent and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost raving
+with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him the next morning before
+he set off to the yard, though she knew he had lain awake all night
+like herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast. It was a
+cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling the air. Sam was wet
+through before he reached his work, and there was no chance of drying
+his clothes. He was wet through when he came home, but there were no
+dry, warm things laid out for him. He might wait upon himself, thought
+Ann; it would be well for him to see the difference between a good wife
+and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a change of clothing for
+himself, and he sat shivering on the hearth all night, in spite of the
+warm, cheerful blaze of the bright fire.
+
+By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin was compelled to knock
+off work. Severe rheumatic fever had set in, and the doctor said he
+must not expect to get back to the yard for three months or more.
+Perhaps it was the best thing that could have befallen him, for it
+brought back all the old warm love for him to his wife’s heart, which
+had been grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of trust in
+her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying a word to blame him now he
+could not get out of her way, as many wives would have done. Before
+his illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her own best
+clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere necessaries of life. Never
+had Sam Franklin thought his wife would have to go day after day to the
+pawn-shop; but she did it so cheerfully that half of the sting of it
+was taken away.
+
+‘Nancy,’ he said, one morning, ‘all night long I’ve had a text ringing
+in my head, ‘You cannot serve God and mammon,’ ‘You cannot serve God
+and mammon!’ Why, I used to think I was doing God a service when I put
+on my Sunday clothes and went to church of a Sunday morning with you.
+As if He’d think that were serving Him! And then all the week I was
+worshipping that old waistcoat of mine hanging behind the door, as much
+as any poor heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I begin to think
+it was God who put it in your heart to sell it to the old-clothesman.
+But how can I serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can’t do anything save
+lie in this bed and be a burden to you.’
+
+Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband, whispering, ‘I don’t
+mind a bit about you being a burden, as you call it;’ and after that
+she opened a Bible and read these words: ‘Then said they unto him, What
+shall we do, that we may work the works of God? Jesus answered and said
+unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom he hath
+sent.’
+
+‘Ay! I see it,’ he said, after a long pause, ‘that’s a work I can begin
+better here, perhaps, than in the yard at my work. I can work for God
+that way, lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And now I come
+to think of it, Jesus Christ never served mammon anyway, and if I
+believe in Him I shall try to be like Him. It’s no use praying to God
+on Sundays and doing contrary all the week, wailing after money and
+such like.’
+
+‘Sam,’ answered his wife, ‘I’ve not been believing in him as I ought,
+for I’ve been fretting after that old waistcoat ever so, thinking how
+useful the money would be now; but if you’ll help me I’ll help you, and
+we’ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we could see him coming
+into the room and talking to us.’
+
+‘But that would be seeing, not believing.’
+
+‘So it would,’ she answered, ‘and he said himself, “Blessed are they
+that have not seen, and yet have believed.” We must trust in Him
+without seeing Him.’
+
+But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all their possessions
+were disappearing one after another. Sam was a long while in fully
+recovering his strength; and when he was fit to go back to the yard
+they were pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so happy
+in former days. Their simple faith in the Saviour gave them a peace
+different from anything they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had
+now no secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind, grew
+frank and open with his wife. They pinched and denied themselves to
+get out of debt; and when the next winter came they were again in the
+comfortable circumstances which had been theirs when Ann sold the
+valuable old waistcoat.
+
+‘Sam,’ said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day, ‘Johnny’s been
+putting threepence a week into the school club. He’s got as much as
+nine shillings in, and he’s to have twopence a shilling added to it if
+we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the nine shillings out if
+we like. Come home in time to go with us to the school to-night.’
+
+‘Ay, ay!’ said Sam, heartily, ‘I’ll go with Johnny to get his little
+fortune.’
+
+It was quite dark in the evening when the three started off for the
+school where the weekly pence were paid in. But as they locked their
+parlour-door and turned into the street, they saw a girl about Johnny’s
+age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her head, standing on the outer
+door-sill, shivering and crying, as she looked at the dismal night,
+with flakes of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her well;
+she was the little girl belonging to the tenant of the attic two floors
+above them. Ann had often given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny
+to take to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her into their
+parlour, because she was too dirty and ragged. Now, as the child stood
+crying and shivering on the door-step, her heart smote her for her want
+of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her gently.
+
+‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
+
+‘Father says I must go and beg,’ she answered, crying more bitterly,
+‘and I’m frightened, and it’s so bitter cold. But we must pay our rent,
+he says, or be turned out, and he doesn’t know where to go to, and is
+very ill, coughin’ ever so. We owe for three weeks now, that’s nine
+shillings, and I don’t know where I’m to beg for nine shillings.’
+
+‘There’s all the coppers I’ve got,’ said Sam putting three or four
+pence in her hand, and hurrying on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the
+girl pattered after them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
+did not speak again till they reached the school, but once or twice
+she looked back and saw the little ragged figure following them. There
+was no one in the school room except themselves and the gentleman who
+was ready to receive their payment and give them the ticket for buying
+clothes to the value of ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could
+write out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin, care-worn
+little face peering in through the window.
+
+‘Oh, Sam,’ she cried, ‘we don’t want it so badly after all, and I think
+if it belonged to Him, Jesus Christ, he would give it to the poor man
+up in the attic to pay his rent with. Don’t you think he would?’
+
+‘But it’s Johnny’s little fortune,’ said Sam, ‘and we should lose one
+and sixpence if we took it out for that.’
+
+‘Johnny ’ud be glad to give it to poor little Bell?’ asked Ann, with
+her hand on the boy’s shoulder.
+
+‘Yes, mother, for little Bell,’ he said readily.
+
+‘Johnny’s clothes are warm, if they’re shabby,’ pursued Ann, ‘and
+there’s that poor little creature in rags, and barefoot. My heart aches
+for her, Sam. If it were our boy, and they’d nine shillings they didn’t
+want badly, what should we like them to do?’
+
+‘Well, Ann, I give up,’ he said; ‘after all, it’s your savings, not
+mine.’
+
+Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That man in the attic was
+very probably a drunken vagabond, and deserved to be turned out for not
+paying his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a year, and had
+been quiet enough, meddling with nobody, and not putting himself in
+anybody’s way. Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and then
+he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping figure, with a shabby
+old coat buttoned up to the throat, as if the man had no shirt to wear.
+Anyhow it was Ann’s business, and if any wife deserved to have her own
+way in a thing like this, it was his wife.
+
+Ann picked up the money, which was counted out to her, with a pleasant
+smile upon her face. It was snowing very fast when they opened the
+school-room door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
+pressed against the window and one foot drawn up out of the snow to
+keep it warmer. Ann called to her, and she ran quickly towards them.
+
+‘I prayed to God for the money this morning,’ she said, looking
+wistfully up into Ann’s smiling face, ‘but He couldn’t have heard me,
+for He never sent it.’
+
+‘He’s going to send it now,’ answered Ann.
+
+‘Will an angel come with it?’ she asked.
+
+‘Ay!’ answered Sam, stooping down and lifting the child in his arms,
+for he was quite strong again, and she was too thin and puny to be much
+weight. He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and if Ann
+was going to do them a good turn, why should he not do another?
+
+‘An angel with shining, white clothes on, and wings?’ said little Bell.
+
+‘No; she’s wearing an old bonnet and a faded shawl,’ answered Sam, ‘and
+her wings aren’t grown yet, I’m glad to say.’
+
+‘For shame, Sam!’ cried his wife; but she was glad to hear from his
+voice that he was agreeing heartily with her self-denial. It was not
+far back to their home, but instead of turning into their own pleasant
+room they all marched up two flights of stairs to the attic.
+
+It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted by a skylight, of
+which two or three of the panes were broken, and a few stray snowflakes
+were floating in, and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
+old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in it; and in one
+corner lay a hard mattress, on which they could see in the dim light
+the figure of a man, barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted
+up his head to speak to them a racking cough choked him, and it was a
+minute or two before he could utter a word.
+
+‘We’ve been your neighbours a long while,’ said Ann, gently, ‘and I’m
+ashamed I never came to see you before. We’ve brought little Bell home,
+for it’s a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up person,
+scarcely.’
+
+‘But the landlord says he’ll turn us out to-morrow,’ gasped the sick
+man.
+
+‘No! no!’ answered Ann; ‘that’s all right. We’ve got the money ready
+for him, and now we’ll make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
+and bring me a light, that’s a good fellow.’
+
+‘I’m not going to live long,’ said the stranger, ‘and I’m afraid of
+being turned out, but I can never pay you back again. There’s no more
+work in me, and my money’s done; I can’t pay you.’
+
+‘Never mind,’ she answered, ‘we’re only doing as we’d be done by, so
+don’t you worry about it. Here’s Sam coming with a candle; and now I’ll
+put your bed straight.’
+
+But when the light was brought in, and Ann looked down at the poor
+covering on the mattress, she uttered a little scream of amazement, and
+sank down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam himself stood as
+still as a stone, staring, as she did, at the clothes which lay across
+the bed. There was his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
+which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it possible that the
+nine five-pound notes were still safely hidden in the lining?
+
+‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine,’ he said, as soon as he could speak;
+‘I never thought to see it again.’
+
+‘I bought it soon after I came here,’ answered the attic tenant;
+‘an old-clothesman offered it for a shilling. It’s been a good warm
+waistcoat; but I’ve worn it for the last time.’
+
+‘I’ll give you a couple of blankets for it,’ said Sam, eagerly. ‘My
+wife sold it without asking me, and it was my wedding waistcoat, you
+see. I didn’t want to part with it.’
+
+‘Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,’ he answered; ‘you’ve done
+enough for me already.’
+
+‘No,’ said Ann, ‘I’ll bring the blankets.’
+
+She was trembling with excitement, but she would not leave the poor man
+until she had stopped up the broken panes, made the bed comfortable,
+and wrapped him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went down to
+their own room, and found Sam waiting for her before opening the seam
+in the lining of the waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed
+to unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of paper. Yes;
+they were all there, the nine five-pound notes he had never expected to
+touch again.
+
+‘Oh, Sam!’ she cried, with tears in her eyes, ‘do you think you will
+love them again?’
+
+For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at the notes, with
+a strange expression of fear upon his face. He compared the peace and
+happiness of the last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
+been to him. He thought of how he had begun to learn to think of God
+when he awoke in the morning, and when he was falling asleep at night.
+If he kept the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be right to
+throw away what God might intend them to keep as a provision against
+some time of need? Perhaps God saw the time was come when he might be
+trusted with money again.
+
+‘Ann,’ he said, ‘If I thought these notes would tempt me to serve
+mammon again, I’d throw them all on to the fire yonder. You take charge
+of them, my lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank, that
+was opened a few months ago. Thank God I lost them, and thank God I’ve
+found them again.’
+
+For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his wife nursed and tended the
+dying man in the attic as tenderly as if he had been their brother,
+teaching him what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick bed he
+might work the works of God, by believing on Jesus Christ, whom he hath
+sent. When he died, blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
+took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much upon her as the
+money laid by in the savings-bank. But she grew up like a daughter to
+them; and not long ago she became their daughter by marrying Johnny
+Franklin. The wedding took place a day or two before Christmas, the
+anniversary of the day when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune
+for little Bell.
+
+‘Oh, Sam!’ said his wife, as she thought of it, ‘how would it have been
+if we’d kept the nine shillings to buy clothes for Johnny?’
+
+‘We should have kept the nine shillings and lost the forty-five
+pounds,’ answered Sam. ‘It’s true, “He that hath pity upon the poor
+lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him
+again.”’
+
+‘Yes, but it’s more than that,’ said Ann; ‘we’d a chance of doing
+something like Jesus Christ would have done in our place, and we did
+it. That was the best of all.’
+
+
+[Illustration: She saw the stranger produce a pistol.
+
+                                                       _See page 46._]
+
+
+
+
+A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
+
+
+If you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton who was the
+prettiest and best girl in the town, they would, one and all, have
+answered promptly, ‘Dr. Layard’s daughter.’ There was scarcely a
+poor man or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard’s surgery,
+where he gave advice gratis to all who could not really afford to pay
+for it. And there was scarcely one who did not know the look of Dr.
+Layard’s bright, comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
+tender smile on Kate Layard’s face, as she listened pityingly to their
+sad stories, and sent them away home with happier hearts and lighter
+spirits.
+
+If it had not been for her poor people, as she called them, Kate
+Layard’s life would have been utterly dull and idle. She had no
+household duties to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
+of all such matters whilst she was still a little girl, would not brook
+any interference with her rule; and preferred to have Kate sitting in
+the drawing-room, idly busy over fancy work, or practising music to
+which no one listened, and painting water-colour sketches, at which
+no one looked. There were three boys younger than herself, but they
+were all away, either at school or college; and the long days passed
+by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really worth the
+doing. But for her father’s poor patients, and he had a good many of
+them, she would have felt her life to be quite lost.
+
+It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November, with a thick
+yellow fog pressing close against the windows, which prevented her from
+going out, that she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
+Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements for a thorough
+cleaning down before Christmas; but she steadily refused Kate’s offers
+of help. Secretly Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding out
+that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper as herself; and she
+shrank from the idea of going into some little lonely house of her own,
+where she could have no more than one little maid to order about, and
+no scope at all for her own powers. She did not think of Kate having
+no scope for hers. If she had, it is quite possible that she would
+have laid down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave Kate her
+proper post.
+
+‘I wish, something would happen to me!’ sighed Kate, on that dull
+November morning. At the very moment a servant brought in a letter,
+just delivered by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
+handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a vision of her father’s
+surgery flashed across her mind, with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking
+young man in her father’s place, giving advice and prescription, and
+good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It was Philip Carey,
+her father’s assistant, who had left them some months ago. It seemed to
+Kate that she had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the letter
+was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A bright colour flushed up
+in Kate’s face. If there had been any one in the room, she would have
+carried it away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet know
+a single word in it. But she was quite alone, and no one could see the
+colour in her cheeks, or the ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and
+made the lines look dim.
+
+‘I used to fancy sometimes,’ said Philip Carey, ‘that I might win your
+love; but I never dared to be sure of it. I was too poor then, and my
+future was too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you. But
+now I am appointed the assistant physician at Lentford Hospital, I
+think your father would be satisfied with my prospects. I do not write
+to him but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can trust your
+whole happiness to me, write but the one word “Come,” and I will come
+over immediately after my official appointment on the 30th, and speak
+to Dr. Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand your silence.’
+
+Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands, gazing blissfully
+into the fire. All the world was changed, quite suddenly. The day was
+no longer dull and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true. Philip
+Carey was the very man to be a physician in the Lentford Hospital; he
+was so gentle and considerate with the poor, and so skilful as well.
+She recollected how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned after
+him when he went away; and what a pang it had often been to her, a pang
+yet a pleasure, to hear his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good
+she must be to make herself good enough for him! She must be the best
+doctor’s wife in all Lentford.
+
+With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word ‘Come’ as Philip had
+suggested; and then it occurred to her that she might catch the morning
+post, and he would receive her answer before night. She directed the
+envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it across the square;
+dropping it into the letter-box with her own hands, and looking after
+it, as one does sometimes when the letter is a very important one.
+
+Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt Brooks was in a rather
+testy temper, and it was not easy to begin such a confidential
+disclosure to her. Dr. Layard was out all day, and only came in late at
+night, worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the secret being
+a secret. Everybody would know quite soon enough; for her letter had
+reached her on the 28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th,
+for Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride to Ilverton as
+soon as his official appointment was confirmed.
+
+Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came. Towards the close of
+the day Kate grew more agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might
+come in at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate was fully
+prepared to see him arrive then. But he did not appear; and the dinner
+passed very nearly in silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr.
+Layard was tired with his day’s work.
+
+‘Do you know, Kate,’ he said suddenly, ‘young Carey is appointed
+assistant physician at Lentford Hospital? It’s a splendid opening for
+so young a man. But he’s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
+content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah! Katie, Katie, you
+should have set your cap at him when he was here; you’ll never have
+such a chance again.’
+
+The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile played about her lips,
+ready to break into a happy laugh. If Philip would but come in now!
+
+‘Don’t put such notions into Kate’s head,’ said Aunt Brooks, precisely;
+‘no well behaved young lady would think of setting her cap at any one.’
+
+It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour after another passed
+by, and still he did not come. She went to the window, and opened it
+impatiently. She began to wonder if he meant to come in by the last
+train, and stay all night. But what would Aunt Brooks say? And what
+a strange hour it would be to begin to talk to her father about such
+a subject! She fancied it would take a very long time to introduce
+it, and afterwards to discuss it. But at half-past eleven Kate was
+compelled to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the fever of her
+new happiness having calmed a little, she slept profoundly, and dreamed
+of no trouble.
+
+But again there followed a morning and evening of expectation, dogged
+hour after hour by a strengthening disappointment. Kate sat moping over
+the fire, as Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip’s
+absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been carefully smoothed
+out again, and she read it till she knew every word by heart. But the
+pride and gladness died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of
+hope deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out of her life,
+and left her in deeper darkness than before. She waited and trusted
+till she could wait and trust no longer; and then she gave herself up
+to the full sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.
+
+There was no one to notice the change except her father, who was too
+busy to bestow more than a passing thought or two to her melancholy
+face and fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah’s gourd, had sprung
+up in a night and perished in a night; and like him she was ready to
+exclaim, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’
+
+Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered at all from her
+overwhelming sense of wretchedness and mortification. She was a pitiful
+and tender-hearted girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and she
+began to feel as if it was necessary for her own relief to make this
+miserable Christmas a time of pleasure and festivity to some of her
+poorer neighbours. If she could not see happiness with her own eyes,
+she would like to look at it through other people’s. It was impossible
+to remove the heaviness of her heart, but she might try to lighten
+others’. So one evening when she and her father were alone together,
+she approached the subject cautiously.
+
+‘Father,’ she said, ‘I want to make somebody in the world happier.’
+
+Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful. The burden that was
+oppressing her had made her feel that other people had heavy burdens
+to bear. She was learning that, in order to bear her own well, it was
+necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard was distressed by the
+mournfulness of his daughter’s tone.
+
+‘Make somebody happier!’ he repeated; ‘well, it is easy enough to do
+that.’
+
+‘How?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘Help them,’ answered Dr. Layard; ‘a little help is worth a deal of
+pity. Helping people is a good step towards making them and yourself
+happy.’
+
+‘That is what I want to do,’ said Kate, eagerly. ‘I want you to manage
+so that I can have some of your poor patients to tea here, in the large
+kitchen, on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit happier, I
+think. I don’t know that it would do much good, but they would enjoy
+it, wouldn’t they, father?’
+
+‘It would do them good, Kate,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘making people happy
+sometimes goes before making them good. In the hospital at times we
+make our patients as happy as they can be before the sharp operation;
+sometimes the sharp operation has to come first. We’ll try the merry
+Christmas for them this year, and then you must do what you can for
+them afterwards.’
+
+Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very gracious assent to
+Dr. Layard’s proposal, on condition that Kate took all the trouble of
+preparing for the guests, and entertaining them when they came. It made
+her busy enough for two or three days, and she tried to throw all her
+sad heart into it.
+
+‘Kate,’ said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, ‘we have forgotten one of
+our old favourites, who has not been here for months. You recollect old
+Mrs. Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins and tapes? Of
+all my poor patients, she ought to be present at your _soirée_.’
+
+Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party Kate’s _soirée_,
+and had taken an unusual interest in it. She was feeling more sorrowful
+than ever, this Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly gay.
+She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she found it difficult to get
+up a smile when her father spoke of the _soirée_. How different it
+would have been if Philip Carey had been true to her!
+
+‘Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?’ she asked, willing to escape
+from her sad thoughts for a little time.
+
+‘Easily,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘she lives in Wright’s Court, out of New
+Street, the last house but two on your left hand, I think. Anybody
+would tell you where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.’
+
+It was a dark night when Kate started out, without Bob, for she was not
+frightened; she was too miserable to be frightened. The passing relief
+she had felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas tea-party
+was spent, and the universal merriment only served to deepen her own
+loneliness and disappointment. The streets were full and noisy, but
+not disorderly. The church bells were ringing in anticipation of
+the coming day, and a general holiday tone was diffused through the
+crowd, though business was going on briskly. Groups of little children
+were gathering round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
+Christmas presents for themselves and each other from the magnificent
+display within, and laughing with pathetic mirth at their own daring
+dreams. Kate caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at her
+own vanished dream.
+
+Wright’s Court was not a good specimen of street architecture and
+paving. The houses were as low as they could be to boast of two
+stories, and the pavement was eccentric, making it necessary to take
+each step with great caution. An open gutter ran down the middle, and
+through the passage which formed the entrance; a passage four feet
+wide and twenty feet long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street,
+which shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her shadow
+bewilderingly before her. The court itself had no light but that which
+came through the uncurtained windows of the dwellings on each side,
+through which she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
+before she reached Mrs. Duffy’s door, where she stood a minute or two
+in the dark, looking through the small panes of the casement close
+beside it.
+
+It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough for the furniture
+it contained. There was an old box under the window, and one shelf
+against the wall, holding all Mrs. Duffy’s china and plate. The only
+chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs, were drawn up
+to the fireplace, in which a few coals were burning. Two old tin
+candlesticks and a flat-iron adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw,
+with a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared to
+decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had been stuck into
+each candlestick, as well as into every other pane of the little
+window. Mrs. Duffy herself was seated in the chair, apparently amusing
+herself with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was a black teapot
+and a cracked cup and saucer on the table, but there was no food upon
+it, and when she held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
+drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and looked placidly into
+the embers, shaking her head a little from time to time, but gently,
+as if more in remembrance of the past than in reproach of the present.
+She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no teeth, and her cheeks
+formed a little ball, like a withered rosy apple, between her hollow
+eyes and sunken mouth.
+
+‘The Lord love you, my dear,’ said Mrs. Duffy, when Kate went in, and
+delivered her message, ‘and the good doctor, too. It isn’t everybody as
+has such friends as me--on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body feels so
+lonesome wi’out friends. I don’t mind so much on working days, my dear,
+but one wants friends of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi’out
+friends; but one can’t love wi’out friends.’
+
+‘No, indeed!’ said Kate, with a profound sigh.
+
+‘And I’ve got such good friends!’ continued Mrs. Duffy, triumphantly;
+‘there’s one as gave me sixpence, and another threepence, and another
+twopence, only this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I’ve
+bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you know. You’d maybe
+like to see my Christmas joint like other folks, shouldn’t you, my
+dear?’
+
+‘I should very much,’ answered Kate.
+
+The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious possession, for it
+had been laid carefully between a plate and a basin, and these were
+well tied up in a ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
+cat. Kate’s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her eyelids smarted a
+little as if with coming tears, when she saw it. It was a morsel of
+coarse beef, which would not have covered the old woman’s hand, but
+which she regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.
+
+‘That cost sevenpence,’ she said, ‘and I bought two pennyworth of
+greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with it--me and a friend of mine,
+as is coming to dine with me. It’s a very poor lame girl as lives down
+the court; very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to eat
+my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant to me. The neighbour
+next door has promised to lend me a chair; we’re all so friendly one
+with another.’
+
+‘Then if you have a visitor you must bring her with you to tea,’
+said Kate, ‘and any children you have. Haven’t you got any sons or
+daughters? You’d enjoy yourself more with them there.’
+
+‘Bless your kind heart all the same,’ answered Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful
+face overcast for a moment; ‘I never had more than one bonny boy, and
+he went off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My Johnny he was.
+Sometimes I think as I shall never see him again. I was thinking of him
+when your knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty; and I
+was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt whether Johnny ’ud know his
+poor old mother again if he did come back.’
+
+‘How long is it since you heard from him?’ enquired Kate.
+
+‘I never heard from him at all,’ said Mrs. Duffy, in a matter-of-course
+tone; ‘he couldn’t write, and I couldn’t write. But he went to
+Australy, and he is in Australy now, if he hasn’t tumbled off. I can’t
+help thinking at times he must ha’ tumbled off, though the flies
+never do tumble off the ceiling. I’ve watched ’em for hours and hours
+together, thinking of my Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They
+have to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like them flies;
+but my Johnny wasn’t brought up to it, and I’m afeard for him at times.’
+
+‘Oh, no, he couldn’t tumble off,’ said Kate, laughing a little; ‘but
+are you sure you would know him yourself, Mrs. Duffy, after thirty
+years?’
+
+‘Can a mother forget her own boy?’ asked the old woman; ‘ay, ay; I
+should know my Johnny among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I’ll be
+glad to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many thanks to you for
+asking her. I’ve got to go out into the country to sing a carril or two
+at a farm-house, where they’re always very good to me; but that’ll be
+afore dinner; and we’ll come punctual to your house at five o’clock,
+me and my friend; and a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to every
+one of us, and you above all, my dear.’
+
+‘A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New Year it will be for me,’
+thought Kate; but she did not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting
+her down the court with her only candle, which guttered and wasted
+terribly in the night wind; and the last glance she had of the kindly,
+withered old face was lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of
+the dark passage.
+
+Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas sun was ready
+to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused up to the fact that if she was to
+sing a ‘carril’ a mile and a half away in the country, it was time to
+set out. Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin, scanty
+blanket she had been shivering under all night, were more attractive to
+her at seventy years of age than the long, lonely walk, through lanes
+deep down between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with mingled
+mud and ice. But she was of a brave and grateful heart, and after a
+short prayer for herself and everybody, uttered before quitting the
+feeble warmth of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
+the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard the shrill voices of
+children chanting some Christmas ditty; and she thought of Johnny when
+he was a boy, with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
+all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and singing in a voice
+which could not fail to rouse the most determined sleeper.
+
+‘He came home once with three shillings and twopence halfpenny, all
+in ha’pence,’ thought Mrs. Duffy, wiping away a tear from the sunken
+corner of her eye.
+
+It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but as soon as she had
+reached the porch, and lifting up her quavering voice, began, ‘God rest
+you, merry gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,’ the door was flung open
+quickly, and she was called in, and set before such a breakfast as she
+had not seen for years. Poor old Mrs. Duffy’s heart was very full, and
+before she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and tremulous
+voice: ‘I can’t think what’s come to folks this year. It’s like them
+blessed Christmases we shall have when everybody’s friends, when the
+lion is friends with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
+Here’s Dr. Layard’s daughter asked me to tea, and I’ve got a Christmas
+joint, and now there’s such a breakfast as I never see before, and me
+done nothing for it. I can’t think what’s come to folks; but it’s a
+blessed Christmas, it is.’
+
+‘You’ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,’ said the
+farmer’s wife, ‘and my husband’s father has given me a shilling for
+you.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after breakfast sang two
+or three carols, with as much zeal and energy as though they were sure
+to bring down many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
+after nine o’clock when she left the house; but there was the Christmas
+dinner to cook, and it was necessary to go home early for that. She
+bade them good-by, and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
+winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way back to the town.
+
+Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into the high road, when
+a man suddenly started up from behind the hedge, and laid his hand
+roughly on her shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
+ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at that early hour,
+to be half stupefied with drink. She looked into his coarse face, with
+a feeling of terror which was new to her.
+
+‘I want a shilling off you,’ he said, fiercely.
+
+‘A shilling!’ she cried, ‘where should a poor woman like me have a
+shilling from?’
+
+‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he demanded.
+
+Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on never having told
+a lie. She looked up and down the road, but there was not a creature
+in sight; and she glanced again hopelessly into the man’s savage and
+stupid face. What should she do? To part with the shilling just given
+to her would be a very great loss; and she knew it would only be spent
+in the nearest public-house. Should she be doing very wrong to deny
+having one? It was the first time for years that she had had a whole
+silver shilling about her; and any moment during that time she could
+have replied ‘No’ boldly and truthfully. Might she not say ‘No’ just
+this once?
+
+‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he repeated, shaking her shoulder roughly.
+
+‘Well,’ she said, feebly, ‘I haven’t had a shilling ever so long; but I
+have got one now. I’m a very poor old woman, my good young man. If I’d
+got a penny, I’d give it you, and welcome.’
+
+‘I must have your shilling,’ he said, doggedly.
+
+‘I can’t give it you, indeed,’ she answered; ‘there’s my rent, and
+coals, and other things; and I’m very poor. You’d only drink it.’
+
+She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw the stranger produce a
+pistol from under his jacket, and point it at her. There was a sudden
+flash before her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
+without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank on the high road.
+A few minutes later, Dr. Layard’s brougham was stopping at a toll-gate
+just outside the town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
+past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard was inside, with
+Kate, who was going out with him to see her godfather, a clergyman in
+the next parish. The doctor, having finished what he had to say to the
+gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said in passing.
+
+‘He says there’s a woman up the road, who’s been shot, sir,’ answered
+the servant, ‘and he says to me, “Look sharp after her, she’s an old
+woman, and very poor.”’
+
+‘Shot!’ exclaimed Dr. Layard; ‘drive on then, quickly. Katie, don’t be
+frightened. Gate, look after that fellow who has just gone through.’
+
+The last order was shouted through the window, as the carriage rolled
+rapidly away. In a few minutes they gained the spot where the old
+woman was lying as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
+staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her. Her old wrinkled
+face had lost all its apple-red, and her grey hair, scanty and short,
+had fallen down from under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
+exclaimed in one breath, ‘Mrs. Duffy!’
+
+Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a little shaken, and
+exceedingly troubled. She left the carriage, and sat down on the bank,
+supporting Mrs. Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
+examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and shoulder. His
+expression was very grave, and he stood for a few moments deliberating
+silently, with his eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
+and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.
+
+‘Is it dangerous?’ asked Kate, falteringly.
+
+‘Almost fatal,’ he answered; ‘within a touch of death. There’s one
+chance. I’m thinking of driving straight to Lentford Hospital. It’s a
+good level road all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
+town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift the old woman, and
+place her in an easy posture against you. Could you hold her pretty
+much as you are now for an hour or more? I’d do it myself; but you
+could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong enough?’
+
+‘I will be strong enough; I will do it,’ said Kate, lifting up her head
+with determination and endurance in every line of her face.
+
+It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage was a new one,
+handsomely lined and fitted up; but the servant’s soul ran more upon
+such subjects, and he began to protest against lifting the wounded
+and bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old creature, too,
+thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.
+
+‘Dolt! idiot! brute!’ ejaculated Dr. Layard, in high wrath; and Bob,
+who had only uttered half his protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.
+
+It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the carriage bowled rapidly
+along the smooth, straight old Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no
+sign of life, but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
+upon Kate’s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as she could, now and
+then clasping her warm fingers about her wrist, which was knotted and
+brown with age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to Kate’s
+touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with Bob, looked round from time
+to time, nodding to her, but with so grave a face that she felt the
+case was very serious. She thanked God fervently when the spires of
+Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of the morning chimes fell
+upon her ear. There were streams of people going to church, exchanging
+cheery salutations with one another; but many a person caught a glimpse
+of Kate’s pale and agitated face, and the grey head lying against her
+neck, and felt a shadow pass over their own Christmas gladness.
+
+Dr. Layard’s carriage drove into the courtyard of the hospital,
+and then Kate was quickly relieved of her burden. Mrs. Duffy was
+carried away, and Dr. Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious
+and troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower struck one
+quarter after another, and Bob drove up and down at a snail’s pace
+in dreary and monotonous turns. At length some one beckoned to him
+from the hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity which
+betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the last moment that it
+was Dr. Carey, not her father, who had summoned him; and she shrank
+back, breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage which
+concealed her best from him.
+
+‘Bob, your master says you must drive home,’ said Dr. Carey; ‘he will
+return by train in the afternoon.’
+
+‘And the old woman, sir?’ said Bob, ‘how’s she going on?’
+
+‘Very little hope,’ answered Philip Carey, whose face Kate could not
+see, but whose voice made every nerve thrill.
+
+‘Is it murder?’ asked Bob, who had known Dr. Carey as his master’s
+assistant, and stood on very little ceremony with him.
+
+‘I’m afraid so,’ he said; ‘how are they all at home, Bob? Miss Brooks
+and Miss Kate?’
+
+‘She’s in there,’ said Bob, pointing with his thumb to the carriage.
+Kate roused herself to lift up her head with dignity, sit erect upon
+her seat, and meet Dr. Carey’s salutation calmly. It was nearly four
+weeks since he had written to her, and she had replied, ‘Come.’ He
+looked at her with an amazed and confused expression, and took off his
+hat, but did not attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
+bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still bareheaded, and
+as if lost in thought, walked slowly back up the broad steps of the
+portico, and Kate cried most of the way home.
+
+‘I never saw anything like that,’ thought Bob; ‘and they used to be
+like brother and sister, almost.’
+
+It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned, and then he
+had to see the superintendent of police. The stranger who had passed
+through the toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
+far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he was taken. Kate’s
+Christmas party passed off more successfully because one of the invited
+guests had been almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
+wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the farmer’s wife came
+to tell of Mrs. Duffy’s morning visit, and her cheerful carols just
+before the villain met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
+over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas by going to
+bed with a very heavy heart.
+
+The next day the stranger was found and sworn to by Bob, though he
+flatly denied having been anywhere in the direction of the toll-bar.
+Neither Dr. Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
+passed on the farther side of the carriage while they were talking
+at the other window. He was an utter stranger in the neighbourhood,
+without friends, and he stated that he was on the tramp. A very old
+pistol was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy had been
+shot. The man was sent in safe custody to Lentford, to be brought face
+to face with the old woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
+to identify him and give her evidence against him.
+
+For twenty-four hours or more it continued very doubtful whether the
+poor old creature would ever rally. She had not spoken since she had
+been found, but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her hospital
+bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like the momentary glimmer of the
+sun on a cloudy day crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as
+if she were whispering. She knew when they were doing anything for her,
+for she tried to help herself, to raise her thin hand, or turn her grey
+head upon the pillow for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had known
+her in former days, spent as much time as he could beside her bed; and
+towards the close of the day, just before the night nurse was coming to
+take her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but very slowly
+and faintly, and he stooped over her to listen to what she said.
+
+‘Dr. Layard’s daughter! Dr. Layard’s daughter!’ she murmured.
+
+‘Would you like to see Dr. Layard’s daughter?’ asked Philip Carey, in
+his clearest and most pleasant tone.
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ whispered the old woman.
+
+‘To-morrow you shall,’ he said; ‘it is too late now. To-morrow.’
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ she assented, cheerfully.
+
+‘You will be better to-morrow,’ he suggested.
+
+‘No, no,’ murmured the old woman. ‘He shot me dead because I wouldn’t
+give him my shilling. He robbed me.’
+
+‘There’s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue sugar-paper in your
+pocket,’ said Dr. Carey. A sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor
+drawn face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.
+
+She was certainly somewhat better in the morning, and watching the
+people who were about her; her mind was clear, and she evidently knew
+her circumstances, where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
+noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy’s sunken blue eyes
+brightened, yet filled with tears, as she looked up into their faces
+bending pityingly above her.
+
+‘Well, old friend,’ said Dr. Layard, heartily, ‘you are better already.
+We are going to pull you through, you’ll see, Carey and me. We know
+what a tough old lady you are. Carey used to play you some tricks in
+the old times, and now he’ll make it up to you by pulling you through.
+Won’t you, Carey?’
+
+Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now she sat down, feeling
+weak and tremulous, on a chair at Mrs. Duffy’s head, keeping her eyes
+fixed upon the old woman’s face. Dr. Carey’s voice sounded oddly in her
+ears, as if he was speaking in very loud and constrained tones.
+
+‘I am going to do my best,’ he said, ‘but you must keep yourself quite
+still now, Mrs. Duffy, and get up your strength to tell the magistrate
+your story. You are a brave old woman, and won’t be afraid; and I’ll
+tell them you never told a lie in your life.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had not spoken yet, but she
+stretched out her hand, and tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey
+seemed to understand her meaning perfectly.
+
+‘You want Dr. Layard’s daughter to sit where you can see her?’ he said.
+‘You want her to stay with you?’
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ she answered. ‘God bless her!’
+
+It was Philip Carey who moved Kate’s chair, and placed it in a
+convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy to see her. She glanced at him
+once, but his eyes were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
+one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he and her father
+went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling now and then, closed her eyes
+and seemed to fall into a doze.
+
+It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward was a small one, containing
+only four beds, and no other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and
+had all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine was falling
+through the farthest window upon the bare white walls. Her mind was
+strangely divided between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
+was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken so kindly, even
+affectionately, to this poor, friendless old woman, but he had not
+spoken a word to her. How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel
+towards her? What reason or motive could possibly have made him change
+his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably, and plunge her into so much
+wretchedness and perplexity? She could not bear to meet him, yet she
+would have to bear it, for her father was so fond of him. How proud and
+happy her father would have been in him as his son in-law! It was too
+hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even have the misery some day
+of seeing his wife, the girl who had supplanted her, and made her life
+a blank. For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her ever
+to love another man. No one else could be to her what Philip Carey had
+been.
+
+The hour passed away, and there were several quiet signs of excitement.
+Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey came in, felt the old woman’s pulse, and gave
+her a cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she had better
+remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held her hand closely, and wished
+her to stay. Three or four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about
+the bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her story, which
+was written down, word for word, from her lips. She had not much to
+say, and it was soon over.
+
+‘Could you identify the individual?’ inquired the magistrate’s clerk.
+
+‘Should you know the man again?’ asked Dr. Carey, who was standing
+close to Kate, and near old Mrs. Duffy.
+
+‘Ay, to be sure,’ she answered, with more energy than she had displayed
+before.
+
+‘He has been taken;’ said Dr. Layard; ‘that is, a man has been taken
+up, and we think he is the man. You must see him yourself.’
+
+The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate’s hand tightly. It might have
+been Dr. Carey’s hand, for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
+answered to it.
+
+‘Come, come,’ he said, encouragingly, ‘you never used to be a coward;
+and you have only to open your eyes, and look at him. You have plenty
+of friends about you, you know.’
+
+‘He’s a dreadful man,’ she said, in a whisper, ‘but let him come.’
+
+Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as she listened to
+the regular tramp of the policeman, and the shambling tread of the
+murderer, coming down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
+closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful detective
+gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back of Kate’s chair, so close
+to her it almost touched her shoulder, and one of her brown curls
+fell upon it. The footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and
+stopped there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened glance.
+The murderer was a middle-aged man, with a full, heavy, red face, and
+light hair just turning grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole;
+he might have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for the
+drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was looking down at the
+wounded old woman with an air half sorrowful and half ashamed; but
+a little sullen also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
+policeman at his right hand was the only sign to mark him out as a
+criminal; and he seemed as much on the alert as if he expected him
+to make a second murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For a
+minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs. Duffy’s eyelids were
+closed, and her lips moved as if in prayer. She looked up at last; and
+her dim blue eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child who
+wakes frightened, changed like those of a child, when it sees that the
+face bending over it is a familiar face.
+
+‘Why,’ she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad, ‘it’s my boy! It’s
+my Johnny!’
+
+Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion, and she was about
+to raise herself up to stretch out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was
+quick enough to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at Kate’s
+feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the old woman. Every one
+else stood motionless and thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir
+hand or foot.
+
+‘That’s my son as went to Australy,’ continued Mrs. Duffy; ‘please
+let him come and kiss me. Don’t you know your poor old mother again,
+Johnny?’
+
+‘Oh, mother! mother!’ exclaimed the man, striking his hard hands
+together, ‘that’s my mother sir, as I came back to, and was looking
+for. I hadn’t seen her these thirty years, and she’s nothing like the
+woman she was. You’ll let me go and kiss her, maybe?’
+
+He had spoken to the policeman next to him, and his official eye was
+softened; but the magistrates were there, and the indulgence was not
+his to grant.
+
+‘Is this the person who attempted first to rob and then to murder you?’
+asked the magistrate’s clerk.
+
+‘Oh, dear no! it’s my boy,’ said the old woman; ‘he’d never shoot
+at his mother, bless you! It was quite a different man, not him; a
+dreadful man. That’s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers. He’d
+never lift up his hand agen me; please let him go.’
+
+There was no question in Mrs. Duffy’s mind as to whether she was
+telling the truth or not. Her gladness was so great that her mind
+utterly refused the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
+could have thought of robbing and murdering her. If he had been brought
+before her red-handed with her blood, she would still have believed
+herself mistaken. It was some ruffian and monster who had shot her, not
+her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot eyes were filled with tears,
+and his voice, as he began to speak, was choked and husky.
+
+‘Sir,’ he said, addressing no one in particular, ‘she’s not like the
+same woman, but she’s my mother. She had brown hair, and was very
+strong. I never thought of her being like that. I wish I’d kept free
+from drink. Nobody knows what drink’ll bring him to. She’s my mother;
+and I came back to work for her, if she were still alive. I’ll never
+taste a drop again as long’s I live.’
+
+‘Hush, hush!’ said Dr. Layard, coming behind him, and tapping him on
+the shoulder; ‘hold your tongue, my good fellow. You’ll make your
+mother worse again if you talk. There’s a good chance for her if she’s
+kept quiet.’
+
+The magistrates and their clerk walked away to the end of the ward, and
+held a short consultation there. There was not much doubt that this man
+was the right man; but there was no one to bring home the crime to him,
+except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard’s servant, swore positively that he
+was the man who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered; but
+the woman herself denied that it was he who had attacked her. To be
+sure there was more than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she
+persisted in it, what was to be done?
+
+‘You must remember you are upon your oath,’ said the elder magistrate,
+‘and probably upon your deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and
+tell me if he is not the man who shot at you.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling more and more, until her
+pale, shrunken face grew radiant with happiness.
+
+‘Why, it couldn’t be him,’ she said, ‘how could it? Ay, ay; I could
+swear it were never him; my Johnny. Please let him stay aside of me for
+a bit. The police may stop for him if you like; but he’d never do it.’
+
+‘Carey and I will be bail for him, if it’s necessary,’ said Dr.
+Layard, ‘only let the poor fellow shake hands with his mother. There,
+let him go.’
+
+The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman’s grasp, and
+sunk down on his knees at his mother’s feet, hiding his face in the
+bed-clothes, and sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time his
+mother’s eyes were shining upon him, and her arms, still kept firmly
+down by Dr. Carey, were trembling to touch him.
+
+The magistrates and their retinue went their way, leaving Mrs. Duffy
+with her son, while Kate and Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof
+from them, and from each other. The man crept closer and closer to his
+mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon her hand. There was a
+deep silence in the ward. Outside in the corridor, through the half
+open door, could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final orders.
+
+‘Mother,’ sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and faltering voice, ‘can
+you forgive me?’
+
+‘Why! there’s nothing to forgive, Johnny,’ she said, ‘and I’m so happy,
+I’d forgive everybody. I’d forgive the raskill as shot me. I have
+forgive him already, Johnny.’
+
+‘I want you to get well, mother,’ he said, with desperate earnestness,
+‘and I’ll make it all up to you. I’m come back to work for you, and
+indeed, I’ll work. Will you forgive me, mother?’
+
+‘Forgive you, Johnny!’ she murmured, ‘it’s a easy thing to forgive a
+body when you love a body.’
+
+The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable, from the old
+woman’s white lips, and Kate’s heart sank like lead. The withered face
+had grown paler, and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
+blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and Philip Carey turned
+quickly towards her.
+
+‘Is she going to die, Philip?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘She is very faint,’ he replied, ‘She has been too much excited, but
+she may rally yet. Go and send me a nurse, and do not return yourself.’
+
+Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears falling fast from her eyes.
+She was no longer grieving over her own troubles, but for the hopeful,
+cheery, brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son again in such
+a manner, and at such a moment as this. She waited in the matron’s
+parlour until a message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was sleeping
+again, with her son watching and waiting beside her. Then she returned
+home with her father.
+
+‘I’ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy’s the man,’ shouted Dr. Layard
+to her, above the noise of the train; ‘but the thing cannot be brought
+home to him. The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is
+labouring under a delusion. She no more believes that her son was the
+man who shot at her than I believe that you did it. I question whether
+she would believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he must
+not do. I’ve told him so. I said, “Duffy, I feel pretty sure you are
+the villain that did it, and if she dies I’ll do my best to prove it.
+But never you tell your mother it was yourself; it would go far to
+break her heart.” And he said, “I’ll never speak a word about it, one
+way or the other, sir.” Oh! Duffy did it!’
+
+‘Do you think she will die?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘Carey will do his best for her,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘I never saw such
+a change in a young fellow as there is in Carey. He is as dull as a
+beetle; just when he has got all he has been striving for, too! I don’t
+understand it.’
+
+Kate believed she understood it, but she kept silence. It was not
+likely he could feel happy and at ease in her presence or her father’s
+if he had a spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good deal of
+feeling. She had caught his eye once during the strange interview round
+Mrs. Duffy’s bed, and they had looked at one another with a sympathy
+which had seemed at the moment the most natural thing in the world.
+She had called him Philip, too! How her cheeks burned at the very
+recollection. She wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity
+of manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten herself, and
+it had been a happier moment than she had felt for these four weeks
+past. Perhaps utter forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.
+
+The next morning Kate was once more sitting alone before the fire in
+the breakfast-room, with nothing particular to do, until it was time
+to start for Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a large
+official-looking cover, with the words ‘Dead Letter Office’ printed
+upon it, and addressed ‘Miss Kate Layard, Ilverton.’ It was the first
+time in her life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
+packet. She opened it with some trepidation, and drew from it her own
+brief note to Philip Carey, written four weeks before. The envelope
+bore several postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
+after another--Liverpool, then Manchester, then London--but it was
+several minutes before she discovered how it had all happened. Her own
+handwriting lay before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
+she had directed her letter to ‘Dr. Carey, Everton Square, Liverpool.’
+
+How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead of Lentford she could
+never understand. It was true Philip had gone to Liverpool after
+leaving Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
+mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through as miserable a time as
+herself. He must have come to the conclusion that she did not care for
+him, and that she had not even the grace to thank him for the love he
+had bestowed upon her in vain. What could he have thought of her? It
+must have been a pain to him. She would make it up to him in some way.
+
+Kate’s brain was in a whirl all the way to Lentford. She walked up
+the broad steps of the hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
+porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly at her; and the
+students, hurrying along the broad corridors, took off their hats to
+Dr. Layard’s pretty daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
+a good-sized room, with benches round and across it, upon which were
+seated rows of poor patients, waiting humbly for their turn to go in
+and see the doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an inch or
+two, and Kate saw Philip Carey’s face, grave and care-worn, listening
+to a poor woman who was just going away by another entrance. She laid
+her hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in, and passed on
+into the room instead. ‘Philip,’ she said, her face flushing at his
+look of amazement, ‘I am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
+miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.’
+
+‘Wrote what?’ he asked, clasping the hand with which she offered him
+the misdirected letter, and holding both closely.
+
+‘I only wrote “Come,”’ stammered Kate, the tears starting into her
+eyes, ‘and I thought--oh, I don’t know what I thought! I directed it
+to Liverpool instead of Lentford, and it’s been wandering about ever
+since. Do you understand?’
+
+‘Do you mean you will be my wife?’ he asked.
+
+‘Yes,’ she answered.
+
+They had only three minutes to themselves. Three minutes was the time
+allotted for each case, and as it expired the door was opened again
+an inch or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next patient.
+Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and dismissed her with a glance
+which set her heart beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
+flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs. Duffy was lying as if
+she trod on air. The old woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her
+eyes calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red beginning
+to show itself upon her cheek. The good chance for her recovery was a
+still better one this morning.
+
+‘He’s coming back again this morning,’ she whispered in Kate’s ear;
+‘they let him stay beside me all yesterday, and he’s coming back again
+to-day. It’s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one like
+it. I hope they’ll never catch that poor raskill as shot me, I do. It
+’ud spoil my Christmas and Johnny’s if they did. Has it been a happy
+Christmas for you, my dear?’
+
+‘Very happy,’ answered Kate, with a bright smile, as the present joy
+blotted out the remembrance of the past sorrow.
+
+‘That’s right, my dear!’ murmured Mrs. Duffy, ‘I don’t know as ever I
+knew such a Christmas.’
+
+There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made his appearance at Dr.
+Layard’s that evening, and delighted him beyond measure by asking him
+for Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three years longer in
+undisturbed happiness, and in a degree of comfort to which she had been
+unaccustomed throughout her life. For her son, who had not prospered
+much in Australia, worked industriously and steadily to maintain her at
+home, and devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was not till
+after her death, when Kate Carey was standing beside her coffin looking
+down at the placid face and closed eyes of the old woman, that he told
+the story of his return home.
+
+‘I’d worked my passage across, ma’am,’ he said, the tears rolling down
+his cheeks, ‘and I’d landed in Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with
+as much as five pound in my pocket, all I’d saved in Australy; and
+there were a lot set on me, and took me to a public, and I suppose
+I drank all my wits away. I reached Ilverton by the last train on
+Christmas Eve, but I didn’t know as mother were gone to live in the
+town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a bench at the railway
+station. I hadn’t a penny left, when I set out to seek mother; and I
+were wandering about very miserable, when I saw a decent old woman
+coming along all alone. I only thought I’d frighten a shilling out of
+her. I never meant no harm. The pistol were an old pistol I’d had in
+the bush; and I didn’t recollect it was loaded, and it went bursting
+off, all in an instant of time. That quite brought me to, and I were
+running away to find somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming. I
+seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I found out it were my own
+poor old mother, which I did face to face with her in the hospital, I
+felt as I should die. She never knew as it were me, never. She used to
+talk about him, and say, “I forgave him, Johnny, and I hope God has
+forgave him too, whoever he is.” I shall never see another woman like
+my poor old mother.’
+
+
+  LONDON: PRINTED BY
+  SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
+  AND PARLIAMENT STREET
+
+
+
+
+WORKS BY HESBA STRETTON,
+
+AUTHOR OF ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.’
+
+
+  =I. CASSY.= Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching
+    kind, and the narrative, while free and graceful, is really of the
+    most compressed and masterly character.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another
+    treat, as real to grown-up people as to children.’--_Church Herald._
+
+
+  =II. THE KING’S SERVANTS.= With Eight Illustrations. Thirtieth
+  Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+  Part I. Faithful in Little.
+  Part II. Unfaithful.
+  Part III. Faithful in Much.
+
+    ‘The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly
+    told, and the religious purpose constantly kept in view.’
+    --_Watchman._
+
+    ‘An interesting story.’--_Church News._
+
+    ‘The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a
+    living power likely to carry it home to the hearts of all who read
+    it.’--_Freeman._
+
+
+  =III. LOST GIP.= Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.’--_Echo._
+
+    ‘One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.’--_Brighton
+    Gazette._
+
+
+  =IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.= Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo. 2_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This little book is intended to present the result of close
+  investigations made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous
+  narrative, suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for
+  those who have not the leisure or the books needed for threading
+  together the fragmentary and scattered incidents recorded in the four
+  Gospels.
+
+    ‘A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the
+    wonderful story with a forcible simplicity that will appeal to all
+    readers.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the
+    Sunday-school, and is also suitable for a Sunday-school
+    prize.’--_Church Review._
+
+    ‘The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.’--_Rock._
+
+    ‘It is invaluable.’--_Sunday-School Quarterly Journal._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+A LIST OF
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO.’S
+
+BOOKS SUITABLE FOR
+
+CHILDREN’S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.
+
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
+comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History, Education,
+Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis on application._
+
+
+  =SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES=, for Home Reading and Cottage
+  Meetings. By Mrs. G. S. REANEY.
+
+  CONTAINING:--
+
+  ‘Little Meggie’s Home,’
+  ‘Aggie’s Christmas,’
+  ‘Sermon in Baby’s Shoes,’
+  ‘Lina.’
+
+  Small square, uniform with ‘Lost Gip,’ &c. Three Illustrations. Price
+  1_s_. 6_d._
+
+
+  =DADDIE’S PET.= By Mrs. ELLEN ROSS (‘Nelsie Brook’). A Sketch from
+  Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with ‘Lost Gip.’ With Six
+  Illustrations. 1_s._
+
+    ‘We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of
+    writing.’--_Christian World._
+
+    ‘Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.’--_Brighton
+    Gazette._
+
+    ‘A very pretty tale.’--_John Bull._
+
+    ‘A pretty little story for children.’--_Scotsman._
+
+    ‘An exceedingly pretty little story.’--_Literary Churchman._
+
+
+  =LOCKED OUT=: A Tale of the Strike. By ELLEN BARLEE. With a
+  Frontispiece. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial
+    libraries, whether in country or in town.’--_Literary Churchman._
+
+    ‘Well written.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of BOOKS for
+JUVENILES._
+
+
+Works by the Author of ‘St. Olave’s,’ ‘When I was a Little Girl,’ &c.
+
+
+  =I. AUNT MARY’S BRAN PIE.= Illustrated.
+
+    ‘A bright story for children.’--_Globe._
+
+    ‘The stories are exceedingly good.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘Capital stories.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of
+    the season.’--_Literary World._
+
+
+  =II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.= Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.
+
+
+  =BRAVE MEN’S FOOTSTEPS.= A Book of Example and Anecdote for
+  Young People. By the Editor of ‘Men who have Risen.’ With Four
+  Illustrations by C. DOYLE. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+  The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
+  character, and their operation under different forms of effort.
+  Success is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.
+
+    ‘The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of
+    those who, in choosing a gift for a boy, would consult his moral
+    development as well as his temporary pleasure.’--_Daily Telegraph._
+
+    ‘A readable and instructive volume.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved
+    success.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.
+
+
+  =I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.= With Eleven Illustrations.
+  Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who
+    meddles always with a kindly disposition with other people’s
+    affairs, and helps them to do right. There are many shrewd lessons
+    to be picked up in this clever little story.’--_Public Opinion._
+
+    ‘Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so
+    well how to produce.’--_Leeds Mercury._
+
+    ‘Original, faithful, and humorous story.’--_Manchester Examiner._
+
+
+  =II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.= With Ten Illustrations by J. MAHONEY.
+  Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our
+    boys and girls.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘A very attractive story.’--_Public Opinion._
+
+    ‘A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest
+    interest.’--_Leeds Mercury._
+
+    ‘Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much
+    useful knowledge of natural history. The story is told in a
+    pleasant, chatty style.’--_Standard._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN=; with some Lessons in
+  Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By SARA COLERIDGE. A New Edition. Illustrated.
+
+    ‘Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little
+    folk through what has been called “the bitterness of
+    learning.”’--_Saturday Review._
+
+    ‘This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book
+    for children. It teaches us many a good moral, many a good
+    common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which are, for the most part,
+    very musical to the ear.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.= By Colonel E. P. DE L’HOSTE.
+  Translated from the French of Eugène Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an
+  Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.
+
+    ‘There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest
+    heroism; unpretentious religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a
+    household brought up in the fear of the Lord.’--_Illustrated London
+    News._
+
+    ‘It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious
+    liberty of a real man.’--_Graphic._
+
+    ‘It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little
+    book will not prove attractive.’--_London Quarterly._
+
+
+Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.
+
+    =I. ELSIE DINSMORE.= Crown 8vo.
+   =II. ELSIE’S GIRLHOOD.= Crown 8vo.
+  =III. ELSIE’S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.= Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is
+    portrayed in three different volumes. By the help, however, of the
+    illustrations, and by dips here and there, we can safely give a
+    favourable account.’--_Westminster Review._
+
+    ‘Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers.
+    In the above three pretty volumes her story is complete, and
+    it is one full of youthful experiences, winning a general
+    interest.’--_Athenæum._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =THE DESERTED SHIP.= A Real Story of the Atlantic. By CUPPLES HOWE,
+  Master Mariner. Illustrated by TOWNLEY GREEN. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and
+    with scarcely more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with
+    which the story deals, and will much interest boys who have a spice
+    of romance in their composition.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+    ‘It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended,
+    yet stirring events, which please a boy, more than any other
+    quality.’--_Edinburgh Daily Review._
+
+
+  =THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.= By JEAN INGELOW. A Second Series of
+  ‘Stories told to a Child.’ With Fifteen Illustrations. Square 24mo.
+
+    ‘We like all the contents of the “Little Wonder-Horn” very
+    much.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘We recommend it with confidence.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of
+    some of the best of our modern verse.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. With
+  Nine Illustrations by ARTHUR HUGHES. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story
+    through five times. Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept
+    that verdict upon his little work as final.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =PLUCKY FELLOWS.= A Book for Boys. By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. With Nine
+  Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘This is one of the very best “Books for Boys” which have been
+    issued this year.’--_Morning Advertiser._
+
+    ‘A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly,
+    straightforward manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the
+    children.’--_London Society._
+
+
+  =LITTLE MINNIE’S TROUBLES=: an Every-day Chronicle. By N. R.
+  D’ANVERS. Illustrated by W. H. HUGHES. Fcp. 8vo.
+
+
+  =THE AFRICAN CRUISER.= A Midshipman’s Adventures on the West Coast.
+  By S. W. SADLER, R.N., Author of ‘Marshall Vavasour.’ A Book for
+  Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will
+    find few pleasanter gift-books this season than “The African
+    Cruiser.”’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this,
+    written in a brisk style by a thorough sailor, is crammed full of
+    adventures.’--_Times._
+
+
+  =SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.= Crown 8vo. With Four
+  Illustrations.
+
+  CONTENTS:--Seeking his Fortune--Oluf and Stephanoff--What’s in a
+  Name?--Contrast--Onesta.
+
+    ‘These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise
+    detailed manner which we are sure young people like.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound
+    and generous moral.... We can answer for it that this volume will
+    find favour with those for whom it is written, and that the sisters
+    will like it quite as well as the brothers.’--_Athenæum._
+
+
+  =SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.= Illustrated with Nine Etchings.
+
+  CONTENTS:--
+
+  Mermaid.
+  Little Hans.
+  Dimple.
+  The Two Princes.
+  Specklesides.
+  Black Sneid.
+  Little Curly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING BOOKS FOR JUVENILES._
+
+
+  =MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN’S LAND.= By JAMES BONWICK.
+  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
+
+  This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as
+  to the leading incidents of the Bushranger’s career. The tale may
+  therefore be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.
+
+    ‘He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and
+    this he does in a highly creditable manner. His delineations of life
+    in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite, and his
+    representations of character are very marked.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+
+  =THE TASMANIAN LILY.= By JAMES BONWICK. Crown 8vo. With Frontispiece.
+
+    ‘An interesting and useful work.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full
+    of those touches which give them a natural appearance.’--_Public
+    Opinion._
+
+
+Two Works by DAVID KER.
+
+
+  =I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.= A Tale of Central Asia. Crown 8vo.
+  With Illustrations.
+
+  In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero; genuine
+  information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of a mere
+  dry statistical report.
+
+    ‘Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate
+    the story, has a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of
+    courage and ability, from a state of slavery to one of independence.
+    Will prove attractive to boys.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Exciting boy’s story, well told and abounding in incidents.’
+    --_Hour._
+
+    ‘Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the
+    end.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘An attractive boy’s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes
+    round an imaginary hero.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.= Crown 8vo. Illustrated.
+
+                                                            [_Just out._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL FIELD CLUB.= A Book for Boys.
+  By G. C. DAVIES.
+
+
+  =FANTASTIC STORIES.= By RICHARD LEANDER. Translated from the German
+  by PAULINA B. GRANVILLE. With Eight full-page Illustrations by M. E.
+  FRASER-TYTLER. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal
+    with all manner of subjects.’--_Guardian._
+
+    ‘“Fantastic” is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of
+    these strange tales.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of
+    Paris.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘“The Knight who grew Rusty” is a delightful story, but “The
+    Queen who could not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could
+    not play on the Jew’s harp,” will probably be the children’s
+    favourite.’--_Daily News._
+
+
+  =THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.= By JACOB DE LIEFDE. Crown 8vo. With
+  Eleven Illustrations by TOWNLEY GREEN and others.
+
+    ‘A wholesome present for boys.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘A really good book.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘A really excellent book.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =HER TITLE OF HONOUR=: a Book for Girls. By HOLME LEE. New Edition.
+  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
+
+    ‘It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee’s, for they are
+    well known, and all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds
+    even our favourites, not perhaps as a story, for this is of the
+    simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story
+    is united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because,
+    also, it is a careful and beautiful piece of writing, and is full of
+    studies of refined and charming character.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as
+    valuable as it is rare.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.= By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. Crown 8vo.
+  With Six Illustrations.
+
+    ‘Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military
+    adventure.... Boys will find them sufficiently exciting
+    reading.’--_Times._
+
+    ‘These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of
+    soldiering in various parts of the world.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘Mr. MacKenna’s former work, “Plucky Fellows,” is already a
+    general favourite, and those who read the stories of the Old
+    Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of materials at hand
+    for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them
+    well.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD.= By Mrs. G. S.
+  REANEY. With a Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A good tale--good in composition, good in style, good in
+    purpose.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good
+    and important one.’--_Rock._
+
+
+  =SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.= From Russian, Servian, Polish, and Bohemian
+  Sources. By JOHN T. NAAKE, of the British Museum. With Four
+  Illustrations. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original
+    national ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands
+    besides children. Yet children will eagerly open the pages, and not
+    willingly close them, of the pretty volume.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with
+    eleven Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight
+    Russian and thirteen Servian, in Mr. Naake’s modest but serviceable
+    collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents are, as a general
+    rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which
+    deserves cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got
+    up volume, we ought to mention that its contents fully come up to
+    the promise held out in its preface.’--_Academy._
+
+
+  =STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.= By HELEN ZIMMERN. With Six
+  Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural,
+    and pleasantly quaint, as befits stories intended for the young.’
+    --_Daily Telegraph._
+
+    ‘A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate,
+    and which will remind its readers of many a legend, and many
+    an imaginary virtue attached to the gems they are so fond of
+    wearing.’--_Post._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =THE BETTER SELF.= By J. HAIN FRISWELL. Essays for Home Life. Crown
+  8vo. 6_s._
+
+  CONTENTS:--
+
+  Beginning at Home
+  The Girls at Home
+  The Wife’s Mother
+  Pride in the Family
+  Discontent and Grumbling
+  Domestic Economy
+  Likes and Dislikes
+  On Keeping People Down
+  On Falling Out Peace
+
+    ‘A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as
+    sound and wholesome as it is noble and elevated.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without
+    becoming a bore.’--_City Press._
+
+
+  =BY STILL WATERS.= By EDWARD GARRETT. A Story for Quiet Hours. Crown
+  8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6_s._
+
+    ‘We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has
+    pleased us so well as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed
+    us.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to
+    meet. His stories are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and
+    there is about them a rare atmosphere of not unpleasing meditative
+    melancholy.’--_Echo._
+
+
+  =BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.= By MARY M. HOWARD, Author of
+  ‘Brampton Rectory.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+    ‘These tales possess considerable merit.’--_Court Journal._
+
+    ‘A neat and chatty little volume.’--_Hour._
+
+
+  =OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.= By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A., Author of
+  ‘Saturn and its Systems,’ ‘The Universe,’ ‘The Expanse of Heaven,’
+  &c. To which are added, ‘Essays on Astrology’ and ‘The Jewish
+  Sabbath.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+
+  =THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.= A Series of Essays on the Wonders of the
+  Firmament. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A. With a Frontispiece. Second
+  Edition. Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+    ‘A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader’s mind up
+    “through nature’s work to nature’s God.”’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘Full of thought, readable, and popular.’--_Brighton Gazette._
+
+
+  =PHANTASMION.= A Fairy Romance. By SARA COLERIDGE. With an
+  Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord COLERIDGE, of Ottery S.
+  Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
+  long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience
+  and a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination,
+  melody of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity
+  of conception.
+
+    ‘The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a
+    time in a veritable region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of
+    unreality, and surrounded by supernatural beings.’--_Morning Post._
+
+    ‘This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice
+    the length, closing the book with a feeling of regret that the
+    repast was at an end.’--_Vanity Fair._
+
+    ‘A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.’--_Examiner._
+
+
+  =ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.= By HARRIETT PARR. Crown 8vo. 8_s._ 6_d._
+
+  The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
+  young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
+  the great struggle.
+
+    ‘Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and
+    if children are not interested in her book, many of their seniors
+    will be.’--_British Quarterly Review._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.
+
+
+  =LYRICS OF LOVE=, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected and arranged
+  by W. DAVENPORT ADAMS, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth extra, gilt edges, 3_s._
+  6_d._
+
+  The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in
+  these particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems.
+  (2) That each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and
+  (3) That it includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as
+  of the earliest writers.
+
+
+  =HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.= By the Rev. Canon R. H. BAYNES, Editor
+  of ‘Lyra Anglicana,’ &c. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra,
+  3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
+  various members of Christ’s Church Militant here on earth.
+
+    ‘A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high
+    standard of excellence. The pieces are short, mostly original,
+    and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent spirit of
+    devotion.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =POEMS.= By WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
+  bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+  A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
+  and they contain several of the Author’s Poems which have not appeared
+  in any previous Collection.
+
+    ‘Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained
+    the fame and position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer
+    than William Cullen Bryant.’--_Academy._
+
+
+  =ENGLISH SONNETS.= Collected and Arranged by JOHN DENNIS. Fcap. 8vo.
+  Elegantly bound. 3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the
+  Elizabethan to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of
+  poetry, and not only for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in
+  order to pass away an idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words
+  of Marlowe, ‘infinite riches in a little room.’
+
+    ‘An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry
+    will consult again and again with delight. The notes are very
+    useful.... The volume is one for which English literature owes Mr.
+    Dennis the heartiest thanks.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+_W. C. BENNETT’S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS._
+
+
+A LIBRARY EDITION. Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6_s._
+
+  =BABY MAY=--HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People’s Edition, in Two Parts,
+  paper covers, 1_s._ each.
+
+    ‘One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every
+    mother ought to learn “Baby May” and “Baby’s Shoes” off by
+    heart.’--_Westminster Review._
+
+    ‘The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
+    much naïve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘Those readers who do not as yet know “Baby May” should make her
+    acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will
+    find her in good company.’--_Guardian._
+
+    ‘Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
+    his pages.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘“Baby’s Shoes” is worthy to rank with “Baby May,” which, from its
+    completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one
+    of the most exquisite among Dr. Bennett’s productions.’--_Daily
+    Telegraph._
+
+    ‘Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
+    language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.’--_Weekly Dispatch._
+
+
+  =SONGS FOR SAILORS.= Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3_s._ 6_d._; paper
+  covers, 1_s._
+
+    ‘Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic’--_Morning Post._
+
+    ‘Very spirited.’--_Daily News._
+
+    ‘Really admirable.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Right well done.’--_Illustrated London News._
+
+    ‘Sure of a wide popularity.’--_Morning Advertiser._
+
+    ‘Songs that sailors most enjoy.’--_Echo._
+
+    ‘Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
+    Dibdin.’--_Graphic._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
+
+
+  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Emboldened text is surrounded by equals signs: =bold=.
+
+  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65830 ***
diff --git a/65830-h/65830-h.htm b/65830-h/65830-h.htm
index 3b3c6d6..74b97b9 100644
--- a/65830-h/65830-h.htm
+++ b/65830-h/65830-h.htm
@@ -1,3405 +1,2938 @@
-<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
-    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
-<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
-  <head>
-    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
-    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
-    <title>
-      Two Christmas Stories, by Hesba Stretton&mdash;A Project Gutenberg eBook
-    </title>
-    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
-    <style type="text/css">
-
-body {
-    margin-left: 10%;
-    margin-right: 10%;
-}
-
-    h1,h2 {
-    text-align: center;
-    clear: both;
-}
-
-p {
-    margin-top: .51em;
-    text-align: justify;
-    margin-bottom: .49em;
-}
-
-
-div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;}
-div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;}
-
-hr {
-    width: 33%;
-    margin-top: 2em;
-    margin-bottom: 2em;
-    margin-left: 33.5%;
-    margin-right: 33.5%;
-    clear: both;
-}
-
-hr.tb   {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
-hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
-@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
-
-
-div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
-h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
-
-
-table {
-    margin-left: auto;
-    margin-right: auto;
-}
-
-
-
-
-.pagenum {
-    position: absolute;
-    left: 92%;
-    font-size: smaller;
-    text-align: right;
-    font-style: normal;
-    font-weight: normal;
-    font-variant: normal;
-}
-
-.blockquot {
-    margin-left: 10%;
-    margin-right: 10%;
-}
-
-.bbox     {
-            margin: auto;
-            width: 600px;
-            height: 400px;
-            padding: 10px;
-            border: 2px solid;  }
-
-.center   {text-align: center;}
-
-.right    {text-align: right;}
-
-.indent {padding-left: 0.75em;}
-.indent2 {padding-left: 0.35em;}
-
-.gap {padding-left: 7em;}
-.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
-
-
-.caption  {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;}
-
-.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;}
-.xlarge {font-size: 150%;}
-
-.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;}
-.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;}
-.floatright {margin-left: 25em;}
-
-.figcenter {
-    margin: auto;
-    text-align: center;
-    page-break-inside: avoid;
-    max-width: 100%;
-}
-
-p.drop-cap {
- text-indent: -0.2em;
-}
-
-p.drop-cap:first-letter
-{
- float: left;
- margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em;
- font-size: 250%;
- line-height:0.55em;
- text-indent: 0em;
-}
-@media handheld
-{
- p.drop-cap {
-   text-indent: 0em;
- }
- p.drop-cap:first-letter
- {
-   float: none;
-   margin: 0;
-   font-size: 100%;
- }
-}
-
-
-.poetry-container  {text-align: center;}
-.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
-.poetry .verse  {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;}
-
-.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
-    color: black;
-     font-size:smaller;
-     padding:1em;
-     margin-bottom:5em;
-     margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;
-     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
-
-    </style>
-  </head>
-<body>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year, by Hesba Stretton</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year</p>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Hesba Stretton</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 12, 2021 [eBook #65830]</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="" /></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<h1>TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</h1>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="bbox">
-<p class="center"><b>By the Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</b></p>
-
-
-<p class="center"><i>Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with<br />
-Frontispiece.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center"><b>Price Sixpence each</b></p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-
-<div class="verse">FRIENDS TILL DEATH.</div>
-<div class="verse">THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON. &nbsp; &nbsp;  1 vol.</div>
-<div class="verse">MICHEL LORIO&#8217;S CROSS.</div>
-<div class="verse">OLD TRANSOME.</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p class="center"><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> For a list of other Works by the same Author, see the<br />
-Catalogue at the end of this work.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON.</p>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-<p class="caption">&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 24.</i></span></p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<p><span class="xxlarge">TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</span><br />
-<br />
-<i>SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK</i><br />
-<br />
-<i>A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
-A HAPPY NEW YEAR</i></p>
-
-
-<p>BY<br />
-<br />
-<span class="xlarge">HESBA STRETTON</span><br />
-<br />
-AUTHOR OF<br />
-&#8216;LOST GIP&#8217; &#8216;CASSY&#8217; &#8216;JESSICA&#8217;S FIRST PRAYER&#8217; ETC.</p>
-
-<p>WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
-
-<p><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON</i><br />
-1876</p>
-</div>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="center">(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p>
-</div>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image007.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p class="drop-cap">IF any one had told Sam Franklin before he
-married that he would ever save money out of his
-wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn; they
-had never been more than enough when he had only
-himself to keep, and when there was a wife into the
-bargain, what chance would there be for him to have
-a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
-many weeks, he had made the discovery that
-the wages which had only been enough for one were
-rather more than enough for two. There were no
-dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long
-evenings spent in the public-houses, no laundresses&#8217;
-bills to meet. He had a great deal more comfort
-with a somewhat smaller outlay.</p>
-
-<p>When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over
-and above the sum he allowed his wife for housekeeping
-and rent, he hardly knew what to do with it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>
-His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did
-not care to leave it for the tavern. He and his wife
-were living on the first-floor of a house in a decent,
-quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans like himself,
-though the houses were from three to four stories high,
-and had been built for richer people. They had a
-sitting-room, with a bedroom behind it, and the use
-of a back kitchen for cooking and washing; so the
-place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann
-Franklin had notions of cleanliness and smartness,
-which made her take great pride in herself and all her
-belongings. The parlour, as she liked it to be called,
-was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
-had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise
-and smoke of a public-house taproom.</p>
-
-<p>What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown?
-It doubled itself into five shillings, and by-and-by
-a golden half-sovereign lay among the silver
-and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was
-a man of few words&mdash;a close man, his comrades
-called him&mdash;and silent as the grave concerning his
-own affairs. Had he told one of them when he was
-about to be married? Not his best friend amongst
-them! Had he mentioned it as a piece of news
-interesting to himself that he had a son born? Never!
-He despised men who could not keep a still tongue in
-their heads, but must prate about all they did or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
-thought. Even with his wife he was sparing of words,
-though he liked her to tell him everything she did,
-and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was
-only a woman; a man should have more control over
-his tongue.</p>
-
-<p>So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his
-savings, though they seemed to grow like seed sown
-in good ground. Every week he gave his wife the
-sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the
-best of it cheerfully, letting him know how every
-penny was spent, and sometimes wondering to him
-how his comrades&#8217; wives managed to be so much
-smarter than she was. At first he had thoughts of
-buying her a new bonnet or shawl, but he scarcely
-liked to own that he had been keeping back the
-money from her. This difficulty became greater as
-the sum grew larger; and, besides that, the possession
-of it began to get a hold upon him. It gave to him
-a secret consciousness of wealth among his fellow-workmen,
-which was very pleasant for a time; but
-by-and-by this feeling passed away, and a strange,
-unaccountable dread of being poor took possession of
-him. He began to talk about bad times, and the
-high prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses
-of a family, though his own consisted of his
-cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But this
-change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
-himself nor his wife had any idea what was going on.
-He spent his evenings at home, and went nearly every
-Sunday to the place of worship which Ann and
-Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud
-of her tall, fine-looking husband, whose clothes she
-kept in such good order that he looked, in her eyes
-at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
-say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann
-was too true a wife to let it be said in her presence.
-He was industrious and steady, and kind to her and
-the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
-both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the
-bad times, not her husband&#8217;s.</p>
-
-<p>When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and
-had two Bank of England notes to take care of, his
-difficulty and perplexity had very much increased.
-There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had
-no faith in the old savings-banks, for he could remember
-how his poor old mother had lost every penny of
-her painful savings by the breaking of the one she
-had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about
-it, after keeping such a secret so long. The money became
-a trouble to him, though perhaps it was his
-most cherished possession. Certainly he thought of it
-oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
-it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he
-took it to the work-yard with him he was fearful of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
-losing it, whilst if he left it at home he was quite as
-much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it would
-alter the face of things if she discovered that he was
-the owner of all that money, and had never told her!</p>
-
-<p>At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty
-pounds, a bright idea struck him one day. He stayed
-at home the next Sunday evening, and having found
-his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a
-good strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part
-of one of the seams large enough to take in a folded
-bank-note, and spread them as high as he could reach
-with his finger up and down the breast of it. He
-could not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been
-sewn before, but he was obliged to trust to Ann not
-noticing it, for it was a worn-out waistcoat and past
-her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
-first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat
-buttoned across it.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Good gracious, Sam!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;whatever made
-you put on that old thing?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s warmer than any I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; he answered,
-putting his hand up against the breast of it where the
-bank-notes lay safe and hidden.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s so old-fashioned,&#8217; she said, discontentedly;
-&#8216;but it doesn&#8217;t matter much if you won&#8217;t go out of
-doors in it. Men have no notion of things.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>&#8216;What was the text, Ann?&#8217; he inquired, simply
-to turn away her attention from the old waistcoat.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh! it hadn&#8217;t anything to do with us,&#8217; she replied,
-more cheerfully; &#8216;it was, &#8216;The love of money is the
-root of all evil.&#8217; Nothing for us in that, you know,
-though the preacher did say we might love it as much
-from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have
-it, nor crave it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any
-further remark. He told his wife he should always
-put on his old waistcoat when he came in from his
-work; and he continued to do so regularly for some
-time, then occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat
-simply hung on a nail behind the bedroom door,
-only being taken down once a week by Ann, to have the
-dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had
-another note to add to those he had already secured;
-and he became so skilled in opening and sewing the
-seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing any
-difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy
-Sunday, feeling a deep satisfaction in his admirable
-scheme for concealing and taking care of his savings.</p>
-
-<p>Month after month, and year after year, the old
-waistcoat kept his secret faithfully. His eyes rested
-upon it first thing in the morning and last thing at
-night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
-there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>
-grudging his wife her bits of blue and pink ribbon,
-with which she made herself smart, and altogether
-refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
-sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had
-paid hitherto at a dame&#8217;s-school. He was longing to
-make up fifty pounds; he had already forty-five in
-his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds
-sounded than forty-five!</p>
-
-<p>He had between three and four pounds towards
-this very desirable end, when one night, upon his return
-from work, he went as usual into the back room
-to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards
-the familiar object behind the door. But it was
-not there! The place was bare, and the nail empty.
-The mere sight of an empty nail in that place filled
-him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away
-in some drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was
-broken and tremulous.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Where have you put my old waistcoat?&#8217; he asked.
-He could hear her pouring the boiling water over the
-tea in the next room, and she did not answer before
-clicking down the lid of the teapot.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,&#8217; she answered,
-in a cheerful voice, &#8216;so I made a right good
-bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an old-clothesman.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
-if he had received a heavy blow, and fell on the floor.
-He did not quite lose his senses, for he felt Ann
-trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
-him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and
-sit down on the foot of the bed, but still he found
-himself giddy and stunned.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Where is it?&#8217; he cried, bursting into tears and
-sobs, like a child; &#8216;where is it?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The old waistcoat?&#8217; she asked, thinking he was
-gone out of his mind.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Yes!&#8217; he said. &#8216;There was nine five-pound notes
-in it; forty-five pounds in Bank of England notes!&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by
-his fall, and he was rambling; but as he kept on
-moaning over his loss, and confessing how he had
-concealed the notes from her, she began to believe
-him, and all the sooner when he pulled out the three
-sovereigns he had saved towards the tenth note and
-flung them on the floor in angry despair.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;And I don&#8217;t know the man from Adam!&#8217; cried
-Ann. &#8216;I never saw him before; and he&#8217;ll take very
-good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam! how
-could you? how could you keep it a secret all these
-years, when I never bought as much as a yard of
-ribbon or a collar on the sly? I can&#8217;t forgive it, or
-forget it either.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>She felt it very hard that Sam should not have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
-trusted her. The loss of the money was hard, and
-she could not help thinking what a large sum it was,
-and what it might have done for Johnny. But the
-loss of faith in her husband was ten times worse.
-How could she ever believe in him again? or how
-could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
-trusted her?</p>
-
-<p>It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed
-his money so bitterly that Ann began to fancy he
-would rather have lost her or his child. She sat silent
-and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost
-raving with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him
-the next morning before he set off to the yard,
-though she knew he had lain awake all night like
-herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast.
-It was a cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling
-the air. Sam was wet through before he reached his
-work, and there was no chance of drying his clothes.
-He was wet through when he came home, but there
-were no dry, warm things laid out for him. He
-might wait upon himself, thought Ann; it would be
-well for him to see the difference between a good wife
-and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a
-change of clothing for himself, and he sat shivering
-on the hearth all night, in spite of the warm, cheerful
-blaze of the bright fire.</p>
-
-<p>By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
-was compelled to knock off work. Severe rheumatic
-fever had set in, and the doctor said he must not
-expect to get back to the yard for three months or
-more. Perhaps it was the best thing that could have
-befallen him, for it brought back all the old warm
-love for him to his wife&#8217;s heart, which had been
-grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of
-trust in her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying
-a word to blame him now he could not get out of her
-way, as many wives would have done. Before his
-illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her
-own best clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere
-necessaries of life. Never had Sam Franklin thought
-his wife would have to go day after day to the pawn-shop;
-but she did it so cheerfully that half of the
-sting of it was taken away.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Nancy,&#8217; he said, one morning, &#8216;all night long
-I&#8217;ve had a text ringing in my head, &#8216;You cannot
-serve God and mammon,&#8217; &#8216;You cannot serve God and
-mammon!&#8217; Why, I used to think I was doing God
-a service when I put on my Sunday clothes and went
-to church of a Sunday morning with you. As if
-He&#8217;d think that were serving Him! And then all the
-week I was worshipping that old waistcoat of mine
-hanging behind the door, as much as any poor
-heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I
-begin to think it was God who put it in your heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
-to sell it to the old-clothesman. But how can I
-serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can&#8217;t do anything
-save lie in this bed and be a burden to you.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband,
-whispering, &#8216;I don&#8217;t mind a bit about you
-being a burden, as you call it;&#8217; and after that she
-opened a Bible and read these words: &#8216;Then said
-they unto him, What shall we do, that we may work
-the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto
-them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him
-whom he hath sent.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay! I see it,&#8217; he said, after a long pause, &#8216;that&#8217;s
-a work I can begin better here, perhaps, than in the
-yard at my work. I can work for God that way,
-lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And
-now I come to think of it, Jesus Christ never served
-mammon anyway, and if I believe in Him I shall try
-to be like Him. It&#8217;s no use praying to God on Sundays
-and doing contrary all the week, wailing after
-money and such like.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; answered his wife, &#8216;I&#8217;ve not been believing
-in him as I ought, for I&#8217;ve been fretting after that old
-waistcoat ever so, thinking how useful the money
-would be now; but if you&#8217;ll help me I&#8217;ll help you,
-and we&#8217;ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we
-could see him coming into the room and talking
-to us.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>&#8216;But that would be seeing, not believing.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;So it would,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;and he said himself,
-&#8220;Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.&#8221;
-We must trust in Him without seeing Him.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all
-their possessions were disappearing one after another.
-Sam was a long while in fully recovering his strength;
-and when he was fit to go back to the yard they were
-pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so
-happy in former days. Their simple faith in the
-Saviour gave them a peace different from anything
-they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had now no
-secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind,
-grew frank and open with his wife. They pinched
-and denied themselves to get out of debt; and when
-the next winter came they were again in the comfortable
-circumstances which had been theirs when Ann
-sold the valuable old waistcoat.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day,
-&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s been putting threepence a week into
-the school club. He&#8217;s got as much as nine shillings
-in, and he&#8217;s to have twopence a shilling added to it
-if we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the
-nine shillings out if we like. Come home in time to
-go with us to the school to-night.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay, ay!&#8217; said Sam, heartily, &#8216;I&#8217;ll go with Johnny
-to get his little fortune.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>It was quite dark in the evening when the three
-started off for the school where the weekly pence
-were paid in. But as they locked their parlour-door
-and turned into the street, they saw a girl about
-Johnny&#8217;s age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her
-head, standing on the outer door-sill, shivering and
-crying, as she looked at the dismal night, with flakes
-of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her
-well; she was the little girl belonging to the tenant
-of the attic two floors above them. Ann had often
-given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny to take
-to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her
-into their parlour, because she was too dirty and
-ragged. Now, as the child stood crying and shivering
-on the door-step, her heart smote her for her
-want of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her
-gently.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8217; she asked.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Father says I must go and beg,&#8217; she answered,
-crying more bitterly, &#8216;and I&#8217;m frightened, and it&#8217;s so
-bitter cold. But we must pay our rent, he says, or
-be turned out, and he doesn&#8217;t know where to go to,
-and is very ill, coughin&#8217; ever so. We owe for three
-weeks now, that&#8217;s nine shillings, and I don&#8217;t know
-where I&#8217;m to beg for nine shillings.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s all the coppers I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; said Sam
-putting three or four pence in her hand, and hurrying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>
-on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the girl pattered after
-them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
-did not speak again till they reached the school, but
-once or twice she looked back and saw the little
-ragged figure following them. There was no one in
-the school room except themselves and the gentleman
-who was ready to receive their payment and give
-them the ticket for buying clothes to the value of
-ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could write
-out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin,
-care-worn little face peering in through the window.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam,&#8217; she cried, &#8216;we don&#8217;t want it so badly
-after all, and I think if it belonged to Him, Jesus
-Christ, he would give it to the poor man up in the
-attic to pay his rent with. Don&#8217;t you think he
-would?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;But it&#8217;s Johnny&#8217;s little fortune,&#8217; said Sam, &#8216;and we
-should lose one and sixpence if we took it out for that.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Johnny &#8217;ud be glad to give it to poor little
-Bell?&#8217; asked Ann, with her hand on the boy&#8217;s
-shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Yes, mother, for little Bell,&#8217; he said readily.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s clothes are warm, if they&#8217;re shabby,&#8217;
-pursued Ann, &#8216;and there&#8217;s that poor little creature in
-rags, and barefoot. My heart aches for her, Sam.
-If it were our boy, and they&#8217;d nine shillings they
-didn&#8217;t want badly, what should we like them to do?&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>&#8216;Well, Ann, I give up,&#8217; he said; &#8216;after all, it&#8217;s your
-savings, not mine.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That
-man in the attic was very probably a drunken vagabond,
-and deserved to be turned out for not paying
-his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a
-year, and had been quiet enough, meddling with nobody,
-and not putting himself in anybody&#8217;s way.
-Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and
-then he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping
-figure, with a shabby old coat buttoned up to the throat,
-as if the man had no shirt to wear. Anyhow it was
-Ann&#8217;s business, and if any wife deserved to have her
-own way in a thing like this, it was his wife.</p>
-
-<p>Ann picked up the money, which was counted out
-to her, with a pleasant smile upon her face. It was
-snowing very fast when they opened the school-room
-door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
-pressed against the window and one foot drawn up
-out of the snow to keep it warmer. Ann called to her,
-and she ran quickly towards them.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I prayed to God for the money this morning,&#8217; she
-said, looking wistfully up into Ann&#8217;s smiling face, &#8216;but
-He couldn&#8217;t have heard me, for He never sent it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s going to send it now,&#8217; answered Ann.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Will an angel come with it?&#8217; she asked.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay!&#8217; answered Sam, stooping down and lifting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
-the child in his arms, for he was quite strong again,
-and she was too thin and puny to be much weight.
-He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and
-if Ann was going to do them a good turn, why should
-he not do another?</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;An angel with shining, white clothes on, and
-wings?&#8217; said little Bell.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;No; she&#8217;s wearing an old bonnet and a faded
-shawl,&#8217; answered Sam, &#8216;and her wings aren&#8217;t grown
-yet, I&#8217;m glad to say.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;For shame, Sam!&#8217; cried his wife; but she was
-glad to hear from his voice that he was agreeing
-heartily with her self-denial. It was not far back to
-their home, but instead of turning into their own
-pleasant room they all marched up two flights of
-stairs to the attic.</p>
-
-<p>It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted
-by a skylight, of which two or three of the panes were
-broken, and a few stray snowflakes were floating in,
-and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
-old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in
-it; and in one corner lay a hard mattress, on which
-they could see in the dim light the figure of a man,
-barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted up
-his head to speak to them a racking cough choked
-him, and it was a minute or two before he could utter
-a word.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>&#8216;We&#8217;ve been your neighbours a long while,&#8217; said
-Ann, gently, &#8216;and I&#8217;m ashamed I never came to see
-you before. We&#8217;ve brought little Bell home, for it&#8217;s
-a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up
-person, scarcely.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;But the landlord says he&#8217;ll turn us out to-morrow,&#8217;
-gasped the sick man.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;No! no!&#8217; answered Ann; &#8216;that&#8217;s all right.
-We&#8217;ve got the money ready for him, and now we&#8217;ll
-make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
-and bring me a light, that&#8217;s a good fellow.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m not going to live long,&#8217; said the stranger, &#8216;and
-I&#8217;m afraid of being turned out, but I can never pay
-you back again. There&#8217;s no more work in me, and
-my money&#8217;s done; I can&#8217;t pay you.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Never mind,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;we&#8217;re only doing as
-we&#8217;d be done by, so don&#8217;t you worry about it. Here&#8217;s
-Sam coming with a candle; and now I&#8217;ll put your
-bed straight.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>But when the light was brought in, and Ann
-looked down at the poor covering on the mattress,
-she uttered a little scream of amazement, and sank
-down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam
-himself stood as still as a stone, staring, as she did,
-at the clothes which lay across the bed. There was
-his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
-which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
-possible that the nine five-pound notes were still safely
-hidden in the lining?</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine,&#8217; he said, as soon
-as he could speak; &#8216;I never thought to see it again.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I bought it soon after I came here,&#8217; answered the
-attic tenant; &#8216;an old-clothesman offered it for a
-shilling. It&#8217;s been a good warm waistcoat; but I&#8217;ve
-worn it for the last time.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll give you a couple of blankets for it,&#8217; said Sam,
-eagerly. &#8216;My wife sold it without asking me, and it
-was my wedding waistcoat, you see. I didn&#8217;t want to
-part with it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,&#8217; he
-answered; &#8216;you&#8217;ve done enough for me already.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;No,&#8217; said Ann, &#8216;I&#8217;ll bring the blankets.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>She was trembling with excitement, but she would
-not leave the poor man until she had stopped up the
-broken panes, made the bed comfortable, and wrapped
-him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went
-down to their own room, and found Sam waiting for
-her before opening the seam in the lining of the
-waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed to
-unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of
-paper. Yes; they were all there, the nine five-pound
-notes he had never expected to touch again.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; she cried, with tears in her eyes, &#8216;do
-you think you will love them again?&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at
-the notes, with a strange expression of fear upon his
-face. He compared the peace and happiness of the
-last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
-been to him. He thought of how he had begun to
-learn to think of God when he awoke in the morning,
-and when he was falling asleep at night. If he kept
-the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be
-right to throw away what God might intend them to
-keep as a provision against some time of need? Perhaps
-God saw the time was come when he might be
-trusted with money again.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ann,&#8217; he said, &#8216;If I thought these notes would
-tempt me to serve mammon again, I&#8217;d throw them all
-on to the fire yonder. You take charge of them, my
-lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank,
-that was opened a few months ago. Thank God I
-lost them, and thank God I&#8217;ve found them again.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his
-wife nursed and tended the dying man in the attic as
-tenderly as if he had been their brother, teaching him
-what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick
-bed he might work the works of God, by believing on
-Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent. When he died,
-blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
-took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much
-upon her as the money laid by in the savings-bank.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>
-But she grew up like a daughter to them; and not
-long ago she became their daughter by marrying
-Johnny Franklin. The wedding took place a day or
-two before Christmas, the anniversary of the day
-when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune for
-little Bell.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; said his wife, as she thought of it,
-&#8216;how would it have been if we&#8217;d kept the nine shillings
-to buy clothes for Johnny?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;We should have kept the nine shillings and lost
-the forty-five pounds,&#8217; answered Sam. &#8216;It&#8217;s true, &#8220;He
-that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord;
-and that which he hath given will he pay him
-again.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Yes, but it&#8217;s more than that,&#8217; said Ann; &#8216;we&#8217;d a
-chance of doing something like Jesus Christ would
-have done in our place, and we did it. That was the
-best of all.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image028.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-<p class="caption">She saw the stranger produce a pistol.</p>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 46.</i></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
-A HAPPY NEW YEAR.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image029.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p class="drop-cap">IF you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton
-who was the prettiest and best girl in the town,
-they would, one and all, have answered promptly, &#8216;Dr.
-Layard&#8217;s daughter.&#8217; There was scarcely a poor man
-or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard&#8217;s
-surgery, where he gave advice gratis to all who could
-not really afford to pay for it. And there was scarcely
-one who did not know the look of Dr. Layard&#8217;s bright,
-comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
-tender smile on Kate Layard&#8217;s face, as she listened
-pityingly to their sad stories, and sent them away
-home with happier hearts and lighter spirits.</p>
-
-<p>If it had not been for her poor people, as she
-called them, Kate Layard&#8217;s life would have been
-utterly dull and idle. She had no household duties<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
-to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
-of all such matters whilst she was still a little
-girl, would not brook any interference with her rule;
-and preferred to have Kate sitting in the drawing-room,
-idly busy over fancy work, or practising music
-to which no one listened, and painting water-colour
-sketches, at which no one looked. There were three
-boys younger than herself, but they were all away,
-either at school or college; and the long days passed
-by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really
-worth the doing. But for her father&#8217;s poor patients,
-and he had a good many of them, she would have felt
-her life to be quite lost.</p>
-
-<p>It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November,
-with a thick yellow fog pressing close against the
-windows, which prevented her from going out, that
-she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
-Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements
-for a thorough cleaning down before Christmas;
-but she steadily refused Kate&#8217;s offers of help. Secretly
-Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding
-out that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper
-as herself; and she shrank from the idea of
-going into some little lonely house of her own, where
-she could have no more than one little maid to order
-about, and no scope at all for her own powers. She
-did not think of Kate having no scope for hers. If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
-she had, it is quite possible that she would have laid
-down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave
-Kate her proper post.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I wish, something would happen to me!&#8217; sighed
-Kate, on that dull November morning. At the very
-moment a servant brought in a letter, just delivered
-by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
-handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a
-vision of her father&#8217;s surgery flashed across her mind,
-with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking young man in
-her father&#8217;s place, giving advice and prescription, and
-good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It
-was Philip Carey, her father&#8217;s assistant, who had left
-them some months ago. It seemed to Kate that she
-had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the
-letter was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A
-bright colour flushed up in Kate&#8217;s face. If there had
-been any one in the room, she would have carried it
-away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet
-know a single word in it. But she was quite alone,
-and no one could see the colour in her cheeks, or the
-ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and made the
-lines look dim.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I used to fancy sometimes,&#8217; said Philip Carey,
-&#8216;that I might win your love; but I never dared to be
-sure of it. I was too poor then, and my future was
-too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
-But now I am appointed the assistant physician at
-Lentford Hospital, I think your father would be
-satisfied with my prospects. I do not write to him
-but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can
-trust your whole happiness to me, write but the one
-word &#8220;Come,&#8221; and I will come over immediately after
-my official appointment on the 30th, and speak to Dr.
-Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand
-your silence.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands,
-gazing blissfully into the fire. All the world was
-changed, quite suddenly. The day was no longer dull
-and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true.
-Philip Carey was the very man to be a physician in the
-Lentford Hospital; he was so gentle and considerate
-with the poor, and so skilful as well. She recollected
-how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned
-after him when he went away; and what a pang it
-had often been to her, a pang yet a pleasure, to hear
-his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good she
-must be to make herself good enough for him! She
-must be the best doctor&#8217;s wife in all Lentford.</p>
-
-<p>With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word
-&#8216;Come&#8217; as Philip had suggested; and then it occurred
-to her that she might catch the morning post, and he
-would receive her answer before night. She directed
-the envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
-across the square; dropping it into the letter-box
-with her own hands, and looking after it, as one does
-sometimes when the letter is a very important one.</p>
-
-<p>Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt
-Brooks was in a rather testy temper, and it was not
-easy to begin such a confidential disclosure to her. Dr.
-Layard was out all day, and only came in late at night,
-worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the
-secret being a secret. Everybody would know quite
-soon enough; for her letter had reached her on the
-28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th, for
-Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride
-to Ilverton as soon as his official appointment was
-confirmed.</p>
-
-<p>Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came.
-Towards the close of the day Kate grew more
-agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might come in
-at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate
-was fully prepared to see him arrive then. But he
-did not appear; and the dinner passed very nearly in
-silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr. Layard
-was tired with his day&#8217;s work.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Do you know, Kate,&#8217; he said suddenly, &#8216;young
-Carey is appointed assistant physician at Lentford
-Hospital? It&#8217;s a splendid opening for so young a man.
-But he&#8217;s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
-content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
-Katie, Katie, you should have set your cap at him
-when he was here; you&#8217;ll never have such a chance
-again.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile
-played about her lips, ready to break into a happy
-laugh. If Philip would but come in now!</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Don&#8217;t put such notions into Kate&#8217;s head,&#8217; said
-Aunt Brooks, precisely; &#8216;no well behaved young lady
-would think of setting her cap at any one.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour
-after another passed by, and still he did not come.
-She went to the window, and opened it impatiently.
-She began to wonder if he meant to come in by
-the last train, and stay all night. But what would
-Aunt Brooks say? And what a strange hour
-it would be to begin to talk to her father about
-such a subject! She fancied it would take a very
-long time to introduce it, and afterwards to discuss
-it. But at half-past eleven Kate was compelled
-to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the
-fever of her new happiness having calmed a little,
-she slept profoundly, and dreamed of no trouble.</p>
-
-<p>But again there followed a morning and evening
-of expectation, dogged hour after hour by a strengthening
-disappointment. Kate sat moping over the fire, as
-Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip&#8217;s
-absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>
-carefully smoothed out again, and she read it till she
-knew every word by heart. But the pride and gladness
-died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of hope
-deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out
-of her life, and left her in deeper darkness than before.
-She waited and trusted till she could wait and trust
-no longer; and then she gave herself up to the full
-sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.</p>
-
-<p>There was no one to notice the change except
-her father, who was too busy to bestow more than
-a passing thought or two to her melancholy face and
-fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah&#8217;s gourd,
-had sprung up in a night and perished in a night; and
-like him she was ready to exclaim, &#8216;It is better for me
-to die than to live.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered
-at all from her overwhelming sense of wretchedness
-and mortification. She was a pitiful and tender-hearted
-girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and
-she began to feel as if it was necessary for her own
-relief to make this miserable Christmas a time of
-pleasure and festivity to some of her poorer neighbours.
-If she could not see happiness with her own
-eyes, she would like to look at it through other
-people&#8217;s. It was impossible to remove the heaviness
-of her heart, but she might try to lighten others&#8217;. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
-one evening when she and her father were alone together,
-she approached the subject cautiously.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Father,&#8217; she said, &#8216;I want to make somebody in
-the world happier.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful.
-The burden that was oppressing her had made her
-feel that other people had heavy burdens to bear.
-She was learning that, in order to bear her own well,
-it was necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard
-was distressed by the mournfulness of his daughter&#8217;s
-tone.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Make somebody happier!&#8217; he repeated; &#8216;well, it
-is easy enough to do that.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;How?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Help them,&#8217; answered Dr. Layard; &#8216;a little
-help is worth a deal of pity. Helping people is
-a good step towards making them and yourself
-happy.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;That is what I want to do,&#8217; said Kate, eagerly.
-&#8216;I want you to manage so that I can have some of
-your poor patients to tea here, in the large kitchen,
-on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit
-happier, I think. I don&#8217;t know that it would do
-much good, but they would enjoy it, wouldn&#8217;t they,
-father?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It would do them good, Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
-&#8216;making people happy sometimes goes before making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
-them good. In the hospital at times we make
-our patients as happy as they can be before the
-sharp operation; sometimes the sharp operation has
-to come first. We&#8217;ll try the merry Christmas for
-them this year, and then you must do what you can
-for them afterwards.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very
-gracious assent to Dr. Layard&#8217;s proposal, on condition
-that Kate took all the trouble of preparing for the
-guests, and entertaining them when they came. It
-made her busy enough for two or three days, and she
-tried to throw all her sad heart into it.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, &#8216;we
-have forgotten one of our old favourites, who has
-not been here for months. You recollect old Mrs.
-Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins
-and tapes? Of all my poor patients, she ought to be
-present at your <i>soir&eacute;e</i>.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party
-Kate&#8217;s <i>soir&eacute;e</i>, and had taken an unusual interest
-in it. She was feeling more sorrowful than ever, this
-Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly
-gay. She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she
-found it difficult to get up a smile when her father
-spoke of the <i>soir&eacute;e</i>. How different it would have been
-if Philip Carey had been true to her!</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?&#8217; she asked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
-willing to escape from her sad thoughts for a little
-time.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Easily,&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;she lives in Wright&#8217;s
-Court, out of New Street, the last house but two on
-your left hand, I think. Anybody would tell you
-where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>It was a dark night when Kate started out, without
-Bob, for she was not frightened; she was too miserable
-to be frightened. The passing relief she had
-felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas
-tea-party was spent, and the universal merriment only
-served to deepen her own loneliness and disappointment.
-The streets were full and noisy, but not disorderly.
-The church bells were ringing in anticipation
-of the coming day, and a general holiday tone was
-diffused through the crowd, though business was going
-on briskly. Groups of little children were gathering
-round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
-Christmas presents for themselves and each other from
-the magnificent display within, and laughing with
-pathetic mirth at their own daring dreams. Kate
-caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at
-her own vanished dream.</p>
-
-<p>Wright&#8217;s Court was not a good specimen of street
-architecture and paving. The houses were as low as
-they could be to boast of two stories, and the pavement
-was eccentric, making it necessary to take each
-step with great caution. An open gutter ran down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
-the middle, and through the passage which formed the
-entrance; a passage four feet wide and twenty feet
-long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street, which
-shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her
-shadow bewilderingly before her. The court itself had
-no light but that which came through the uncurtained
-windows of the dwellings on each side, through which
-she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
-before she reached Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s door, where she stood
-a minute or two in the dark, looking through the small
-panes of the casement close beside it.</p>
-
-<p>It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough
-for the furniture it contained. There was an old box
-under the window, and one shelf against the wall,
-holding all Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s china and plate. The only
-chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs,
-were drawn up to the fireplace, in which a few coals
-were burning. Two old tin candlesticks and a flat-iron
-adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw, with
-a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared
-to decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had
-been stuck into each candlestick, as well as into every
-other pane of the little window. Mrs. Duffy herself
-was seated in the chair, apparently amusing herself
-with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was
-a black teapot and a cracked cup and saucer on the
-table, but there was no food upon it, and when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>
-held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
-drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and
-looked placidly into the embers, shaking her head a
-little from time to time, but gently, as if more in remembrance
-of the past than in reproach of the present.
-She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no
-teeth, and her cheeks formed a little ball, like a withered
-rosy apple, between her hollow eyes and sunken
-mouth.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The Lord love you, my dear,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
-when Kate went in, and delivered her message, &#8216;and
-the good doctor, too. It isn&#8217;t everybody as has such
-friends as me&mdash;on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body
-feels so lonesome wi&#8217;out friends. I don&#8217;t mind so
-much on working days, my dear, but one wants friends
-of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi&#8217;out
-friends; but one can&#8217;t love wi&#8217;out friends.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;No, indeed!&#8217; said Kate, with a profound sigh.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;And I&#8217;ve got such good friends!&#8217; continued Mrs.
-Duffy, triumphantly; &#8216;there&#8217;s one as gave me sixpence,
-and another threepence, and another twopence, only
-this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I&#8217;ve
-bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you
-know. You&#8217;d maybe like to see my Christmas joint
-like other folks, shouldn&#8217;t you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I should very much,&#8217; answered Kate.</p>
-
-<p>The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
-possession, for it had been laid carefully between a
-plate and a basin, and these were well tied up in a
-ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
-cat. Kate&#8217;s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her
-eyelids smarted a little as if with coming tears, when
-she saw it. It was a morsel of coarse beef, which would
-not have covered the old woman&#8217;s hand, but which she
-regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;That cost sevenpence,&#8217; she said, &#8216;and I bought two
-pennyworth of greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with
-it&mdash;me and a friend of mine, as is coming to dine with
-me. It&#8217;s a very poor lame girl as lives down the court;
-very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to
-eat my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant
-to me. The neighbour next door has promised to
-lend me a chair; we&#8217;re all so friendly one with another.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Then if you have a visitor you must bring her
-with you to tea,&#8217; said Kate, &#8216;and any children you
-have. Haven&#8217;t you got any sons or daughters?
-You&#8217;d enjoy yourself more with them there.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Bless your kind heart all the same,&#8217; answered
-Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful face overcast for a moment;
-&#8216;I never had more than one bonny boy, and he went
-off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My
-Johnny he was. Sometimes I think as I shall never
-see him again. I was thinking of him when your
-knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
-and I was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt
-whether Johnny &#8217;ud know his poor old mother again if
-he did come back.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;How long is it since you heard from him?&#8217;
-enquired Kate.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I never heard from him at all,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
-in a matter-of-course tone; &#8216;he couldn&#8217;t write, and I
-couldn&#8217;t write. But he went to Australy, and he is in
-Australy now, if he hasn&#8217;t tumbled off. I can&#8217;t help
-thinking at times he must ha&#8217; tumbled off, though the
-flies never do tumble off the ceiling. I&#8217;ve watched
-&#8217;em for hours and hours together, thinking of my
-Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They have
-to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like
-them flies; but my Johnny wasn&#8217;t brought up to it,
-and I&#8217;m afeard for him at times.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, no, he couldn&#8217;t tumble off,&#8217; said Kate, laughing
-a little; &#8216;but are you sure you would know him yourself,
-Mrs. Duffy, after thirty years?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Can a mother forget her own boy?&#8217; asked the
-old woman; &#8216;ay, ay; I should know my Johnny
-among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I&#8217;ll be glad
-to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many
-thanks to you for asking her. I&#8217;ve got to go out into the
-country to sing a carril or two at a farm-house, where
-they&#8217;re always very good to me; but that&#8217;ll be afore
-dinner; and we&#8217;ll come punctual to your house at five<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
-o&#8217;clock, me and my friend; and a merry Christmas
-and a happy New Year to every one of us, and you
-above all, my dear.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New
-Year it will be for me,&#8217; thought Kate; but she did
-not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting her
-down the court with her only candle, which guttered
-and wasted terribly in the night wind; and the last
-glance she had of the kindly, withered old face was
-lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of the
-dark passage.</p>
-
-<p>Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas
-sun was ready to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused
-up to the fact that if she was to sing a &#8216;carril&#8217; a mile
-and a half away in the country, it was time to set out.
-Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin,
-scanty blanket she had been shivering under all night,
-were more attractive to her at seventy years of age
-than the long, lonely walk, through lanes deep down
-between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with
-mingled mud and ice. But she was of a brave and
-grateful heart, and after a short prayer for herself and
-everybody, uttered before quitting the feeble warmth
-of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
-the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard
-the shrill voices of children chanting some Christmas
-ditty; and she thought of Johnny when he was a boy,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
-with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
-all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and
-singing in a voice which could not fail to rouse the
-most determined sleeper.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He came home once with three shillings and twopence
-halfpenny, all in ha&#8217;pence,&#8217; thought Mrs. Duffy,
-wiping away a tear from the sunken corner of her eye.</p>
-
-<p>It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but
-as soon as she had reached the porch, and lifting up
-her quavering voice, began, &#8216;God rest you, merry
-gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,&#8217; the door was
-flung open quickly, and she was called in, and set before
-such a breakfast as she had not seen for years.
-Poor old Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s heart was very full, and before
-she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and
-tremulous voice: &#8216;I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks
-this year. It&#8217;s like them blessed Christmases we shall
-have when everybody&#8217;s friends, when the lion is friends
-with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
-Here&#8217;s Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter asked me to tea, and
-I&#8217;ve got a Christmas joint, and now there&#8217;s such a
-breakfast as I never see before, and me done nothing
-for it. I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks; but it&#8217;s a
-blessed Christmas, it is.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;You&#8217;ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,&#8217;
-said the farmer&#8217;s wife, &#8216;and my husband&#8217;s father
-has given me a shilling for you.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after
-breakfast sang two or three carols, with as much zeal
-and energy as though they were sure to bring down
-many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
-after nine o&#8217;clock when she left the house; but there
-was the Christmas dinner to cook, and it was necessary
-to go home early for that. She bade them good-by,
-and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
-winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way
-back to the town.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into
-the high road, when a man suddenly started up from
-behind the hedge, and laid his hand roughly on her
-shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
-ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at
-that early hour, to be half stupefied with drink. She
-looked into his coarse face, with a feeling of terror
-which was new to her.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I want a shilling off you,&#8217; he said, fiercely.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A shilling!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;where should a poor
-woman like me have a shilling from?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he demanded.</p>
-
-<p>Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on
-never having told a lie. She looked up and down the
-road, but there was not a creature in sight; and she
-glanced again hopelessly into the man&#8217;s savage and
-stupid face. What should she do? To part with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
-the shilling just given to her would be a very great
-loss; and she knew it would only be spent in the
-nearest public-house. Should she be doing very
-wrong to deny having one? It was the first time for
-years that she had had a whole silver shilling about
-her; and any moment during that time she could have
-replied &#8216;No&#8217; boldly and truthfully. Might she not say
-&#8216;No&#8217; just this once?</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he repeated, shaking
-her shoulder roughly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Well,&#8217; she said, feebly, &#8216;I haven&#8217;t had a shilling
-ever so long; but I have got one now. I&#8217;m a very
-poor old woman, my good young man. If I&#8217;d got a
-penny, I&#8217;d give it you, and welcome.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I must have your shilling,&#8217; he said, doggedly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I can&#8217;t give it you, indeed,&#8217; she answered; &#8216;there&#8217;s
-my rent, and coals, and other things; and I&#8217;m very
-poor. You&#8217;d only drink it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw
-the stranger produce a pistol from under his jacket,
-and point it at her. There was a sudden flash before
-her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
-without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank
-on the high road. A few minutes later, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
-brougham was stopping at a toll-gate just outside the
-town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
-past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
-was inside, with Kate, who was going out with him to
-see her godfather, a clergyman in the next parish.
-The doctor, having finished what he had to say to
-the gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said
-in passing.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He says there&#8217;s a woman up the road, who&#8217;s been
-shot, sir,&#8217; answered the servant, &#8216;and he says to me,
-&#8220;Look sharp after her, she&#8217;s an old woman, and very
-poor.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Shot!&#8217; exclaimed Dr. Layard; &#8216;drive on then,
-quickly. Katie, don&#8217;t be frightened. Gate, look after
-that fellow who has just gone through.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The last order was shouted through the window,
-as the carriage rolled rapidly away. In a few minutes
-they gained the spot where the old woman was lying
-as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
-staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her.
-Her old wrinkled face had lost all its apple-red, and
-her grey hair, scanty and short, had fallen down from
-under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
-exclaimed in one breath, &#8216;Mrs. Duffy!&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a
-little shaken, and exceedingly troubled. She left the
-carriage, and sat down on the bank, supporting Mrs.
-Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
-examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and
-shoulder. His expression was very grave, and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
-stood for a few moments deliberating silently, with his
-eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
-and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Is it dangerous?&#8217; asked Kate, falteringly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Almost fatal,&#8217; he answered; &#8216;within a touch of
-death. There&#8217;s one chance. I&#8217;m thinking of driving
-straight to Lentford Hospital. It&#8217;s a good level road
-all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
-town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift
-the old woman, and place her in an easy posture
-against you. Could you hold her pretty much as you
-are now for an hour or more? I&#8217;d do it myself; but
-you could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong
-enough?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I will be strong enough; I will do it,&#8217; said Kate,
-lifting up her head with determination and endurance
-in every line of her face.</p>
-
-<p>It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage
-was a new one, handsomely lined and fitted up; but
-the servant&#8217;s soul ran more upon such subjects, and
-he began to protest against lifting the wounded and
-bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old
-creature, too, thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Dolt! idiot! brute!&#8217; ejaculated Dr. Layard, in
-high wrath; and Bob, who had only uttered half his
-protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
-carriage bowled rapidly along the smooth, straight old
-Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no sign of life,
-but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
-upon Kate&#8217;s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as
-she could, now and then clasping her warm fingers
-about her wrist, which was knotted and brown with
-age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to
-Kate&#8217;s touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with
-Bob, looked round from time to time, nodding to her,
-but with so grave a face that she felt the case was
-very serious. She thanked God fervently when the
-spires of Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of
-the morning chimes fell upon her ear. There were
-streams of people going to church, exchanging cheery
-salutations with one another; but many a person
-caught a glimpse of Kate&#8217;s pale and agitated face, and
-the grey head lying against her neck, and felt a shadow
-pass over their own Christmas gladness.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Layard&#8217;s carriage drove into the courtyard of
-the hospital, and then Kate was quickly relieved of
-her burden. Mrs. Duffy was carried away, and Dr.
-Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious and
-troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower
-struck one quarter after another, and Bob drove up
-and down at a snail&#8217;s pace in dreary and monotonous
-turns. At length some one beckoned to him from the
-hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>
-which betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the
-last moment that it was Dr. Carey, not her father,
-who had summoned him; and she shrank back,
-breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage
-which concealed her best from him.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Bob, your master says you must drive home,&#8217; said
-Dr. Carey; &#8216;he will return by train in the afternoon.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;And the old woman, sir?&#8217; said Bob, &#8216;how&#8217;s she
-going on?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Very little hope,&#8217; answered Philip Carey, whose
-face Kate could not see, but whose voice made every
-nerve thrill.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Is it murder?&#8217; asked Bob, who had known Dr.
-Carey as his master&#8217;s assistant, and stood on very
-little ceremony with him.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m afraid so,&#8217; he said; &#8216;how are they all at home,
-Bob? Miss Brooks and Miss Kate?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;She&#8217;s in there,&#8217; said Bob, pointing with his thumb
-to the carriage. Kate roused herself to lift up her
-head with dignity, sit erect upon her seat, and meet
-Dr. Carey&#8217;s salutation calmly. It was nearly four weeks
-since he had written to her, and she had replied,
-&#8216;Come.&#8217; He looked at her with an amazed and confused
-expression, and took off his hat, but did not
-attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
-bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still
-bareheaded, and as if lost in thought, walked slowly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
-back up the broad steps of the portico, and Kate cried
-most of the way home.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I never saw anything like that,&#8217; thought Bob;
-&#8216;and they used to be like brother and sister, almost.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned,
-and then he had to see the superintendent
-of police. The stranger who had passed through the
-toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
-far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he
-was taken. Kate&#8217;s Christmas party passed off more
-successfully because one of the invited guests had been
-almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
-wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the
-farmer&#8217;s wife came to tell of Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s morning
-visit, and her cheerful carols just before the villain
-met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
-over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas
-by going to bed with a very heavy heart.</p>
-
-<p>The next day the stranger was found and sworn
-to by Bob, though he flatly denied having been anywhere
-in the direction of the toll-bar. Neither Dr.
-Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
-passed on the farther side of the carriage while they
-were talking at the other window. He was an utter
-stranger in the neighbourhood, without friends, and he
-stated that he was on the tramp. A very old pistol
-was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
-had been shot. The man was sent in safe custody to
-Lentford, to be brought face to face with the old
-woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
-to identify him and give her evidence against him.</p>
-
-<p>For twenty-four hours or more it continued very
-doubtful whether the poor old creature would ever
-rally. She had not spoken since she had been found,
-but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her
-hospital bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like
-the momentary glimmer of the sun on a cloudy day
-crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as if she
-were whispering. She knew when they were doing
-anything for her, for she tried to help herself, to raise
-her thin hand, or turn her grey head upon the pillow
-for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had
-known her in former days, spent as much time as he
-could beside her bed; and towards the close of the
-day, just before the night nurse was coming to take
-her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but
-very slowly and faintly, and he stooped over her to
-listen to what she said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter! Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter!&#8217;
-she murmured.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Would you like to see Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter?&#8217;
-asked Philip Carey, in his clearest and most pleasant
-tone.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; whispered the old woman.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>&#8216;To-morrow you shall,&#8217; he said; &#8216;it is too late
-now. To-morrow.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she assented, cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;You will be better to-morrow,&#8217; he suggested.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;No, no,&#8217; murmured the old woman. &#8216;He shot
-me dead because I wouldn&#8217;t give him my shilling.
-He robbed me.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue
-sugar-paper in your pocket,&#8217; said Dr. Carey. A
-sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor drawn
-face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.</p>
-
-<p>She was certainly somewhat better in the morning,
-and watching the people who were about her; her mind
-was clear, and she evidently knew her circumstances,
-where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
-noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s
-sunken blue eyes brightened, yet filled with tears, as
-she looked up into their faces bending pityingly above
-her.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Well, old friend,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, heartily, &#8216;you
-are better already. We are going to pull you through,
-you&#8217;ll see, Carey and me. We know what a tough
-old lady you are. Carey used to play you some
-tricks in the old times, and now he&#8217;ll make it up
-to you by pulling you through. Won&#8217;t you, Carey?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now
-she sat down, feeling weak and tremulous, on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
-chair at Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s head, keeping her eyes fixed
-upon the old woman&#8217;s face. Dr. Carey&#8217;s voice sounded
-oddly in her ears, as if he was speaking in very loud
-and constrained tones.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I am going to do my best,&#8217; he said, &#8216;but you
-must keep yourself quite still now, Mrs. Duffy, and
-get up your strength to tell the magistrate your story.
-You are a brave old woman, and won&#8217;t be afraid;
-and I&#8217;ll tell them you never told a lie in your life.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had
-not spoken yet, but she stretched out her hand, and
-tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey seemed to
-understand her meaning perfectly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;You want Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter to sit where you
-can see her?&#8217; he said. &#8216;You want her to stay with
-you?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she answered. &#8216;God bless her!&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>It was Philip Carey who moved Kate&#8217;s chair, and
-placed it in a convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy
-to see her. She glanced at him once, but his eyes
-were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
-one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he
-and her father went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling
-now and then, closed her eyes and seemed to fall into
-a doze.</p>
-
-<p>It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward
-was a small one, containing only four beds, and no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
-other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and had
-all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine
-was falling through the farthest window upon
-the bare white walls. Her mind was strangely divided
-between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
-was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken
-so kindly, even affectionately, to this poor, friendless
-old woman, but he had not spoken a word to her.
-How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel towards
-her? What reason or motive could possibly have
-made him change his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably,
-and plunge her into so much wretchedness
-and perplexity? She could not bear to meet
-him, yet she would have to bear it, for her father was
-so fond of him. How proud and happy her father
-would have been in him as his son in-law! It was
-too hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even
-have the misery some day of seeing his wife, the girl
-who had supplanted her, and made her life a blank.
-For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her
-ever to love another man. No one else could be to
-her what Philip Carey had been.</p>
-
-<p>The hour passed away, and there were several
-quiet signs of excitement. Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey
-came in, felt the old woman&#8217;s pulse, and gave her a
-cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she
-had better remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
-her hand closely, and wished her to stay. Three or
-four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about the
-bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her
-story, which was written down, word for word, from
-her lips. She had not much to say, and it was soon
-over.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Could you identify the individual?&#8217; inquired the
-magistrate&#8217;s clerk.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Should you know the man again?&#8217; asked Dr.
-Carey, who was standing close to Kate, and near old
-Mrs. Duffy.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Ay, to be sure,&#8217; she answered, with more energy
-than she had displayed before.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He has been taken;&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;that is,
-a man has been taken up, and we think he is the man.
-You must see him yourself.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate&#8217;s
-hand tightly. It might have been Dr. Carey&#8217;s hand,
-for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
-answered to it.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Come, come,&#8217; he said, encouragingly, &#8216;you never
-used to be a coward; and you have only to open your
-eyes, and look at him. You have plenty of friends
-about you, you know.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s a dreadful man,&#8217; she said, in a whisper, &#8216;but
-let him come.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
-she listened to the regular tramp of the policeman,
-and the shambling tread of the murderer, coming
-down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
-closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful
-detective gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back
-of Kate&#8217;s chair, so close to her it almost touched her
-shoulder, and one of her brown curls fell upon it. The
-footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and stopped
-there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened
-glance. The murderer was a middle-aged man,
-with a full, heavy, red face, and light hair just turning
-grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole; he might
-have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for
-the drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was
-looking down at the wounded old woman with an air
-half sorrowful and half ashamed; but a little sullen
-also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
-policeman at his right hand was the only sign to
-mark him out as a criminal; and he seemed as much
-on the alert as if he expected him to make a second
-murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For
-a minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs.
-Duffy&#8217;s eyelids were closed, and her lips moved as if
-in prayer. She looked up at last; and her dim blue
-eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child
-who wakes frightened, changed like those of a child,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
-when it sees that the face bending over it is a familiar
-face.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Why,&#8217; she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad,
-&#8216;it&#8217;s my boy! It&#8217;s my Johnny!&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion,
-and she was about to raise herself up to stretch
-out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was quick enough
-to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at
-Kate&#8217;s feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the
-old woman. Every one else stood motionless and
-thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir hand
-or foot.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s my son as went to Australy,&#8217; continued
-Mrs. Duffy; &#8216;please let him come and kiss me.
-Don&#8217;t you know your poor old mother again, Johnny?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Oh, mother! mother!&#8217; exclaimed the man,
-striking his hard hands together, &#8216;that&#8217;s my mother
-sir, as I came back to, and was looking for. I hadn&#8217;t
-seen her these thirty years, and she&#8217;s nothing like the
-woman she was. You&#8217;ll let me go and kiss her,
-maybe?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>He had spoken to the policeman next to him,
-and his official eye was softened; but the magistrates
-were there, and the indulgence was not his to
-grant.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Is this the person who attempted first to rob
-and then to murder you?&#8217; asked the magistrate&#8217;s
-clerk.</p>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>&#8216;Oh, dear no! it&#8217;s my boy,&#8217; said the old woman;
-&#8216;he&#8217;d never shoot at his mother, bless you! It was
-quite a different man, not him; a dreadful man.
-That&#8217;s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers.
-He&#8217;d never lift up his hand agen me; please let him
-go.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>There was no question in Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s mind as
-to whether she was telling the truth or not. Her
-gladness was so great that her mind utterly refused
-the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
-could have thought of robbing and murdering her.
-If he had been brought before her red-handed with
-her blood, she would still have believed herself mistaken.
-It was some ruffian and monster who had shot
-her, not her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot
-eyes were filled with tears, and his voice, as he began
-to speak, was choked and husky.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Sir,&#8217; he said, addressing no one in particular,
-&#8216;she&#8217;s not like the same woman, but she&#8217;s my mother.
-She had brown hair, and was very strong. I never
-thought of her being like that. I wish I&#8217;d kept free
-from drink. Nobody knows what drink&#8217;ll bring him
-to. She&#8217;s my mother; and I came back to work
-for her, if she were still alive. I&#8217;ll never taste a drop
-again as long&#8217;s I live.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Hush, hush!&#8217; said Dr. Layard, coming behind
-him, and tapping him on the shoulder; &#8216;hold your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
-tongue, my good fellow. You&#8217;ll make your mother
-worse again if you talk. There&#8217;s a good chance for
-her if she&#8217;s kept quiet.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The magistrates and their clerk walked away to
-the end of the ward, and held a short consultation
-there. There was not much doubt that this man was
-the right man; but there was no one to bring home
-the crime to him, except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
-servant, swore positively that he was the man
-who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered;
-but the woman herself denied that it was he
-who had attacked her. To be sure there was more
-than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she persisted
-in it, what was to be done?</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;You must remember you are upon your oath,&#8217;
-said the elder magistrate, &#8216;and probably upon your
-deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and tell
-me if he is not the man who shot at you.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling
-more and more, until her pale, shrunken face grew
-radiant with happiness.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Why, it couldn&#8217;t be him,&#8217; she said, &#8216;how could it?
-Ay, ay; I could swear it were never him; my Johnny.
-Please let him stay aside of me for a bit. The police
-may stop for him if you like; but he&#8217;d never do it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Carey and I will be bail for him, if it&#8217;s necessary,&#8217;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
-said Dr. Layard, &#8216;only let the poor fellow shake
-hands with his mother. There, let him go.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman&#8217;s
-grasp, and sunk down on his knees at his
-mother&#8217;s feet, hiding his face in the bed-clothes, and
-sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time
-his mother&#8217;s eyes were shining upon him, and her
-arms, still kept firmly down by Dr. Carey, were
-trembling to touch him.</p>
-
-<p>The magistrates and their retinue went their way,
-leaving Mrs. Duffy with her son, while Kate and
-Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof from them, and
-from each other. The man crept closer and closer
-to his mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon
-her hand. There was a deep silence in the ward.
-Outside in the corridor, through the half open door,
-could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final
-orders.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Mother,&#8217; sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and
-faltering voice, &#8216;can you forgive me?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Why! there&#8217;s nothing to forgive, Johnny,&#8217; she
-said, &#8216;and I&#8217;m so happy, I&#8217;d forgive everybody. I&#8217;d
-forgive the raskill as shot me. I have forgive him
-already, Johnny.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I want you to get well, mother,&#8217; he said, with
-desperate earnestness, &#8216;and I&#8217;ll make it all up to you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>
-I&#8217;m come back to work for you, and indeed, I&#8217;ll work.
-Will you forgive me, mother?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Forgive you, Johnny!&#8217; she murmured, &#8216;it&#8217;s a
-easy thing to forgive a body when you love a body.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable,
-from the old woman&#8217;s white lips, and Kate&#8217;s heart
-sank like lead. The withered face had grown paler,
-and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
-blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and
-Philip Carey turned quickly towards her.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Is she going to die, Philip?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;She is very faint,&#8217; he replied, &#8216;She has been too
-much excited, but she may rally yet. Go and send
-me a nurse, and do not return yourself.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears
-falling fast from her eyes. She was no longer grieving
-over her own troubles, but for the hopeful, cheery,
-brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son
-again in such a manner, and at such a moment as
-this. She waited in the matron&#8217;s parlour until a
-message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was
-sleeping again, with her son watching and waiting
-beside her. Then she returned home with her father.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy&#8217;s the man,&#8217;
-shouted Dr. Layard to her, above the noise of the
-train; &#8216;but the thing cannot be brought home to him.
-The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>
-labouring under a delusion. She no more believes
-that her son was the man who shot at her than I believe
-that you did it. I question whether she would
-believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he
-must not do. I&#8217;ve told him so. I said, &#8220;Duffy, I feel
-pretty sure you are the villain that did it, and if she
-dies I&#8217;ll do my best to prove it. But never you tell
-your mother it was yourself; it would go far to break
-her heart.&#8221; And he said, &#8220;I&#8217;ll never speak a word
-about it, one way or the other, sir.&#8221; Oh! Duffy did it!&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Do you think she will die?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Carey will do his best for her,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
-&#8216;I never saw such a change in a young fellow as there
-is in Carey. He is as dull as a beetle; just when he
-has got all he has been striving for, too! I don&#8217;t understand
-it.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>Kate believed she understood it, but she kept
-silence. It was not likely he could feel happy and
-at ease in her presence or her father&#8217;s if he had a
-spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good
-deal of feeling. She had caught his eye once during
-the strange interview round Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s bed, and
-they had looked at one another with a sympathy
-which had seemed at the moment the most natural
-thing in the world. She had called him Philip, too!
-How her cheeks burned at the very recollection. She
-wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
-manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten
-herself, and it had been a happier moment than
-she had felt for these four weeks past. Perhaps utter
-forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning Kate was once more sitting
-alone before the fire in the breakfast-room, with nothing
-particular to do, until it was time to start for
-Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a
-large official-looking cover, with the words &#8216;Dead
-Letter Office&#8217; printed upon it, and addressed &#8216;Miss
-Kate Layard, Ilverton.&#8217; It was the first time in her
-life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
-packet. She opened it with some trepidation,
-and drew from it her own brief note to Philip Carey,
-written four weeks before. The envelope bore several
-postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
-after another&mdash;Liverpool, then Manchester, then London&mdash;but
-it was several minutes before she discovered
-how it had all happened. Her own handwriting lay
-before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
-she had directed her letter to &#8216;Dr. Carey, Everton
-Square, Liverpool.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead
-of Lentford she could never understand. It was
-true Philip had gone to Liverpool after leaving
-Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
-mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
-as miserable a time as herself. He must have come
-to the conclusion that she did not care for him, and
-that she had not even the grace to thank him for the
-love he had bestowed upon her in vain. What could
-he have thought of her? It must have been a pain
-to him. She would make it up to him in some
-way.</p>
-
-<p>Kate&#8217;s brain was in a whirl all the way to
-Lentford. She walked up the broad steps of the
-hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
-porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly
-at her; and the students, hurrying along the broad
-corridors, took off their hats to Dr. Layard&#8217;s pretty
-daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
-a good-sized room, with benches round and across
-it, upon which were seated rows of poor patients,
-waiting humbly for their turn to go in and see the
-doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an
-inch or two, and Kate saw Philip Carey&#8217;s face, grave
-and care-worn, listening to a poor woman who was
-just going away by another entrance. She laid her
-hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in,
-and passed on into the room instead. &#8216;Philip,&#8217; she
-said, her face flushing at his look of amazement, &#8216;I
-am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
-miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Wrote what?&#8217; he asked, clasping the hand with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>
-which she offered him the misdirected letter, and
-holding both closely.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I only wrote &#8220;Come,&#8221;&#8217; stammered Kate, the
-tears starting into her eyes, &#8216;and I thought&mdash;oh, I
-don&#8217;t know what I thought! I directed it to Liverpool
-instead of Lentford, and it&#8217;s been wandering
-about ever since. Do you understand?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Do you mean you will be my wife?&#8217; he asked.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; she answered.</p>
-
-<p>They had only three minutes to themselves.
-Three minutes was the time allotted for each case,
-and as it expired the door was opened again an inch
-or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next
-patient. Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and
-dismissed her with a glance which set her heart
-beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
-flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs.
-Duffy was lying as if she trod on air. The old
-woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her eyes
-calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red
-beginning to show itself upon her cheek. The
-good chance for her recovery was a still better one
-this morning.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s coming back again this morning,&#8217; she
-whispered in Kate&#8217;s ear; &#8216;they let him stay beside
-me all yesterday, and he&#8217;s coming back again to-day.
-It&#8217;s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
-like it. I hope they&#8217;ll never catch that poor raskill
-as shot me, I do. It &#8217;ud spoil my Christmas and
-Johnny&#8217;s if they did. Has it been a happy Christmas
-for you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Very happy,&#8217; answered Kate, with a bright smile,
-as the present joy blotted out the remembrance of the
-past sorrow.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s right, my dear!&#8217; murmured Mrs. Duffy,
-&#8216;I don&#8217;t know as ever I knew such a Christmas.&#8217;</p>
-
-<p>There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made
-his appearance at Dr. Layard&#8217;s that evening, and
-delighted him beyond measure by asking him for
-Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three
-years longer in undisturbed happiness, and in a
-degree of comfort to which she had been unaccustomed
-throughout her life. For her son, who had
-not prospered much in Australia, worked industriously
-and steadily to maintain her at home, and
-devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was
-not till after her death, when Kate Carey was standing
-beside her coffin looking down at the placid face and
-closed eyes of the old woman, that he told the story
-of his return home.</p>
-
-<p>&#8216;I&#8217;d worked my passage across, ma&#8217;am,&#8217; he said,
-the tears rolling down his cheeks, &#8216;and I&#8217;d landed in
-Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with as much as
-five pound in my pocket, all I&#8217;d saved in Australy;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
-and there were a lot set on me, and took me to a
-public, and I suppose I drank all my wits away. I
-reached Ilverton by the last train on Christmas Eve,
-but I didn&#8217;t know as mother were gone to live in
-the town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a
-bench at the railway station. I hadn&#8217;t a penny left,
-when I set out to seek mother; and I were wandering
-about very miserable, when I saw a decent old
-woman coming along all alone. I only thought I&#8217;d
-frighten a shilling out of her. I never meant no
-harm. The pistol were an old pistol I&#8217;d had in the
-bush; and I didn&#8217;t recollect it was loaded, and it
-went bursting off, all in an instant of time. That
-quite brought me to, and I were running away to find
-somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming.
-I seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I
-found out it were my own poor old mother, which I
-did face to face with her in the hospital, I felt as I
-should die. She never knew as it were me, never.
-She used to talk about him, and say, &#8220;I forgave him,
-Johnny, and I hope God has forgave him too, whoever
-he is.&#8221; I shall never see another woman like my
-poor old mother.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-<p class="center">
-LONDON: PRINTED BY<br />
-SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br />
-AND PARLIAMENT STREET</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="ph1"><span class="smcap">WORKS by HESBA STRETTON</span>,</p>
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</span></p>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/bennetts.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>I. CASSY.</b> Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
-crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching kind, and the narrative,
-while free and graceful, is really of the most compressed and masterly character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another treat, as real to
-grown-up people as to children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Herald.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p><b>II. THE KING&#8217;S SERVANTS.</b> With Eight Illustrations.
-Thirtieth Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<p class="center">
-Part I. Faithful in Little.<span class="gap">Part II. Unfaithful.</span><br />
-Part III. Faithful in Much.</p>
-
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly told, and the religious
-purpose constantly kept in view.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Watchman.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;An interesting story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church News.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a living power likely to
-carry it home to the hearts of all who read it.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Freeman.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p><b>III. LOST GIP.</b> Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations.
-Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>&#8216;Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p><b>IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.</b> Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo.
-2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<p>This little book is intended to present the result of close investigations
-made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous narrative,
-suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for those who have
-not the leisure or the books needed for threading together the fragmentary
-and scattered incidents recorded in the four Gospels.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>&#8216;A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the wonderful story with a
-forcible simplicity that will appeal to all readers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the Sunday-school, and is also
-suitable for a Sunday-school prize.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Review.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It is invaluable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Sunday-School Quarterly Journal.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="center"><b>A LIST OF</b></p>
-
-
-<p class="ph1">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S</p>
-
-<p class="center">BOOKS SUITABLE FOR</p>
-
-<p class="ph1">CHILDREN&#8217;S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> <i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
-comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History,
-Education, Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis
-on application.</i></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES</b>, for
-Home Reading and Cottage Meetings. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>.</p>
-
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Containing</span>:&mdash;</p>
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-<tr><td>&#8216;Little Meggie&#8217;s Home,&#8217; &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>     &#8216;Sermon in Baby&#8217;s Shoes,&#8217;</td></tr>
-<tr><td>&#8216;Aggie&#8217;s Christmas,&#8217;</td><td>    &#8216;Lina.&#8217;</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-
-
-<p>Small square, uniform with &#8216;Lost Gip,&#8217; &amp;c. Three Illustrations.
-Price 1<i>s</i>. 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>DADDIE&#8217;S PET.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Ellen Ross</span> (&#8216;Nelsie Brook&#8217;). A
-Sketch from Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with &#8216;Lost
-Gip.&#8217; With Six Illustrations. 1<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of writing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Christian World.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A very pretty tale.&#8217;&mdash;<i>John Bull.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A pretty little story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Scotsman.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;An exceedingly pretty little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>LOCKED OUT</b>: A Tale of the Strike. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Barlee</span>. With
-a Frontispiece. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial libraries,
-whether in country or in town.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Well written.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of<br />
-BOOKS for JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
-
-
-<p class="center">Works by the Author of &#8216;St. Olave&#8217;s,&#8217; &#8216;When I was a Little Girl,&#8217; &amp;c.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>I. AUNT MARY&#8217;S BRAN PIE.</b> Illustrated.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A bright story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Globe.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The stories are exceedingly good.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Capital stories.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of the season.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary
-World.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.</b> Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>BRAVE MEN&#8217;S FOOTSTEPS.</b> A Book of Example and
-Anecdote for Young People. By the Editor of &#8216;Men who have Risen.&#8217;
-With Four Illustrations by <span class="smcap">C. Doyle</span>. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<p>The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
-character, and their operation under different forms of effort. Success
-is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of those who, in choosing
-a gift for a boy, would consult his moral development as well as his temporary pleasure.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily
-Telegraph.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A readable and instructive volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved success.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p class="center"><b>Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.</b></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.</b>
-With Eleven Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who meddles always
-with a kindly disposition with other people&#8217;s affairs, and helps them to do right. There
-are many shrewd lessons to be picked up in this clever little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so well how to
-produce.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds Mercury.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Original, faithful, and humorous story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Manchester Examiner.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.</b> With Ten Illustrations
-by <span class="smcap">J. Mahoney</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our boys and girls.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A very attractive story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds
-Mercury.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much useful knowledge of
-natural history. The story is told in a pleasant, chatty style.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN</b>;
-with some Lessons in Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By <span class="smcap">Sara
-Coleridge</span>. A New Edition. Illustrated.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little folk through what has been
-called &#8220;the bitterness of learning.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Saturday Review.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book for children. It
-teaches us many a good moral, many a good common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which
-are, for the most part, very musical to the ear.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.</b> By
-Colonel <span class="smcap">E. P. De L&#8217;Hoste</span>. Translated from the French of Eug&egrave;ne
-Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest heroism; unpretentious
-religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a household brought up in the fear of the
-Lord.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious liberty of a real
-man.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little book will not prove
-attractive.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Quarterly.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p class="center"><b>Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.</b></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>
-<span class="indent"><b>I. ELSIE DINSMORE.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
-<span class="indent2"><b>II. ELSIE&#8217;S GIRLHOOD.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
-<b>III. ELSIE&#8217;S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.</b> Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is portrayed in three
-different volumes. By the help, however, of the illustrations, and by dips here and there,
-we can safely give a favourable account.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers. In the above three
-pretty volumes her story is complete, and it is one full of youthful experiences, winning
-a general interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>THE DESERTED SHIP.</b> A Real Story of the Atlantic. By
-<span class="smcap">Cupples Howe</span>, Master Mariner. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span>.
-Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and with scarcely
-more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with which the story deals, and will
-much interest boys who have a spice of romance in their composition.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh
-Courant.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended, yet stirring events, which
-please a boy, more than any other quality.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Daily Review.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jean Ingelow</span>. A
-Second Series of &#8216;Stories told to a Child.&#8217; With Fifteen Illustrations.
-Square 24mo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;We like all the contents of the &#8220;Little Wonder-Horn&#8221; very much.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;We recommend it with confidence.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of some of the best of
-our modern verse.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.</b>
-By <span class="smcap">George MacDonald</span>. With Nine Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Arthur
-Hughes</span>. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story through five times.
-Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept that verdict upon his little work as final.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>PLUCKY FELLOWS.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">Stephen J.
-MacKenna</span>. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;This is one of the very best &#8220;Books for Boys&#8221; which have been issued this year.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning
-Advertiser.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly, straightforward
-manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Society.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>LITTLE MINNIE&#8217;S TROUBLES</b>: an Every-day Chronicle.
-By <span class="smcap">N. R. D&#8217;Anvers</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">W. H. Hughes</span>. Fcp. 8vo.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE AFRICAN CRUISER.</b> A Midshipman&#8217;s Adventures on
-the West Coast. By <span class="smcap">S. W. Sadler</span>, R.N., Author of &#8216;Marshall
-Vavasour.&#8217; A Book for Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second
-Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will find few pleasanter
-gift-books this season than &#8220;The African Cruiser.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this, written in a brisk style by
-a thorough sailor, is crammed full of adventures.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.</b> Crown
-8vo. With Four Illustrations.</p>
-
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;Seeking his Fortune&mdash;Oluf and Stephanoff&mdash;What&#8217;s
-in a Name?&mdash;Contrast&mdash;Onesta.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise detailed manner which we
-are sure young people like.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound and generous moral....
-We can answer for it that this volume will find favour with those for whom it is
-written, and that the sisters will like it quite as well as the brothers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.</b>
-Illustrated with Nine Etchings.</p>
-</div>
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-<tr><td>Mermaid.</td><td>    Specklesides.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Little Hans.</td><td>      Black Sneid.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>Dimple.</td><td>      Little Curly.</td></tr>
-<tr><td>The Two Princes.</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING<br />
-BOOKS FOR JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN&#8217;S
-LAND.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo. With a
-Frontispiece.</p>
-
-
-<p>This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as to the
-leading incidents of the Bushranger&#8217;s career. The tale may therefore
-be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and this he does in a
-highly creditable manner. His delineations of life in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite,
-and his representations of character are very marked.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE TASMANIAN LILY.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo.
-With Frontispiece.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;An interesting and useful work.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full of those touches
-which give them a natural appearance.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p class="center"><b>Two Works by DAVID KER.</b></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.</b> A Tale of Central
-Asia. Crown 8vo. With Illustrations.</p>
-
-
-<p>In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero;
-genuine information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of
-a mere dry statistical report.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate the story, has
-a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of courage and ability, from a state of
-slavery to one of independence. Will prove attractive to boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Exciting boy&#8217;s story, well told and abounding in incidents.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;An attractive boy&#8217;s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes round an imaginary
-hero.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.</b>
-Crown 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
-
-
-<p class="right">[<i>Just out.</i></p>
-</div>
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL
-FIELD CLUB.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">G. C. Davies</span>.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>FANTASTIC STORIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard Leander</span>. Translated
-from the German by <span class="smcap">Paulina B. Granville</span>. With Eight full-page
-Illustrations by <span class="smcap">M. E. Fraser-Tytler</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal with all manner of
-subjects.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;&#8220;Fantastic&#8221; is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of these strange tales.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of Paris.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;&#8220;The Knight who grew Rusty&#8221; is a delightful story, but &#8220;The Queen who could
-not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could not play on the Jew&#8217;s harp,&#8221; will
-probably be the children&#8217;s favourite.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jacob De Liefde</span>.
-Crown 8vo. With Eleven Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span> and
-others.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A wholesome present for boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A really good book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A really excellent book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>HER TITLE OF HONOUR</b>: a Book for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Holme
-Lee</span>. New Edition. Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee&#8217;s, for they are well known, and
-all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds even our favourites, not perhaps as a
-story, for this is of the simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story is
-united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because, also, it is a careful and
-beautiful piece of writing, and is full of studies of refined and charming character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as valuable as it is rare.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.</b> By <span class="smcap">Stephen
-J. MacKenna</span>. Crown 8vo. With Six Illustrations.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military adventure.... Boys will
-find them sufficiently exciting reading.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of soldiering in
-various parts of the world.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Mr. MacKenna&#8217;s former work, &#8220;Plucky Fellows,&#8221; is already a general favourite, and
-those who read the stories of the Old Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of
-materials at hand for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them well.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD
-TO WOMANHOOD.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>. With a
-Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A good tale&mdash;good in composition, good in style, good in purpose.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good and important
-one.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.</b> From Russian, Servian, Polish,
-and Bohemian Sources. By <span class="smcap">John T. Naake</span>, of the British Museum.
-With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original national
-ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands besides children. Yet children
-will eagerly open the pages, and not willingly close them, of the pretty volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with eleven
-Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight Russian and thirteen Servian,
-in Mr. Naake&#8217;s modest but serviceable collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents
-are, as a general rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which deserves
-cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got up volume, we ought to
-mention that its contents fully come up to the promise held out in its preface.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Helen Zimmern</span>.
-With Six Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural, and pleasantly quaint,
-as befits stories intended for the young.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate, and which will remind
-its readers of many a legend, and many an imaginary virtue attached to the gems
-they are so fond of wearing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Post.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>THE BETTER SELF.</b> By <span class="smcap">J. Hain Friswell</span>. Essays for
-Home Life. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-<tr><td>Beginning at Home</td><td>   Pride in the Family</td><td>     Likes and Dislikes</td></tr>
-<tr><td>The Girls at Home</td><td>   Discontent and Grumbling &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>  On Keeping People Down</td></tr>
-<tr><td>The Wife&#8217;s Mother &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>   Domestic Economy</td><td>  On Falling Out Peace</td></tr>
-</table>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as sound and wholesome
-as it is noble and elevated.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without becoming a
-bore.&#8217;&mdash;<i>City Press.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>BY STILL WATERS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edward Garrett</span>. A Story for
-Quiet Hours. Crown 8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has pleased us so well
-as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed us.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to meet. His stories
-are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and there is about them a rare atmosphere of
-not unpleasing meditative melancholy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.</b> By
-<span class="smcap">Mary M. Howard</span>, Author of &#8216;Brampton Rectory.&#8217; Crown 8vo.
-6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;These tales possess considerable merit.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Court Journal.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A neat and chatty little volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard A.
-Proctor</span>, B.A., Author of &#8216;Saturn and its Systems,&#8217; &#8216;The Universe,&#8217;
-&#8216;The Expanse of Heaven,&#8217; &amp;c. To which are added, &#8216;Essays on
-Astrology&#8217; and &#8216;The Jewish Sabbath.&#8217; Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.</b> A Series of Essays on the
-Wonders of the Firmament. By <span class="smcap">Richard A. Proctor</span>, B.A.
-With a Frontispiece. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader&#8217;s mind up &#8220;through nature&#8217;s
-work to nature&#8217;s God.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Full of thought, readable, and popular.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>PHANTASMION.</b> A Fairy Romance. By <span class="smcap">Sara Coleridge</span>.
-With an Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord <span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>,
-of Ottery S. Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
-long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience and
-a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination, melody
-of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity of conception.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p>&#8216;The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a time in a veritable
-region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of unreality, and surrounded by supernatural
-beings.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice the length,
-closing the book with a feeling of regret that the repast was at an end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Vanity Fair.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.</b> By <span class="smcap">Harriett Parr</span>.
-Crown 8vo. 8<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
-young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
-the great struggle.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and if children are
-not interested in her book, many of their seniors will be.&#8217;&mdash;<i>British Quarterly Review.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="ph1">POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.</p>
-</div>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>LYRICS OF LOVE</b>, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected
-and arranged by <span class="smcap">W. Davenport Adams</span>, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth
-extra, gilt edges, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-<p>The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in these
-particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems. (2) That
-each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and (3) That it
-includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as of the earliest
-writers.</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.</b> By the Rev. Canon
-<span class="smcap">R. H. Baynes</span>, Editor of &#8216;Lyra Anglicana,&#8217; &amp;c. Second Edition.
-Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
-various members of Christ&#8217;s Church Militant here on earth.</p>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high standard of excellence.
-The pieces are short, mostly original, and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent
-spirit of devotion.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>POEMS.</b> By <span class="smcap">William Cullen Bryant</span>. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
-bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author.
-7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
-and they contain several of the Author&#8217;s Poems which have not appeared in
-any previous Collection.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained the fame and
-position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer than William Cullen Bryant.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>ENGLISH SONNETS.</b> Collected and Arranged by <span class="smcap">John Dennis</span>.
-Fcap. 8vo. Elegantly bound. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
-
-
-<p>This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the Elizabethan
-to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of poetry, and not only
-for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in order to pass away an
-idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words of Marlowe, &#8216;infinite
-riches in a little room.&#8217;</p>
-
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry will consult again and
-again with delight. The notes are very useful.... The volume is one for which English
-literature owes Mr. Dennis the heartiest thanks.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="ph1"><i>W. C. BENNETT&#8217;S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS.</i></p>
-</div>
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Library Edition.</span> Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-
-<p><b>BABY MAY</b>&mdash;HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People&#8217;s Edition,
-in Two Parts, paper covers, 1<i>s.</i> each.</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every mother
-ought to learn &#8220;Baby May&#8221; and &#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; off by heart.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
-much na&iuml;ve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Those readers who do not as yet know &#8220;Baby May&#8221; should make
-her acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will find
-her in good company.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
-his pages.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;&#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; is worthy to rank with &#8220;Baby May,&#8221; which, from
-its completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one of the
-most exquisite among Dr. Bennett&#8217;s productions.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
-language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Weekly Dispatch.</i></p>
-</div>
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p><b>SONGS FOR SAILORS.</b> Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; paper
-covers, 1<i>s.</i></p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p>&#8216;Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Very spirited.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Really admirable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Right well done.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Sure of a wide popularity.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Advertiser.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Songs that sailors most enjoy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
-
-<p>&#8216;We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
-Dibdin.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
-
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="transnote">
-<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER&#8217;S NOTES:</p>
-
-
-
-<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
-
-<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
-</div></div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***</div>
-<div style='text-align:left'>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
-be renamed.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG&#8482;
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br />
-<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br />
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span>
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-To protect the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
-or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.B. &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&#8220;the
-Foundation&#8221; or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg&#8482; work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work (any work
-on which the phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; appears, or with which the
-phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-</div>
-
-<blockquote>
-  <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-    other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-    are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
-    of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
-  </div>
-</blockquote>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221; associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg&#8482; License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg&#8482;.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; License.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work in a format
-other than &#8220;Plain Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg&#8482; website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original &#8220;Plain
-Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg&#8482; works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-provided that:
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'>
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &bull; You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
-        the use of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works calculated using the method
-        you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
-        to the owner of the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, but he has
-        agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
-        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
-        within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
-        legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
-        payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
-        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
-        Section 4, &#8220;Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
-        Literary Archive Foundation.&#8221;
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &bull; You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
-        you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
-        does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-        License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
-        copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
-        all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-        works.
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &bull; You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
-        any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
-        electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
-        receipt of the work.
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &bull; You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
-        distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works.
-    </div>
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain &#8220;Defects,&#8221; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &#8220;Right
-of Replacement or Refund&#8221; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &#8216;AS-IS&#8217;, WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg&#8482;&#8217;s
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg&#8482; collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg&#8482; and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation&#8217;s EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state&#8217;s laws.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation&#8217;s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation&#8217;s website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
-public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
-visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg&#8482;,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-</body>
-</html>
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      Two Christmas Stories, by Hesba Stretton&mdash;A Project Gutenberg eBook
+    </title>
+    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2 {
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .51em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .49em;
+}
+
+
+div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;}
+div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: 33.5%;
+    margin-right: 33.5%;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.tb   {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
+
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+
+
+
+.pagenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-weight: normal;
+    font-variant: normal;
+}
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.bbox     {
+            margin: auto;
+            width: 600px;
+            height: 400px;
+            padding: 10px;
+            border: 2px solid;  }
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.right    {text-align: right;}
+
+.indent {padding-left: 0.75em;}
+.indent2 {padding-left: 0.35em;}
+
+.gap {padding-left: 7em;}
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+
+.caption  {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;}
+
+.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;}
+.xlarge {font-size: 150%;}
+
+.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;}
+.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;}
+.floatright {margin-left: 25em;}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    page-break-inside: avoid;
+    max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+p.drop-cap {
+ text-indent: -0.2em;
+}
+
+p.drop-cap:first-letter
+{
+ float: left;
+ margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em;
+ font-size: 250%;
+ line-height:0.55em;
+ text-indent: 0em;
+}
+@media handheld
+{
+ p.drop-cap {
+   text-indent: 0em;
+ }
+ p.drop-cap:first-letter
+ {
+   float: none;
+   margin: 0;
+   font-size: 100%;
+ }
+}
+
+
+.poetry-container  {text-align: center;}
+.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
+.poetry .verse  {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;}
+
+.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    color: black;
+     font-size:smaller;
+     padding:1em;
+     margin-bottom:5em;
+     margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;
+     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65830 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<h1>TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</h1>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p class="center"><b>By the Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</b></p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with<br />
+Frontispiece.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Price Sixpence each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+
+<div class="verse">FRIENDS TILL DEATH.</div>
+<div class="verse">THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON. &nbsp; &nbsp;  1 vol.</div>
+<div class="verse">MICHEL LORIO&#8217;S CROSS.</div>
+<div class="verse">OLD TRANSOME.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> For a list of other Works by the same Author, see the<br />
+Catalogue at the end of this work.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="caption">&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 24.</i></span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<div class="titlepage">
+
+<p><span class="xxlarge">TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</span><br />
+<br />
+<i>SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK</i><br />
+<br />
+<i>A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
+A HAPPY NEW YEAR</i></p>
+
+
+<p>BY<br />
+<br />
+<span class="xlarge">HESBA STRETTON</span><br />
+<br />
+AUTHOR OF<br />
+&#8216;LOST GIP&#8217; &#8216;CASSY&#8217; &#8216;JESSICA&#8217;S FIRST PRAYER&#8217; ETC.</p>
+
+<p>WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
+
+<p><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON</i><br />
+1876</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center">(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image007.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IF any one had told Sam Franklin before he
+married that he would ever save money out of his
+wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn; they
+had never been more than enough when he had only
+himself to keep, and when there was a wife into the
+bargain, what chance would there be for him to have
+a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
+many weeks, he had made the discovery that
+the wages which had only been enough for one were
+rather more than enough for two. There were no
+dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long
+evenings spent in the public-houses, no laundresses&#8217;
+bills to meet. He had a great deal more comfort
+with a somewhat smaller outlay.</p>
+
+<p>When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over
+and above the sum he allowed his wife for housekeeping
+and rent, he hardly knew what to do with it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>
+His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did
+not care to leave it for the tavern. He and his wife
+were living on the first-floor of a house in a decent,
+quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans like himself,
+though the houses were from three to four stories high,
+and had been built for richer people. They had a
+sitting-room, with a bedroom behind it, and the use
+of a back kitchen for cooking and washing; so the
+place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann
+Franklin had notions of cleanliness and smartness,
+which made her take great pride in herself and all her
+belongings. The parlour, as she liked it to be called,
+was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
+had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise
+and smoke of a public-house taproom.</p>
+
+<p>What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown?
+It doubled itself into five shillings, and by-and-by
+a golden half-sovereign lay among the silver
+and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was
+a man of few words&mdash;a close man, his comrades
+called him&mdash;and silent as the grave concerning his
+own affairs. Had he told one of them when he was
+about to be married? Not his best friend amongst
+them! Had he mentioned it as a piece of news
+interesting to himself that he had a son born? Never!
+He despised men who could not keep a still tongue in
+their heads, but must prate about all they did or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
+thought. Even with his wife he was sparing of words,
+though he liked her to tell him everything she did,
+and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was
+only a woman; a man should have more control over
+his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his
+savings, though they seemed to grow like seed sown
+in good ground. Every week he gave his wife the
+sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the
+best of it cheerfully, letting him know how every
+penny was spent, and sometimes wondering to him
+how his comrades&#8217; wives managed to be so much
+smarter than she was. At first he had thoughts of
+buying her a new bonnet or shawl, but he scarcely
+liked to own that he had been keeping back the
+money from her. This difficulty became greater as
+the sum grew larger; and, besides that, the possession
+of it began to get a hold upon him. It gave to him
+a secret consciousness of wealth among his fellow-workmen,
+which was very pleasant for a time; but
+by-and-by this feeling passed away, and a strange,
+unaccountable dread of being poor took possession of
+him. He began to talk about bad times, and the
+high prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses
+of a family, though his own consisted of his
+cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But this
+change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
+himself nor his wife had any idea what was going on.
+He spent his evenings at home, and went nearly every
+Sunday to the place of worship which Ann and
+Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud
+of her tall, fine-looking husband, whose clothes she
+kept in such good order that he looked, in her eyes
+at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
+say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann
+was too true a wife to let it be said in her presence.
+He was industrious and steady, and kind to her and
+the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
+both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the
+bad times, not her husband&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p>When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and
+had two Bank of England notes to take care of, his
+difficulty and perplexity had very much increased.
+There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had
+no faith in the old savings-banks, for he could remember
+how his poor old mother had lost every penny of
+her painful savings by the breaking of the one she
+had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about
+it, after keeping such a secret so long. The money became
+a trouble to him, though perhaps it was his
+most cherished possession. Certainly he thought of it
+oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
+it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he
+took it to the work-yard with him he was fearful of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
+losing it, whilst if he left it at home he was quite as
+much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it would
+alter the face of things if she discovered that he was
+the owner of all that money, and had never told her!</p>
+
+<p>At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty
+pounds, a bright idea struck him one day. He stayed
+at home the next Sunday evening, and having found
+his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a
+good strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part
+of one of the seams large enough to take in a folded
+bank-note, and spread them as high as he could reach
+with his finger up and down the breast of it. He
+could not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been
+sewn before, but he was obliged to trust to Ann not
+noticing it, for it was a worn-out waistcoat and past
+her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
+first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat
+buttoned across it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Good gracious, Sam!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;whatever made
+you put on that old thing?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s warmer than any I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; he answered,
+putting his hand up against the breast of it where the
+bank-notes lay safe and hidden.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s so old-fashioned,&#8217; she said, discontentedly;
+&#8216;but it doesn&#8217;t matter much if you won&#8217;t go out of
+doors in it. Men have no notion of things.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>&#8216;What was the text, Ann?&#8217; he inquired, simply
+to turn away her attention from the old waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh! it hadn&#8217;t anything to do with us,&#8217; she replied,
+more cheerfully; &#8216;it was, &#8216;The love of money is the
+root of all evil.&#8217; Nothing for us in that, you know,
+though the preacher did say we might love it as much
+from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have
+it, nor crave it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any
+further remark. He told his wife he should always
+put on his old waistcoat when he came in from his
+work; and he continued to do so regularly for some
+time, then occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat
+simply hung on a nail behind the bedroom door,
+only being taken down once a week by Ann, to have the
+dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had
+another note to add to those he had already secured;
+and he became so skilled in opening and sewing the
+seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing any
+difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy
+Sunday, feeling a deep satisfaction in his admirable
+scheme for concealing and taking care of his savings.</p>
+
+<p>Month after month, and year after year, the old
+waistcoat kept his secret faithfully. His eyes rested
+upon it first thing in the morning and last thing at
+night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
+there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>
+grudging his wife her bits of blue and pink ribbon,
+with which she made herself smart, and altogether
+refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
+sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had
+paid hitherto at a dame&#8217;s-school. He was longing to
+make up fifty pounds; he had already forty-five in
+his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds
+sounded than forty-five!</p>
+
+<p>He had between three and four pounds towards
+this very desirable end, when one night, upon his return
+from work, he went as usual into the back room
+to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards
+the familiar object behind the door. But it was
+not there! The place was bare, and the nail empty.
+The mere sight of an empty nail in that place filled
+him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away
+in some drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was
+broken and tremulous.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Where have you put my old waistcoat?&#8217; he asked.
+He could hear her pouring the boiling water over the
+tea in the next room, and she did not answer before
+clicking down the lid of the teapot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,&#8217; she answered,
+in a cheerful voice, &#8216;so I made a right good
+bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an old-clothesman.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
+if he had received a heavy blow, and fell on the floor.
+He did not quite lose his senses, for he felt Ann
+trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
+him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and
+sit down on the foot of the bed, but still he found
+himself giddy and stunned.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Where is it?&#8217; he cried, bursting into tears and
+sobs, like a child; &#8216;where is it?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The old waistcoat?&#8217; she asked, thinking he was
+gone out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes!&#8217; he said. &#8216;There was nine five-pound notes
+in it; forty-five pounds in Bank of England notes!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by
+his fall, and he was rambling; but as he kept on
+moaning over his loss, and confessing how he had
+concealed the notes from her, she began to believe
+him, and all the sooner when he pulled out the three
+sovereigns he had saved towards the tenth note and
+flung them on the floor in angry despair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And I don&#8217;t know the man from Adam!&#8217; cried
+Ann. &#8216;I never saw him before; and he&#8217;ll take very
+good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam! how
+could you? how could you keep it a secret all these
+years, when I never bought as much as a yard of
+ribbon or a collar on the sly? I can&#8217;t forgive it, or
+forget it either.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She felt it very hard that Sam should not have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
+trusted her. The loss of the money was hard, and
+she could not help thinking what a large sum it was,
+and what it might have done for Johnny. But the
+loss of faith in her husband was ten times worse.
+How could she ever believe in him again? or how
+could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
+trusted her?</p>
+
+<p>It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed
+his money so bitterly that Ann began to fancy he
+would rather have lost her or his child. She sat silent
+and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost
+raving with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him
+the next morning before he set off to the yard,
+though she knew he had lain awake all night like
+herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast.
+It was a cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling
+the air. Sam was wet through before he reached his
+work, and there was no chance of drying his clothes.
+He was wet through when he came home, but there
+were no dry, warm things laid out for him. He
+might wait upon himself, thought Ann; it would be
+well for him to see the difference between a good wife
+and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a
+change of clothing for himself, and he sat shivering
+on the hearth all night, in spite of the warm, cheerful
+blaze of the bright fire.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
+was compelled to knock off work. Severe rheumatic
+fever had set in, and the doctor said he must not
+expect to get back to the yard for three months or
+more. Perhaps it was the best thing that could have
+befallen him, for it brought back all the old warm
+love for him to his wife&#8217;s heart, which had been
+grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of
+trust in her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying
+a word to blame him now he could not get out of her
+way, as many wives would have done. Before his
+illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her
+own best clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere
+necessaries of life. Never had Sam Franklin thought
+his wife would have to go day after day to the pawn-shop;
+but she did it so cheerfully that half of the
+sting of it was taken away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Nancy,&#8217; he said, one morning, &#8216;all night long
+I&#8217;ve had a text ringing in my head, &#8216;You cannot
+serve God and mammon,&#8217; &#8216;You cannot serve God and
+mammon!&#8217; Why, I used to think I was doing God
+a service when I put on my Sunday clothes and went
+to church of a Sunday morning with you. As if
+He&#8217;d think that were serving Him! And then all the
+week I was worshipping that old waistcoat of mine
+hanging behind the door, as much as any poor
+heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I
+begin to think it was God who put it in your heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
+to sell it to the old-clothesman. But how can I
+serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can&#8217;t do anything
+save lie in this bed and be a burden to you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband,
+whispering, &#8216;I don&#8217;t mind a bit about you
+being a burden, as you call it;&#8217; and after that she
+opened a Bible and read these words: &#8216;Then said
+they unto him, What shall we do, that we may work
+the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto
+them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him
+whom he hath sent.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay! I see it,&#8217; he said, after a long pause, &#8216;that&#8217;s
+a work I can begin better here, perhaps, than in the
+yard at my work. I can work for God that way,
+lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And
+now I come to think of it, Jesus Christ never served
+mammon anyway, and if I believe in Him I shall try
+to be like Him. It&#8217;s no use praying to God on Sundays
+and doing contrary all the week, wailing after
+money and such like.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; answered his wife, &#8216;I&#8217;ve not been believing
+in him as I ought, for I&#8217;ve been fretting after that old
+waistcoat ever so, thinking how useful the money
+would be now; but if you&#8217;ll help me I&#8217;ll help you,
+and we&#8217;ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we
+could see him coming into the room and talking
+to us.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>&#8216;But that would be seeing, not believing.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;So it would,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;and he said himself,
+&#8220;Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.&#8221;
+We must trust in Him without seeing Him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all
+their possessions were disappearing one after another.
+Sam was a long while in fully recovering his strength;
+and when he was fit to go back to the yard they were
+pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so
+happy in former days. Their simple faith in the
+Saviour gave them a peace different from anything
+they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had now no
+secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind,
+grew frank and open with his wife. They pinched
+and denied themselves to get out of debt; and when
+the next winter came they were again in the comfortable
+circumstances which had been theirs when Ann
+sold the valuable old waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day,
+&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s been putting threepence a week into
+the school club. He&#8217;s got as much as nine shillings
+in, and he&#8217;s to have twopence a shilling added to it
+if we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the
+nine shillings out if we like. Come home in time to
+go with us to the school to-night.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay!&#8217; said Sam, heartily, &#8216;I&#8217;ll go with Johnny
+to get his little fortune.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>It was quite dark in the evening when the three
+started off for the school where the weekly pence
+were paid in. But as they locked their parlour-door
+and turned into the street, they saw a girl about
+Johnny&#8217;s age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her
+head, standing on the outer door-sill, shivering and
+crying, as she looked at the dismal night, with flakes
+of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her
+well; she was the little girl belonging to the tenant
+of the attic two floors above them. Ann had often
+given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny to take
+to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her
+into their parlour, because she was too dirty and
+ragged. Now, as the child stood crying and shivering
+on the door-step, her heart smote her for her
+want of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her
+gently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8217; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Father says I must go and beg,&#8217; she answered,
+crying more bitterly, &#8216;and I&#8217;m frightened, and it&#8217;s so
+bitter cold. But we must pay our rent, he says, or
+be turned out, and he doesn&#8217;t know where to go to,
+and is very ill, coughin&#8217; ever so. We owe for three
+weeks now, that&#8217;s nine shillings, and I don&#8217;t know
+where I&#8217;m to beg for nine shillings.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s all the coppers I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; said Sam
+putting three or four pence in her hand, and hurrying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>
+on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the girl pattered after
+them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
+did not speak again till they reached the school, but
+once or twice she looked back and saw the little
+ragged figure following them. There was no one in
+the school room except themselves and the gentleman
+who was ready to receive their payment and give
+them the ticket for buying clothes to the value of
+ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could write
+out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin,
+care-worn little face peering in through the window.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam,&#8217; she cried, &#8216;we don&#8217;t want it so badly
+after all, and I think if it belonged to Him, Jesus
+Christ, he would give it to the poor man up in the
+attic to pay his rent with. Don&#8217;t you think he
+would?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But it&#8217;s Johnny&#8217;s little fortune,&#8217; said Sam, &#8216;and we
+should lose one and sixpence if we took it out for that.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Johnny &#8217;ud be glad to give it to poor little
+Bell?&#8217; asked Ann, with her hand on the boy&#8217;s
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, mother, for little Bell,&#8217; he said readily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s clothes are warm, if they&#8217;re shabby,&#8217;
+pursued Ann, &#8216;and there&#8217;s that poor little creature in
+rags, and barefoot. My heart aches for her, Sam.
+If it were our boy, and they&#8217;d nine shillings they
+didn&#8217;t want badly, what should we like them to do?&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>&#8216;Well, Ann, I give up,&#8217; he said; &#8216;after all, it&#8217;s your
+savings, not mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That
+man in the attic was very probably a drunken vagabond,
+and deserved to be turned out for not paying
+his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a
+year, and had been quiet enough, meddling with nobody,
+and not putting himself in anybody&#8217;s way.
+Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and
+then he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping
+figure, with a shabby old coat buttoned up to the throat,
+as if the man had no shirt to wear. Anyhow it was
+Ann&#8217;s business, and if any wife deserved to have her
+own way in a thing like this, it was his wife.</p>
+
+<p>Ann picked up the money, which was counted out
+to her, with a pleasant smile upon her face. It was
+snowing very fast when they opened the school-room
+door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
+pressed against the window and one foot drawn up
+out of the snow to keep it warmer. Ann called to her,
+and she ran quickly towards them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I prayed to God for the money this morning,&#8217; she
+said, looking wistfully up into Ann&#8217;s smiling face, &#8216;but
+He couldn&#8217;t have heard me, for He never sent it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s going to send it now,&#8217; answered Ann.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will an angel come with it?&#8217; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay!&#8217; answered Sam, stooping down and lifting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
+the child in his arms, for he was quite strong again,
+and she was too thin and puny to be much weight.
+He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and
+if Ann was going to do them a good turn, why should
+he not do another?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An angel with shining, white clothes on, and
+wings?&#8217; said little Bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No; she&#8217;s wearing an old bonnet and a faded
+shawl,&#8217; answered Sam, &#8216;and her wings aren&#8217;t grown
+yet, I&#8217;m glad to say.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;For shame, Sam!&#8217; cried his wife; but she was
+glad to hear from his voice that he was agreeing
+heartily with her self-denial. It was not far back to
+their home, but instead of turning into their own
+pleasant room they all marched up two flights of
+stairs to the attic.</p>
+
+<p>It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted
+by a skylight, of which two or three of the panes were
+broken, and a few stray snowflakes were floating in,
+and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
+old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in
+it; and in one corner lay a hard mattress, on which
+they could see in the dim light the figure of a man,
+barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted up
+his head to speak to them a racking cough choked
+him, and it was a minute or two before he could utter
+a word.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>&#8216;We&#8217;ve been your neighbours a long while,&#8217; said
+Ann, gently, &#8216;and I&#8217;m ashamed I never came to see
+you before. We&#8217;ve brought little Bell home, for it&#8217;s
+a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up
+person, scarcely.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But the landlord says he&#8217;ll turn us out to-morrow,&#8217;
+gasped the sick man.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No! no!&#8217; answered Ann; &#8216;that&#8217;s all right.
+We&#8217;ve got the money ready for him, and now we&#8217;ll
+make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
+and bring me a light, that&#8217;s a good fellow.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m not going to live long,&#8217; said the stranger, &#8216;and
+I&#8217;m afraid of being turned out, but I can never pay
+you back again. There&#8217;s no more work in me, and
+my money&#8217;s done; I can&#8217;t pay you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Never mind,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;we&#8217;re only doing as
+we&#8217;d be done by, so don&#8217;t you worry about it. Here&#8217;s
+Sam coming with a candle; and now I&#8217;ll put your
+bed straight.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>But when the light was brought in, and Ann
+looked down at the poor covering on the mattress,
+she uttered a little scream of amazement, and sank
+down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam
+himself stood as still as a stone, staring, as she did,
+at the clothes which lay across the bed. There was
+his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
+which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
+possible that the nine five-pound notes were still safely
+hidden in the lining?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine,&#8217; he said, as soon
+as he could speak; &#8216;I never thought to see it again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I bought it soon after I came here,&#8217; answered the
+attic tenant; &#8216;an old-clothesman offered it for a
+shilling. It&#8217;s been a good warm waistcoat; but I&#8217;ve
+worn it for the last time.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll give you a couple of blankets for it,&#8217; said Sam,
+eagerly. &#8216;My wife sold it without asking me, and it
+was my wedding waistcoat, you see. I didn&#8217;t want to
+part with it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,&#8217; he
+answered; &#8216;you&#8217;ve done enough for me already.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No,&#8217; said Ann, &#8216;I&#8217;ll bring the blankets.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She was trembling with excitement, but she would
+not leave the poor man until she had stopped up the
+broken panes, made the bed comfortable, and wrapped
+him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went
+down to their own room, and found Sam waiting for
+her before opening the seam in the lining of the
+waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed to
+unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of
+paper. Yes; they were all there, the nine five-pound
+notes he had never expected to touch again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; she cried, with tears in her eyes, &#8216;do
+you think you will love them again?&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at
+the notes, with a strange expression of fear upon his
+face. He compared the peace and happiness of the
+last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
+been to him. He thought of how he had begun to
+learn to think of God when he awoke in the morning,
+and when he was falling asleep at night. If he kept
+the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be
+right to throw away what God might intend them to
+keep as a provision against some time of need? Perhaps
+God saw the time was come when he might be
+trusted with money again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ann,&#8217; he said, &#8216;If I thought these notes would
+tempt me to serve mammon again, I&#8217;d throw them all
+on to the fire yonder. You take charge of them, my
+lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank,
+that was opened a few months ago. Thank God I
+lost them, and thank God I&#8217;ve found them again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his
+wife nursed and tended the dying man in the attic as
+tenderly as if he had been their brother, teaching him
+what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick
+bed he might work the works of God, by believing on
+Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent. When he died,
+blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
+took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much
+upon her as the money laid by in the savings-bank.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>
+But she grew up like a daughter to them; and not
+long ago she became their daughter by marrying
+Johnny Franklin. The wedding took place a day or
+two before Christmas, the anniversary of the day
+when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune for
+little Bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; said his wife, as she thought of it,
+&#8216;how would it have been if we&#8217;d kept the nine shillings
+to buy clothes for Johnny?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We should have kept the nine shillings and lost
+the forty-five pounds,&#8217; answered Sam. &#8216;It&#8217;s true, &#8220;He
+that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord;
+and that which he hath given will he pay him
+again.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, but it&#8217;s more than that,&#8217; said Ann; &#8216;we&#8217;d a
+chance of doing something like Jesus Christ would
+have done in our place, and we did it. That was the
+best of all.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image028.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="caption">She saw the stranger produce a pistol.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 46.</i></span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
+A HAPPY NEW YEAR.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image029.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IF you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton
+who was the prettiest and best girl in the town,
+they would, one and all, have answered promptly, &#8216;Dr.
+Layard&#8217;s daughter.&#8217; There was scarcely a poor man
+or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+surgery, where he gave advice gratis to all who could
+not really afford to pay for it. And there was scarcely
+one who did not know the look of Dr. Layard&#8217;s bright,
+comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
+tender smile on Kate Layard&#8217;s face, as she listened
+pityingly to their sad stories, and sent them away
+home with happier hearts and lighter spirits.</p>
+
+<p>If it had not been for her poor people, as she
+called them, Kate Layard&#8217;s life would have been
+utterly dull and idle. She had no household duties<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
+to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
+of all such matters whilst she was still a little
+girl, would not brook any interference with her rule;
+and preferred to have Kate sitting in the drawing-room,
+idly busy over fancy work, or practising music
+to which no one listened, and painting water-colour
+sketches, at which no one looked. There were three
+boys younger than herself, but they were all away,
+either at school or college; and the long days passed
+by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really
+worth the doing. But for her father&#8217;s poor patients,
+and he had a good many of them, she would have felt
+her life to be quite lost.</p>
+
+<p>It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November,
+with a thick yellow fog pressing close against the
+windows, which prevented her from going out, that
+she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
+Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements
+for a thorough cleaning down before Christmas;
+but she steadily refused Kate&#8217;s offers of help. Secretly
+Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding
+out that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper
+as herself; and she shrank from the idea of
+going into some little lonely house of her own, where
+she could have no more than one little maid to order
+about, and no scope at all for her own powers. She
+did not think of Kate having no scope for hers. If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
+she had, it is quite possible that she would have laid
+down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave
+Kate her proper post.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I wish, something would happen to me!&#8217; sighed
+Kate, on that dull November morning. At the very
+moment a servant brought in a letter, just delivered
+by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
+handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a
+vision of her father&#8217;s surgery flashed across her mind,
+with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking young man in
+her father&#8217;s place, giving advice and prescription, and
+good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It
+was Philip Carey, her father&#8217;s assistant, who had left
+them some months ago. It seemed to Kate that she
+had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the
+letter was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A
+bright colour flushed up in Kate&#8217;s face. If there had
+been any one in the room, she would have carried it
+away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet
+know a single word in it. But she was quite alone,
+and no one could see the colour in her cheeks, or the
+ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and made the
+lines look dim.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I used to fancy sometimes,&#8217; said Philip Carey,
+&#8216;that I might win your love; but I never dared to be
+sure of it. I was too poor then, and my future was
+too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
+But now I am appointed the assistant physician at
+Lentford Hospital, I think your father would be
+satisfied with my prospects. I do not write to him
+but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can
+trust your whole happiness to me, write but the one
+word &#8220;Come,&#8221; and I will come over immediately after
+my official appointment on the 30th, and speak to Dr.
+Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand
+your silence.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands,
+gazing blissfully into the fire. All the world was
+changed, quite suddenly. The day was no longer dull
+and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true.
+Philip Carey was the very man to be a physician in the
+Lentford Hospital; he was so gentle and considerate
+with the poor, and so skilful as well. She recollected
+how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned
+after him when he went away; and what a pang it
+had often been to her, a pang yet a pleasure, to hear
+his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good she
+must be to make herself good enough for him! She
+must be the best doctor&#8217;s wife in all Lentford.</p>
+
+<p>With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word
+&#8216;Come&#8217; as Philip had suggested; and then it occurred
+to her that she might catch the morning post, and he
+would receive her answer before night. She directed
+the envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
+across the square; dropping it into the letter-box
+with her own hands, and looking after it, as one does
+sometimes when the letter is a very important one.</p>
+
+<p>Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt
+Brooks was in a rather testy temper, and it was not
+easy to begin such a confidential disclosure to her. Dr.
+Layard was out all day, and only came in late at night,
+worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the
+secret being a secret. Everybody would know quite
+soon enough; for her letter had reached her on the
+28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th, for
+Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride
+to Ilverton as soon as his official appointment was
+confirmed.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came.
+Towards the close of the day Kate grew more
+agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might come in
+at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate
+was fully prepared to see him arrive then. But he
+did not appear; and the dinner passed very nearly in
+silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr. Layard
+was tired with his day&#8217;s work.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you know, Kate,&#8217; he said suddenly, &#8216;young
+Carey is appointed assistant physician at Lentford
+Hospital? It&#8217;s a splendid opening for so young a man.
+But he&#8217;s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
+content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
+Katie, Katie, you should have set your cap at him
+when he was here; you&#8217;ll never have such a chance
+again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile
+played about her lips, ready to break into a happy
+laugh. If Philip would but come in now!</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Don&#8217;t put such notions into Kate&#8217;s head,&#8217; said
+Aunt Brooks, precisely; &#8216;no well behaved young lady
+would think of setting her cap at any one.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour
+after another passed by, and still he did not come.
+She went to the window, and opened it impatiently.
+She began to wonder if he meant to come in by
+the last train, and stay all night. But what would
+Aunt Brooks say? And what a strange hour
+it would be to begin to talk to her father about
+such a subject! She fancied it would take a very
+long time to introduce it, and afterwards to discuss
+it. But at half-past eleven Kate was compelled
+to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the
+fever of her new happiness having calmed a little,
+she slept profoundly, and dreamed of no trouble.</p>
+
+<p>But again there followed a morning and evening
+of expectation, dogged hour after hour by a strengthening
+disappointment. Kate sat moping over the fire, as
+Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip&#8217;s
+absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>
+carefully smoothed out again, and she read it till she
+knew every word by heart. But the pride and gladness
+died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of hope
+deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out
+of her life, and left her in deeper darkness than before.
+She waited and trusted till she could wait and trust
+no longer; and then she gave herself up to the full
+sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one to notice the change except
+her father, who was too busy to bestow more than
+a passing thought or two to her melancholy face and
+fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah&#8217;s gourd,
+had sprung up in a night and perished in a night; and
+like him she was ready to exclaim, &#8216;It is better for me
+to die than to live.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered
+at all from her overwhelming sense of wretchedness
+and mortification. She was a pitiful and tender-hearted
+girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and
+she began to feel as if it was necessary for her own
+relief to make this miserable Christmas a time of
+pleasure and festivity to some of her poorer neighbours.
+If she could not see happiness with her own
+eyes, she would like to look at it through other
+people&#8217;s. It was impossible to remove the heaviness
+of her heart, but she might try to lighten others&#8217;. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
+one evening when she and her father were alone together,
+she approached the subject cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Father,&#8217; she said, &#8216;I want to make somebody in
+the world happier.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful.
+The burden that was oppressing her had made her
+feel that other people had heavy burdens to bear.
+She was learning that, in order to bear her own well,
+it was necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard
+was distressed by the mournfulness of his daughter&#8217;s
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Make somebody happier!&#8217; he repeated; &#8216;well, it
+is easy enough to do that.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;How?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Help them,&#8217; answered Dr. Layard; &#8216;a little
+help is worth a deal of pity. Helping people is
+a good step towards making them and yourself
+happy.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That is what I want to do,&#8217; said Kate, eagerly.
+&#8216;I want you to manage so that I can have some of
+your poor patients to tea here, in the large kitchen,
+on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit
+happier, I think. I don&#8217;t know that it would do
+much good, but they would enjoy it, wouldn&#8217;t they,
+father?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It would do them good, Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
+&#8216;making people happy sometimes goes before making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
+them good. In the hospital at times we make
+our patients as happy as they can be before the
+sharp operation; sometimes the sharp operation has
+to come first. We&#8217;ll try the merry Christmas for
+them this year, and then you must do what you can
+for them afterwards.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very
+gracious assent to Dr. Layard&#8217;s proposal, on condition
+that Kate took all the trouble of preparing for the
+guests, and entertaining them when they came. It
+made her busy enough for two or three days, and she
+tried to throw all her sad heart into it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, &#8216;we
+have forgotten one of our old favourites, who has
+not been here for months. You recollect old Mrs.
+Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins
+and tapes? Of all my poor patients, she ought to be
+present at your <i>soir&eacute;e</i>.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party
+Kate&#8217;s <i>soir&eacute;e</i>, and had taken an unusual interest
+in it. She was feeling more sorrowful than ever, this
+Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly
+gay. She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she
+found it difficult to get up a smile when her father
+spoke of the <i>soir&eacute;e</i>. How different it would have been
+if Philip Carey had been true to her!</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?&#8217; she asked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
+willing to escape from her sad thoughts for a little
+time.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Easily,&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;she lives in Wright&#8217;s
+Court, out of New Street, the last house but two on
+your left hand, I think. Anybody would tell you
+where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was a dark night when Kate started out, without
+Bob, for she was not frightened; she was too miserable
+to be frightened. The passing relief she had
+felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas
+tea-party was spent, and the universal merriment only
+served to deepen her own loneliness and disappointment.
+The streets were full and noisy, but not disorderly.
+The church bells were ringing in anticipation
+of the coming day, and a general holiday tone was
+diffused through the crowd, though business was going
+on briskly. Groups of little children were gathering
+round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
+Christmas presents for themselves and each other from
+the magnificent display within, and laughing with
+pathetic mirth at their own daring dreams. Kate
+caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at
+her own vanished dream.</p>
+
+<p>Wright&#8217;s Court was not a good specimen of street
+architecture and paving. The houses were as low as
+they could be to boast of two stories, and the pavement
+was eccentric, making it necessary to take each
+step with great caution. An open gutter ran down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
+the middle, and through the passage which formed the
+entrance; a passage four feet wide and twenty feet
+long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street, which
+shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her
+shadow bewilderingly before her. The court itself had
+no light but that which came through the uncurtained
+windows of the dwellings on each side, through which
+she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
+before she reached Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s door, where she stood
+a minute or two in the dark, looking through the small
+panes of the casement close beside it.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough
+for the furniture it contained. There was an old box
+under the window, and one shelf against the wall,
+holding all Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s china and plate. The only
+chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs,
+were drawn up to the fireplace, in which a few coals
+were burning. Two old tin candlesticks and a flat-iron
+adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw, with
+a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared
+to decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had
+been stuck into each candlestick, as well as into every
+other pane of the little window. Mrs. Duffy herself
+was seated in the chair, apparently amusing herself
+with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was
+a black teapot and a cracked cup and saucer on the
+table, but there was no food upon it, and when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>
+held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
+drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and
+looked placidly into the embers, shaking her head a
+little from time to time, but gently, as if more in remembrance
+of the past than in reproach of the present.
+She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no
+teeth, and her cheeks formed a little ball, like a withered
+rosy apple, between her hollow eyes and sunken
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The Lord love you, my dear,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
+when Kate went in, and delivered her message, &#8216;and
+the good doctor, too. It isn&#8217;t everybody as has such
+friends as me&mdash;on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body
+feels so lonesome wi&#8217;out friends. I don&#8217;t mind so
+much on working days, my dear, but one wants friends
+of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi&#8217;out
+friends; but one can&#8217;t love wi&#8217;out friends.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, indeed!&#8217; said Kate, with a profound sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And I&#8217;ve got such good friends!&#8217; continued Mrs.
+Duffy, triumphantly; &#8216;there&#8217;s one as gave me sixpence,
+and another threepence, and another twopence, only
+this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I&#8217;ve
+bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you
+know. You&#8217;d maybe like to see my Christmas joint
+like other folks, shouldn&#8217;t you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I should very much,&#8217; answered Kate.</p>
+
+<p>The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
+possession, for it had been laid carefully between a
+plate and a basin, and these were well tied up in a
+ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
+cat. Kate&#8217;s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her
+eyelids smarted a little as if with coming tears, when
+she saw it. It was a morsel of coarse beef, which would
+not have covered the old woman&#8217;s hand, but which she
+regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That cost sevenpence,&#8217; she said, &#8216;and I bought two
+pennyworth of greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with
+it&mdash;me and a friend of mine, as is coming to dine with
+me. It&#8217;s a very poor lame girl as lives down the court;
+very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to
+eat my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant
+to me. The neighbour next door has promised to
+lend me a chair; we&#8217;re all so friendly one with another.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Then if you have a visitor you must bring her
+with you to tea,&#8217; said Kate, &#8216;and any children you
+have. Haven&#8217;t you got any sons or daughters?
+You&#8217;d enjoy yourself more with them there.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bless your kind heart all the same,&#8217; answered
+Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful face overcast for a moment;
+&#8216;I never had more than one bonny boy, and he went
+off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My
+Johnny he was. Sometimes I think as I shall never
+see him again. I was thinking of him when your
+knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
+and I was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt
+whether Johnny &#8217;ud know his poor old mother again if
+he did come back.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;How long is it since you heard from him?&#8217;
+enquired Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I never heard from him at all,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
+in a matter-of-course tone; &#8216;he couldn&#8217;t write, and I
+couldn&#8217;t write. But he went to Australy, and he is in
+Australy now, if he hasn&#8217;t tumbled off. I can&#8217;t help
+thinking at times he must ha&#8217; tumbled off, though the
+flies never do tumble off the ceiling. I&#8217;ve watched
+&#8217;em for hours and hours together, thinking of my
+Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They have
+to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like
+them flies; but my Johnny wasn&#8217;t brought up to it,
+and I&#8217;m afeard for him at times.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, no, he couldn&#8217;t tumble off,&#8217; said Kate, laughing
+a little; &#8216;but are you sure you would know him yourself,
+Mrs. Duffy, after thirty years?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Can a mother forget her own boy?&#8217; asked the
+old woman; &#8216;ay, ay; I should know my Johnny
+among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I&#8217;ll be glad
+to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many
+thanks to you for asking her. I&#8217;ve got to go out into the
+country to sing a carril or two at a farm-house, where
+they&#8217;re always very good to me; but that&#8217;ll be afore
+dinner; and we&#8217;ll come punctual to your house at five<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
+o&#8217;clock, me and my friend; and a merry Christmas
+and a happy New Year to every one of us, and you
+above all, my dear.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New
+Year it will be for me,&#8217; thought Kate; but she did
+not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting her
+down the court with her only candle, which guttered
+and wasted terribly in the night wind; and the last
+glance she had of the kindly, withered old face was
+lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of the
+dark passage.</p>
+
+<p>Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas
+sun was ready to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused
+up to the fact that if she was to sing a &#8216;carril&#8217; a mile
+and a half away in the country, it was time to set out.
+Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin,
+scanty blanket she had been shivering under all night,
+were more attractive to her at seventy years of age
+than the long, lonely walk, through lanes deep down
+between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with
+mingled mud and ice. But she was of a brave and
+grateful heart, and after a short prayer for herself and
+everybody, uttered before quitting the feeble warmth
+of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
+the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard
+the shrill voices of children chanting some Christmas
+ditty; and she thought of Johnny when he was a boy,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
+with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
+all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and
+singing in a voice which could not fail to rouse the
+most determined sleeper.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He came home once with three shillings and twopence
+halfpenny, all in ha&#8217;pence,&#8217; thought Mrs. Duffy,
+wiping away a tear from the sunken corner of her eye.</p>
+
+<p>It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but
+as soon as she had reached the porch, and lifting up
+her quavering voice, began, &#8216;God rest you, merry
+gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,&#8217; the door was
+flung open quickly, and she was called in, and set before
+such a breakfast as she had not seen for years.
+Poor old Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s heart was very full, and before
+she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and
+tremulous voice: &#8216;I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks
+this year. It&#8217;s like them blessed Christmases we shall
+have when everybody&#8217;s friends, when the lion is friends
+with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
+Here&#8217;s Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter asked me to tea, and
+I&#8217;ve got a Christmas joint, and now there&#8217;s such a
+breakfast as I never see before, and me done nothing
+for it. I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks; but it&#8217;s a
+blessed Christmas, it is.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You&#8217;ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,&#8217;
+said the farmer&#8217;s wife, &#8216;and my husband&#8217;s father
+has given me a shilling for you.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after
+breakfast sang two or three carols, with as much zeal
+and energy as though they were sure to bring down
+many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
+after nine o&#8217;clock when she left the house; but there
+was the Christmas dinner to cook, and it was necessary
+to go home early for that. She bade them good-by,
+and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
+winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way
+back to the town.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into
+the high road, when a man suddenly started up from
+behind the hedge, and laid his hand roughly on her
+shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
+ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at
+that early hour, to be half stupefied with drink. She
+looked into his coarse face, with a feeling of terror
+which was new to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I want a shilling off you,&#8217; he said, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A shilling!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;where should a poor
+woman like me have a shilling from?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on
+never having told a lie. She looked up and down the
+road, but there was not a creature in sight; and she
+glanced again hopelessly into the man&#8217;s savage and
+stupid face. What should she do? To part with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
+the shilling just given to her would be a very great
+loss; and she knew it would only be spent in the
+nearest public-house. Should she be doing very
+wrong to deny having one? It was the first time for
+years that she had had a whole silver shilling about
+her; and any moment during that time she could have
+replied &#8216;No&#8217; boldly and truthfully. Might she not say
+&#8216;No&#8217; just this once?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he repeated, shaking
+her shoulder roughly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well,&#8217; she said, feebly, &#8216;I haven&#8217;t had a shilling
+ever so long; but I have got one now. I&#8217;m a very
+poor old woman, my good young man. If I&#8217;d got a
+penny, I&#8217;d give it you, and welcome.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I must have your shilling,&#8217; he said, doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I can&#8217;t give it you, indeed,&#8217; she answered; &#8216;there&#8217;s
+my rent, and coals, and other things; and I&#8217;m very
+poor. You&#8217;d only drink it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw
+the stranger produce a pistol from under his jacket,
+and point it at her. There was a sudden flash before
+her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
+without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank
+on the high road. A few minutes later, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+brougham was stopping at a toll-gate just outside the
+town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
+past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
+was inside, with Kate, who was going out with him to
+see her godfather, a clergyman in the next parish.
+The doctor, having finished what he had to say to
+the gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said
+in passing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He says there&#8217;s a woman up the road, who&#8217;s been
+shot, sir,&#8217; answered the servant, &#8216;and he says to me,
+&#8220;Look sharp after her, she&#8217;s an old woman, and very
+poor.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Shot!&#8217; exclaimed Dr. Layard; &#8216;drive on then,
+quickly. Katie, don&#8217;t be frightened. Gate, look after
+that fellow who has just gone through.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The last order was shouted through the window,
+as the carriage rolled rapidly away. In a few minutes
+they gained the spot where the old woman was lying
+as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
+staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her.
+Her old wrinkled face had lost all its apple-red, and
+her grey hair, scanty and short, had fallen down from
+under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
+exclaimed in one breath, &#8216;Mrs. Duffy!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a
+little shaken, and exceedingly troubled. She left the
+carriage, and sat down on the bank, supporting Mrs.
+Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
+examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and
+shoulder. His expression was very grave, and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
+stood for a few moments deliberating silently, with his
+eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
+and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is it dangerous?&#8217; asked Kate, falteringly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Almost fatal,&#8217; he answered; &#8216;within a touch of
+death. There&#8217;s one chance. I&#8217;m thinking of driving
+straight to Lentford Hospital. It&#8217;s a good level road
+all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
+town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift
+the old woman, and place her in an easy posture
+against you. Could you hold her pretty much as you
+are now for an hour or more? I&#8217;d do it myself; but
+you could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong
+enough?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I will be strong enough; I will do it,&#8217; said Kate,
+lifting up her head with determination and endurance
+in every line of her face.</p>
+
+<p>It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage
+was a new one, handsomely lined and fitted up; but
+the servant&#8217;s soul ran more upon such subjects, and
+he began to protest against lifting the wounded and
+bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old
+creature, too, thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dolt! idiot! brute!&#8217; ejaculated Dr. Layard, in
+high wrath; and Bob, who had only uttered half his
+protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
+carriage bowled rapidly along the smooth, straight old
+Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no sign of life,
+but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
+upon Kate&#8217;s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as
+she could, now and then clasping her warm fingers
+about her wrist, which was knotted and brown with
+age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to
+Kate&#8217;s touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with
+Bob, looked round from time to time, nodding to her,
+but with so grave a face that she felt the case was
+very serious. She thanked God fervently when the
+spires of Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of
+the morning chimes fell upon her ear. There were
+streams of people going to church, exchanging cheery
+salutations with one another; but many a person
+caught a glimpse of Kate&#8217;s pale and agitated face, and
+the grey head lying against her neck, and felt a shadow
+pass over their own Christmas gladness.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Layard&#8217;s carriage drove into the courtyard of
+the hospital, and then Kate was quickly relieved of
+her burden. Mrs. Duffy was carried away, and Dr.
+Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious and
+troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower
+struck one quarter after another, and Bob drove up
+and down at a snail&#8217;s pace in dreary and monotonous
+turns. At length some one beckoned to him from the
+hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>
+which betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the
+last moment that it was Dr. Carey, not her father,
+who had summoned him; and she shrank back,
+breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage
+which concealed her best from him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bob, your master says you must drive home,&#8217; said
+Dr. Carey; &#8216;he will return by train in the afternoon.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And the old woman, sir?&#8217; said Bob, &#8216;how&#8217;s she
+going on?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very little hope,&#8217; answered Philip Carey, whose
+face Kate could not see, but whose voice made every
+nerve thrill.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is it murder?&#8217; asked Bob, who had known Dr.
+Carey as his master&#8217;s assistant, and stood on very
+little ceremony with him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m afraid so,&#8217; he said; &#8216;how are they all at home,
+Bob? Miss Brooks and Miss Kate?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;She&#8217;s in there,&#8217; said Bob, pointing with his thumb
+to the carriage. Kate roused herself to lift up her
+head with dignity, sit erect upon her seat, and meet
+Dr. Carey&#8217;s salutation calmly. It was nearly four weeks
+since he had written to her, and she had replied,
+&#8216;Come.&#8217; He looked at her with an amazed and confused
+expression, and took off his hat, but did not
+attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
+bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still
+bareheaded, and as if lost in thought, walked slowly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
+back up the broad steps of the portico, and Kate cried
+most of the way home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I never saw anything like that,&#8217; thought Bob;
+&#8216;and they used to be like brother and sister, almost.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned,
+and then he had to see the superintendent
+of police. The stranger who had passed through the
+toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
+far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he
+was taken. Kate&#8217;s Christmas party passed off more
+successfully because one of the invited guests had been
+almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
+wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the
+farmer&#8217;s wife came to tell of Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s morning
+visit, and her cheerful carols just before the villain
+met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
+over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas
+by going to bed with a very heavy heart.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the stranger was found and sworn
+to by Bob, though he flatly denied having been anywhere
+in the direction of the toll-bar. Neither Dr.
+Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
+passed on the farther side of the carriage while they
+were talking at the other window. He was an utter
+stranger in the neighbourhood, without friends, and he
+stated that he was on the tramp. A very old pistol
+was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
+had been shot. The man was sent in safe custody to
+Lentford, to be brought face to face with the old
+woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
+to identify him and give her evidence against him.</p>
+
+<p>For twenty-four hours or more it continued very
+doubtful whether the poor old creature would ever
+rally. She had not spoken since she had been found,
+but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her
+hospital bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like
+the momentary glimmer of the sun on a cloudy day
+crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as if she
+were whispering. She knew when they were doing
+anything for her, for she tried to help herself, to raise
+her thin hand, or turn her grey head upon the pillow
+for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had
+known her in former days, spent as much time as he
+could beside her bed; and towards the close of the
+day, just before the night nurse was coming to take
+her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but
+very slowly and faintly, and he stooped over her to
+listen to what she said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter! Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter!&#8217;
+she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Would you like to see Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter?&#8217;
+asked Philip Carey, in his clearest and most pleasant
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; whispered the old woman.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>&#8216;To-morrow you shall,&#8217; he said; &#8216;it is too late
+now. To-morrow.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she assented, cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You will be better to-morrow,&#8217; he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, no,&#8217; murmured the old woman. &#8216;He shot
+me dead because I wouldn&#8217;t give him my shilling.
+He robbed me.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue
+sugar-paper in your pocket,&#8217; said Dr. Carey. A
+sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor drawn
+face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.</p>
+
+<p>She was certainly somewhat better in the morning,
+and watching the people who were about her; her mind
+was clear, and she evidently knew her circumstances,
+where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
+noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s
+sunken blue eyes brightened, yet filled with tears, as
+she looked up into their faces bending pityingly above
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, old friend,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, heartily, &#8216;you
+are better already. We are going to pull you through,
+you&#8217;ll see, Carey and me. We know what a tough
+old lady you are. Carey used to play you some
+tricks in the old times, and now he&#8217;ll make it up
+to you by pulling you through. Won&#8217;t you, Carey?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now
+she sat down, feeling weak and tremulous, on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
+chair at Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s head, keeping her eyes fixed
+upon the old woman&#8217;s face. Dr. Carey&#8217;s voice sounded
+oddly in her ears, as if he was speaking in very loud
+and constrained tones.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I am going to do my best,&#8217; he said, &#8216;but you
+must keep yourself quite still now, Mrs. Duffy, and
+get up your strength to tell the magistrate your story.
+You are a brave old woman, and won&#8217;t be afraid;
+and I&#8217;ll tell them you never told a lie in your life.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had
+not spoken yet, but she stretched out her hand, and
+tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey seemed to
+understand her meaning perfectly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You want Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter to sit where you
+can see her?&#8217; he said. &#8216;You want her to stay with
+you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she answered. &#8216;God bless her!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was Philip Carey who moved Kate&#8217;s chair, and
+placed it in a convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy
+to see her. She glanced at him once, but his eyes
+were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
+one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he
+and her father went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling
+now and then, closed her eyes and seemed to fall into
+a doze.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward
+was a small one, containing only four beds, and no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
+other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and had
+all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine
+was falling through the farthest window upon
+the bare white walls. Her mind was strangely divided
+between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
+was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken
+so kindly, even affectionately, to this poor, friendless
+old woman, but he had not spoken a word to her.
+How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel towards
+her? What reason or motive could possibly have
+made him change his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably,
+and plunge her into so much wretchedness
+and perplexity? She could not bear to meet
+him, yet she would have to bear it, for her father was
+so fond of him. How proud and happy her father
+would have been in him as his son in-law! It was
+too hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even
+have the misery some day of seeing his wife, the girl
+who had supplanted her, and made her life a blank.
+For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her
+ever to love another man. No one else could be to
+her what Philip Carey had been.</p>
+
+<p>The hour passed away, and there were several
+quiet signs of excitement. Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey
+came in, felt the old woman&#8217;s pulse, and gave her a
+cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she
+had better remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
+her hand closely, and wished her to stay. Three or
+four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about the
+bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her
+story, which was written down, word for word, from
+her lips. She had not much to say, and it was soon
+over.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Could you identify the individual?&#8217; inquired the
+magistrate&#8217;s clerk.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Should you know the man again?&#8217; asked Dr.
+Carey, who was standing close to Kate, and near old
+Mrs. Duffy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, to be sure,&#8217; she answered, with more energy
+than she had displayed before.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He has been taken;&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;that is,
+a man has been taken up, and we think he is the man.
+You must see him yourself.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate&#8217;s
+hand tightly. It might have been Dr. Carey&#8217;s hand,
+for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
+answered to it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Come, come,&#8217; he said, encouragingly, &#8216;you never
+used to be a coward; and you have only to open your
+eyes, and look at him. You have plenty of friends
+about you, you know.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s a dreadful man,&#8217; she said, in a whisper, &#8216;but
+let him come.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
+she listened to the regular tramp of the policeman,
+and the shambling tread of the murderer, coming
+down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
+closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful
+detective gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back
+of Kate&#8217;s chair, so close to her it almost touched her
+shoulder, and one of her brown curls fell upon it. The
+footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and stopped
+there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened
+glance. The murderer was a middle-aged man,
+with a full, heavy, red face, and light hair just turning
+grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole; he might
+have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for
+the drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was
+looking down at the wounded old woman with an air
+half sorrowful and half ashamed; but a little sullen
+also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
+policeman at his right hand was the only sign to
+mark him out as a criminal; and he seemed as much
+on the alert as if he expected him to make a second
+murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For
+a minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs.
+Duffy&#8217;s eyelids were closed, and her lips moved as if
+in prayer. She looked up at last; and her dim blue
+eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child
+who wakes frightened, changed like those of a child,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
+when it sees that the face bending over it is a familiar
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why,&#8217; she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad,
+&#8216;it&#8217;s my boy! It&#8217;s my Johnny!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion,
+and she was about to raise herself up to stretch
+out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was quick enough
+to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at
+Kate&#8217;s feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the
+old woman. Every one else stood motionless and
+thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir hand
+or foot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s my son as went to Australy,&#8217; continued
+Mrs. Duffy; &#8216;please let him come and kiss me.
+Don&#8217;t you know your poor old mother again, Johnny?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, mother! mother!&#8217; exclaimed the man,
+striking his hard hands together, &#8216;that&#8217;s my mother
+sir, as I came back to, and was looking for. I hadn&#8217;t
+seen her these thirty years, and she&#8217;s nothing like the
+woman she was. You&#8217;ll let me go and kiss her,
+maybe?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>He had spoken to the policeman next to him,
+and his official eye was softened; but the magistrates
+were there, and the indulgence was not his to
+grant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is this the person who attempted first to rob
+and then to murder you?&#8217; asked the magistrate&#8217;s
+clerk.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>&#8216;Oh, dear no! it&#8217;s my boy,&#8217; said the old woman;
+&#8216;he&#8217;d never shoot at his mother, bless you! It was
+quite a different man, not him; a dreadful man.
+That&#8217;s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers.
+He&#8217;d never lift up his hand agen me; please let him
+go.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was no question in Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s mind as
+to whether she was telling the truth or not. Her
+gladness was so great that her mind utterly refused
+the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
+could have thought of robbing and murdering her.
+If he had been brought before her red-handed with
+her blood, she would still have believed herself mistaken.
+It was some ruffian and monster who had shot
+her, not her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot
+eyes were filled with tears, and his voice, as he began
+to speak, was choked and husky.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sir,&#8217; he said, addressing no one in particular,
+&#8216;she&#8217;s not like the same woman, but she&#8217;s my mother.
+She had brown hair, and was very strong. I never
+thought of her being like that. I wish I&#8217;d kept free
+from drink. Nobody knows what drink&#8217;ll bring him
+to. She&#8217;s my mother; and I came back to work
+for her, if she were still alive. I&#8217;ll never taste a drop
+again as long&#8217;s I live.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Hush, hush!&#8217; said Dr. Layard, coming behind
+him, and tapping him on the shoulder; &#8216;hold your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
+tongue, my good fellow. You&#8217;ll make your mother
+worse again if you talk. There&#8217;s a good chance for
+her if she&#8217;s kept quiet.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The magistrates and their clerk walked away to
+the end of the ward, and held a short consultation
+there. There was not much doubt that this man was
+the right man; but there was no one to bring home
+the crime to him, except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+servant, swore positively that he was the man
+who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered;
+but the woman herself denied that it was he
+who had attacked her. To be sure there was more
+than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she persisted
+in it, what was to be done?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You must remember you are upon your oath,&#8217;
+said the elder magistrate, &#8216;and probably upon your
+deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and tell
+me if he is not the man who shot at you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling
+more and more, until her pale, shrunken face grew
+radiant with happiness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why, it couldn&#8217;t be him,&#8217; she said, &#8216;how could it?
+Ay, ay; I could swear it were never him; my Johnny.
+Please let him stay aside of me for a bit. The police
+may stop for him if you like; but he&#8217;d never do it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Carey and I will be bail for him, if it&#8217;s necessary,&#8217;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
+said Dr. Layard, &#8216;only let the poor fellow shake
+hands with his mother. There, let him go.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman&#8217;s
+grasp, and sunk down on his knees at his
+mother&#8217;s feet, hiding his face in the bed-clothes, and
+sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time
+his mother&#8217;s eyes were shining upon him, and her
+arms, still kept firmly down by Dr. Carey, were
+trembling to touch him.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrates and their retinue went their way,
+leaving Mrs. Duffy with her son, while Kate and
+Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof from them, and
+from each other. The man crept closer and closer
+to his mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon
+her hand. There was a deep silence in the ward.
+Outside in the corridor, through the half open door,
+could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mother,&#8217; sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and
+faltering voice, &#8216;can you forgive me?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why! there&#8217;s nothing to forgive, Johnny,&#8217; she
+said, &#8216;and I&#8217;m so happy, I&#8217;d forgive everybody. I&#8217;d
+forgive the raskill as shot me. I have forgive him
+already, Johnny.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I want you to get well, mother,&#8217; he said, with
+desperate earnestness, &#8216;and I&#8217;ll make it all up to you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>
+I&#8217;m come back to work for you, and indeed, I&#8217;ll work.
+Will you forgive me, mother?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Forgive you, Johnny!&#8217; she murmured, &#8216;it&#8217;s a
+easy thing to forgive a body when you love a body.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable,
+from the old woman&#8217;s white lips, and Kate&#8217;s heart
+sank like lead. The withered face had grown paler,
+and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
+blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and
+Philip Carey turned quickly towards her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is she going to die, Philip?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;She is very faint,&#8217; he replied, &#8216;She has been too
+much excited, but she may rally yet. Go and send
+me a nurse, and do not return yourself.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears
+falling fast from her eyes. She was no longer grieving
+over her own troubles, but for the hopeful, cheery,
+brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son
+again in such a manner, and at such a moment as
+this. She waited in the matron&#8217;s parlour until a
+message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was
+sleeping again, with her son watching and waiting
+beside her. Then she returned home with her father.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy&#8217;s the man,&#8217;
+shouted Dr. Layard to her, above the noise of the
+train; &#8216;but the thing cannot be brought home to him.
+The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>
+labouring under a delusion. She no more believes
+that her son was the man who shot at her than I believe
+that you did it. I question whether she would
+believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he
+must not do. I&#8217;ve told him so. I said, &#8220;Duffy, I feel
+pretty sure you are the villain that did it, and if she
+dies I&#8217;ll do my best to prove it. But never you tell
+your mother it was yourself; it would go far to break
+her heart.&#8221; And he said, &#8220;I&#8217;ll never speak a word
+about it, one way or the other, sir.&#8221; Oh! Duffy did it!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you think she will die?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Carey will do his best for her,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
+&#8216;I never saw such a change in a young fellow as there
+is in Carey. He is as dull as a beetle; just when he
+has got all he has been striving for, too! I don&#8217;t understand
+it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate believed she understood it, but she kept
+silence. It was not likely he could feel happy and
+at ease in her presence or her father&#8217;s if he had a
+spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good
+deal of feeling. She had caught his eye once during
+the strange interview round Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s bed, and
+they had looked at one another with a sympathy
+which had seemed at the moment the most natural
+thing in the world. She had called him Philip, too!
+How her cheeks burned at the very recollection. She
+wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
+manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten
+herself, and it had been a happier moment than
+she had felt for these four weeks past. Perhaps utter
+forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Kate was once more sitting
+alone before the fire in the breakfast-room, with nothing
+particular to do, until it was time to start for
+Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a
+large official-looking cover, with the words &#8216;Dead
+Letter Office&#8217; printed upon it, and addressed &#8216;Miss
+Kate Layard, Ilverton.&#8217; It was the first time in her
+life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
+packet. She opened it with some trepidation,
+and drew from it her own brief note to Philip Carey,
+written four weeks before. The envelope bore several
+postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
+after another&mdash;Liverpool, then Manchester, then London&mdash;but
+it was several minutes before she discovered
+how it had all happened. Her own handwriting lay
+before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
+she had directed her letter to &#8216;Dr. Carey, Everton
+Square, Liverpool.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead
+of Lentford she could never understand. It was
+true Philip had gone to Liverpool after leaving
+Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
+mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
+as miserable a time as herself. He must have come
+to the conclusion that she did not care for him, and
+that she had not even the grace to thank him for the
+love he had bestowed upon her in vain. What could
+he have thought of her? It must have been a pain
+to him. She would make it up to him in some
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Kate&#8217;s brain was in a whirl all the way to
+Lentford. She walked up the broad steps of the
+hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
+porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly
+at her; and the students, hurrying along the broad
+corridors, took off their hats to Dr. Layard&#8217;s pretty
+daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
+a good-sized room, with benches round and across
+it, upon which were seated rows of poor patients,
+waiting humbly for their turn to go in and see the
+doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an
+inch or two, and Kate saw Philip Carey&#8217;s face, grave
+and care-worn, listening to a poor woman who was
+just going away by another entrance. She laid her
+hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in,
+and passed on into the room instead. &#8216;Philip,&#8217; she
+said, her face flushing at his look of amazement, &#8216;I
+am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
+miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Wrote what?&#8217; he asked, clasping the hand with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>
+which she offered him the misdirected letter, and
+holding both closely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I only wrote &#8220;Come,&#8221;&#8217; stammered Kate, the
+tears starting into her eyes, &#8216;and I thought&mdash;oh, I
+don&#8217;t know what I thought! I directed it to Liverpool
+instead of Lentford, and it&#8217;s been wandering
+about ever since. Do you understand?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you mean you will be my wife?&#8217; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>They had only three minutes to themselves.
+Three minutes was the time allotted for each case,
+and as it expired the door was opened again an inch
+or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next
+patient. Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and
+dismissed her with a glance which set her heart
+beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
+flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs.
+Duffy was lying as if she trod on air. The old
+woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her eyes
+calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red
+beginning to show itself upon her cheek. The
+good chance for her recovery was a still better one
+this morning.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s coming back again this morning,&#8217; she
+whispered in Kate&#8217;s ear; &#8216;they let him stay beside
+me all yesterday, and he&#8217;s coming back again to-day.
+It&#8217;s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
+like it. I hope they&#8217;ll never catch that poor raskill
+as shot me, I do. It &#8217;ud spoil my Christmas and
+Johnny&#8217;s if they did. Has it been a happy Christmas
+for you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very happy,&#8217; answered Kate, with a bright smile,
+as the present joy blotted out the remembrance of the
+past sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s right, my dear!&#8217; murmured Mrs. Duffy,
+&#8216;I don&#8217;t know as ever I knew such a Christmas.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made
+his appearance at Dr. Layard&#8217;s that evening, and
+delighted him beyond measure by asking him for
+Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three
+years longer in undisturbed happiness, and in a
+degree of comfort to which she had been unaccustomed
+throughout her life. For her son, who had
+not prospered much in Australia, worked industriously
+and steadily to maintain her at home, and
+devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was
+not till after her death, when Kate Carey was standing
+beside her coffin looking down at the placid face and
+closed eyes of the old woman, that he told the story
+of his return home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;d worked my passage across, ma&#8217;am,&#8217; he said,
+the tears rolling down his cheeks, &#8216;and I&#8217;d landed in
+Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with as much as
+five pound in my pocket, all I&#8217;d saved in Australy;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
+and there were a lot set on me, and took me to a
+public, and I suppose I drank all my wits away. I
+reached Ilverton by the last train on Christmas Eve,
+but I didn&#8217;t know as mother were gone to live in
+the town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a
+bench at the railway station. I hadn&#8217;t a penny left,
+when I set out to seek mother; and I were wandering
+about very miserable, when I saw a decent old
+woman coming along all alone. I only thought I&#8217;d
+frighten a shilling out of her. I never meant no
+harm. The pistol were an old pistol I&#8217;d had in the
+bush; and I didn&#8217;t recollect it was loaded, and it
+went bursting off, all in an instant of time. That
+quite brought me to, and I were running away to find
+somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming.
+I seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I
+found out it were my own poor old mother, which I
+did face to face with her in the hospital, I felt as I
+should die. She never knew as it were me, never.
+She used to talk about him, and say, &#8220;I forgave him,
+Johnny, and I hope God has forgave him too, whoever
+he is.&#8221; I shall never see another woman like my
+poor old mother.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">
+LONDON: PRINTED BY<br />
+SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br />
+AND PARLIAMENT STREET</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1"><span class="smcap">WORKS by HESBA STRETTON</span>,</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/bennetts.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. CASSY.</b> Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching kind, and the narrative,
+while free and graceful, is really of the most compressed and masterly character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another treat, as real to
+grown-up people as to children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Herald.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>II. THE KING&#8217;S SERVANTS.</b> With Eight Illustrations.
+Thirtieth Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+Part I. Faithful in Little.<span class="gap">Part II. Unfaithful.</span><br />
+Part III. Faithful in Much.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly told, and the religious
+purpose constantly kept in view.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Watchman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An interesting story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a living power likely to
+carry it home to the hearts of all who read it.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Freeman.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>III. LOST GIP.</b> Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations.
+Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.</b> Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo.
+2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>This little book is intended to present the result of close investigations
+made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous narrative,
+suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for those who have
+not the leisure or the books needed for threading together the fragmentary
+and scattered incidents recorded in the four Gospels.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the wonderful story with a
+forcible simplicity that will appeal to all readers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the Sunday-school, and is also
+suitable for a Sunday-school prize.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is invaluable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Sunday-School Quarterly Journal.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center"><b>A LIST OF</b></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph1">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S</p>
+
+<p class="center">BOOKS SUITABLE FOR</p>
+
+<p class="ph1">CHILDREN&#8217;S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> <i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
+comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History,
+Education, Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis
+on application.</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES</b>, for
+Home Reading and Cottage Meetings. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Containing</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8216;Little Meggie&#8217;s Home,&#8217; &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>     &#8216;Sermon in Baby&#8217;s Shoes,&#8217;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&#8216;Aggie&#8217;s Christmas,&#8217;</td><td>    &#8216;Lina.&#8217;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<p>Small square, uniform with &#8216;Lost Gip,&#8217; &amp;c. Three Illustrations.
+Price 1<i>s</i>. 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>DADDIE&#8217;S PET.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Ellen Ross</span> (&#8216;Nelsie Brook&#8217;). A
+Sketch from Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with &#8216;Lost
+Gip.&#8217; With Six Illustrations. 1<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of writing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Christian World.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A very pretty tale.&#8217;&mdash;<i>John Bull.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A pretty little story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Scotsman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An exceedingly pretty little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>LOCKED OUT</b>: A Tale of the Strike. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Barlee</span>. With
+a Frontispiece. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial libraries,
+whether in country or in town.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well written.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of<br />
+BOOKS for JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">Works by the Author of &#8216;St. Olave&#8217;s,&#8217; &#8216;When I was a Little Girl,&#8217; &amp;c.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. AUNT MARY&#8217;S BRAN PIE.</b> Illustrated.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A bright story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Globe.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The stories are exceedingly good.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Capital stories.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of the season.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary
+World.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.</b> Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BRAVE MEN&#8217;S FOOTSTEPS.</b> A Book of Example and
+Anecdote for Young People. By the Editor of &#8216;Men who have Risen.&#8217;
+With Four Illustrations by <span class="smcap">C. Doyle</span>. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<p>The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
+character, and their operation under different forms of effort. Success
+is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of those who, in choosing
+a gift for a boy, would consult his moral development as well as his temporary pleasure.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily
+Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A readable and instructive volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved success.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.</b>
+With Eleven Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who meddles always
+with a kindly disposition with other people&#8217;s affairs, and helps them to do right. There
+are many shrewd lessons to be picked up in this clever little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so well how to
+produce.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds Mercury.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Original, faithful, and humorous story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Manchester Examiner.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.</b> With Ten Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">J. Mahoney</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our boys and girls.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A very attractive story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds
+Mercury.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much useful knowledge of
+natural history. The story is told in a pleasant, chatty style.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN</b>;
+with some Lessons in Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By <span class="smcap">Sara
+Coleridge</span>. A New Edition. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little folk through what has been
+called &#8220;the bitterness of learning.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Saturday Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book for children. It
+teaches us many a good moral, many a good common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which
+are, for the most part, very musical to the ear.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.</b> By
+Colonel <span class="smcap">E. P. De L&#8217;Hoste</span>. Translated from the French of Eug&egrave;ne
+Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest heroism; unpretentious
+religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a household brought up in the fear of the
+Lord.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious liberty of a real
+man.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little book will not prove
+attractive.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Quarterly.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>
+<span class="indent"><b>I. ELSIE DINSMORE.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
+<span class="indent2"><b>II. ELSIE&#8217;S GIRLHOOD.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
+<b>III. ELSIE&#8217;S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.</b> Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is portrayed in three
+different volumes. By the help, however, of the illustrations, and by dips here and there,
+we can safely give a favourable account.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers. In the above three
+pretty volumes her story is complete, and it is one full of youthful experiences, winning
+a general interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>THE DESERTED SHIP.</b> A Real Story of the Atlantic. By
+<span class="smcap">Cupples Howe</span>, Master Mariner. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span>.
+Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and with scarcely
+more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with which the story deals, and will
+much interest boys who have a spice of romance in their composition.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh
+Courant.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended, yet stirring events, which
+please a boy, more than any other quality.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Daily Review.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jean Ingelow</span>. A
+Second Series of &#8216;Stories told to a Child.&#8217; With Fifteen Illustrations.
+Square 24mo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We like all the contents of the &#8220;Little Wonder-Horn&#8221; very much.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We recommend it with confidence.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of some of the best of
+our modern verse.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.</b>
+By <span class="smcap">George MacDonald</span>. With Nine Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Arthur
+Hughes</span>. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story through five times.
+Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept that verdict upon his little work as final.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>PLUCKY FELLOWS.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">Stephen J.
+MacKenna</span>. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;This is one of the very best &#8220;Books for Boys&#8221; which have been issued this year.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning
+Advertiser.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly, straightforward
+manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Society.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>LITTLE MINNIE&#8217;S TROUBLES</b>: an Every-day Chronicle.
+By <span class="smcap">N. R. D&#8217;Anvers</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">W. H. Hughes</span>. Fcp. 8vo.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE AFRICAN CRUISER.</b> A Midshipman&#8217;s Adventures on
+the West Coast. By <span class="smcap">S. W. Sadler</span>, R.N., Author of &#8216;Marshall
+Vavasour.&#8217; A Book for Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second
+Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will find few pleasanter
+gift-books this season than &#8220;The African Cruiser.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this, written in a brisk style by
+a thorough sailor, is crammed full of adventures.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.</b> Crown
+8vo. With Four Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;Seeking his Fortune&mdash;Oluf and Stephanoff&mdash;What&#8217;s
+in a Name?&mdash;Contrast&mdash;Onesta.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise detailed manner which we
+are sure young people like.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound and generous moral....
+We can answer for it that this volume will find favour with those for whom it is
+written, and that the sisters will like it quite as well as the brothers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.</b>
+Illustrated with Nine Etchings.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+
+<tr><td>Mermaid.</td><td>    Specklesides.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Little Hans.</td><td>      Black Sneid.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dimple.</td><td>      Little Curly.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Two Princes.</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING<br />
+BOOKS FOR JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN&#8217;S
+LAND.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo. With a
+Frontispiece.</p>
+
+
+<p>This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as to the
+leading incidents of the Bushranger&#8217;s career. The tale may therefore
+be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and this he does in a
+highly creditable manner. His delineations of life in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite,
+and his representations of character are very marked.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE TASMANIAN LILY.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo.
+With Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;An interesting and useful work.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full of those touches
+which give them a natural appearance.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Two Works by DAVID KER.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.</b> A Tale of Central
+Asia. Crown 8vo. With Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p>In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero;
+genuine information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of
+a mere dry statistical report.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate the story, has
+a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of courage and ability, from a state of
+slavery to one of independence. Will prove attractive to boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Exciting boy&#8217;s story, well told and abounding in incidents.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An attractive boy&#8217;s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes round an imaginary
+hero.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.</b>
+Crown 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">[<i>Just out.</i></p>
+</div>
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL
+FIELD CLUB.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">G. C. Davies</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>FANTASTIC STORIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard Leander</span>. Translated
+from the German by <span class="smcap">Paulina B. Granville</span>. With Eight full-page
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">M. E. Fraser-Tytler</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal with all manner of
+subjects.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;Fantastic&#8221; is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of these strange tales.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of Paris.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;The Knight who grew Rusty&#8221; is a delightful story, but &#8220;The Queen who could
+not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could not play on the Jew&#8217;s harp,&#8221; will
+probably be the children&#8217;s favourite.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jacob De Liefde</span>.
+Crown 8vo. With Eleven Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span> and
+others.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A wholesome present for boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really good book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really excellent book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>HER TITLE OF HONOUR</b>: a Book for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Holme
+Lee</span>. New Edition. Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee&#8217;s, for they are well known, and
+all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds even our favourites, not perhaps as a
+story, for this is of the simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story is
+united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because, also, it is a careful and
+beautiful piece of writing, and is full of studies of refined and charming character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as valuable as it is rare.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.</b> By <span class="smcap">Stephen
+J. MacKenna</span>. Crown 8vo. With Six Illustrations.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military adventure.... Boys will
+find them sufficiently exciting reading.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of soldiering in
+various parts of the world.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mr. MacKenna&#8217;s former work, &#8220;Plucky Fellows,&#8221; is already a general favourite, and
+those who read the stories of the Old Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of
+materials at hand for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them well.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD
+TO WOMANHOOD.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>. With a
+Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A good tale&mdash;good in composition, good in style, good in purpose.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good and important
+one.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.</b> From Russian, Servian, Polish,
+and Bohemian Sources. By <span class="smcap">John T. Naake</span>, of the British Museum.
+With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original national
+ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands besides children. Yet children
+will eagerly open the pages, and not willingly close them, of the pretty volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with eleven
+Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight Russian and thirteen Servian,
+in Mr. Naake&#8217;s modest but serviceable collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents
+are, as a general rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which deserves
+cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got up volume, we ought to
+mention that its contents fully come up to the promise held out in its preface.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Helen Zimmern</span>.
+With Six Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural, and pleasantly quaint,
+as befits stories intended for the young.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate, and which will remind
+its readers of many a legend, and many an imaginary virtue attached to the gems
+they are so fond of wearing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Post.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>THE BETTER SELF.</b> By <span class="smcap">J. Hain Friswell</span>. Essays for
+Home Life. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+
+<tr><td>Beginning at Home</td><td>   Pride in the Family</td><td>     Likes and Dislikes</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Girls at Home</td><td>   Discontent and Grumbling &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>  On Keeping People Down</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Wife&#8217;s Mother &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>   Domestic Economy</td><td>  On Falling Out Peace</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as sound and wholesome
+as it is noble and elevated.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without becoming a
+bore.&#8217;&mdash;<i>City Press.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BY STILL WATERS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edward Garrett</span>. A Story for
+Quiet Hours. Crown 8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has pleased us so well
+as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed us.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to meet. His stories
+are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and there is about them a rare atmosphere of
+not unpleasing meditative melancholy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.</b> By
+<span class="smcap">Mary M. Howard</span>, Author of &#8216;Brampton Rectory.&#8217; Crown 8vo.
+6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;These tales possess considerable merit.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Court Journal.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A neat and chatty little volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard A.
+Proctor</span>, B.A., Author of &#8216;Saturn and its Systems,&#8217; &#8216;The Universe,&#8217;
+&#8216;The Expanse of Heaven,&#8217; &amp;c. To which are added, &#8216;Essays on
+Astrology&#8217; and &#8216;The Jewish Sabbath.&#8217; Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.</b> A Series of Essays on the
+Wonders of the Firmament. By <span class="smcap">Richard A. Proctor</span>, B.A.
+With a Frontispiece. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader&#8217;s mind up &#8220;through nature&#8217;s
+work to nature&#8217;s God.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of thought, readable, and popular.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>PHANTASMION.</b> A Fairy Romance. By <span class="smcap">Sara Coleridge</span>.
+With an Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord <span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>,
+of Ottery S. Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
+long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience and
+a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination, melody
+of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity of conception.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a time in a veritable
+region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of unreality, and surrounded by supernatural
+beings.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice the length,
+closing the book with a feeling of regret that the repast was at an end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Vanity Fair.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.</b> By <span class="smcap">Harriett Parr</span>.
+Crown 8vo. 8<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
+young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
+the great struggle.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and if children are
+not interested in her book, many of their seniors will be.&#8217;&mdash;<i>British Quarterly Review.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1">POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>LYRICS OF LOVE</b>, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected
+and arranged by <span class="smcap">W. Davenport Adams</span>, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth
+extra, gilt edges, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in these
+particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems. (2) That
+each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and (3) That it
+includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as of the earliest
+writers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.</b> By the Rev. Canon
+<span class="smcap">R. H. Baynes</span>, Editor of &#8216;Lyra Anglicana,&#8217; &amp;c. Second Edition.
+Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
+various members of Christ&#8217;s Church Militant here on earth.</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high standard of excellence.
+The pieces are short, mostly original, and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent
+spirit of devotion.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>POEMS.</b> By <span class="smcap">William Cullen Bryant</span>. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
+bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author.
+7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
+and they contain several of the Author&#8217;s Poems which have not appeared in
+any previous Collection.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained the fame and
+position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer than William Cullen Bryant.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>ENGLISH SONNETS.</b> Collected and Arranged by <span class="smcap">John Dennis</span>.
+Fcap. 8vo. Elegantly bound. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the Elizabethan
+to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of poetry, and not only
+for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in order to pass away an
+idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words of Marlowe, &#8216;infinite
+riches in a little room.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry will consult again and
+again with delight. The notes are very useful.... The volume is one for which English
+literature owes Mr. Dennis the heartiest thanks.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1"><i>W. C. BENNETT&#8217;S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Library Edition.</span> Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>BABY MAY</b>&mdash;HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People&#8217;s Edition,
+in Two Parts, paper covers, 1<i>s.</i> each.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every mother
+ought to learn &#8220;Baby May&#8221; and &#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; off by heart.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
+much na&iuml;ve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Those readers who do not as yet know &#8220;Baby May&#8221; should make
+her acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will find
+her in good company.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
+his pages.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; is worthy to rank with &#8220;Baby May,&#8221; which, from
+its completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one of the
+most exquisite among Dr. Bennett&#8217;s productions.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
+language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Weekly Dispatch.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SONGS FOR SAILORS.</b> Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; paper
+covers, 1<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very spirited.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Really admirable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Right well done.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sure of a wide popularity.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Advertiser.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Songs that sailors most enjoy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
+Dibdin.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER&#8217;S NOTES:</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
+</div></div>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65830 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/65830-0.txt b/old/65830-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9329801
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2603 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's
+Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year, by Hesba Stretton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable
+       Christmas and a Happy New Year
+
+Author: Hesba Stretton
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2021 [eBook #65830]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed
+             Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+             produced from images generously made available by The Internet
+             Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM
+FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***
+
+
+
+
+TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
+
+
+
+
+By the Author of ‘Jessica’s First Prayer.’
+
+_Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with Frontispiece._
+
+Price Sixpence each
+
+
+  FRIENDS TILL DEATH.
+  THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON.  1 vol.
+  MICHEL LORIO’S CROSS.
+  OLD TRANSOME.
+
+  For a list of other Works by the same Author,
+  see the Catalogue at the end of this work.
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine.’
+
+                                                 _See page 24._]
+
+
+
+
+  TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES
+
+  _SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK_
+
+  _A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND
+  A HAPPY NEW YEAR_
+
+
+  BY
+  HESBA STRETTON
+
+  AUTHOR OF
+  ‘LOST GIP’ ‘CASSY’ ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER’ ETC.
+
+
+  WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  _HENRY S. KING & CO., LONDON_
+  1876
+
+
+(_All rights reserved_)
+
+
+
+
+SAM FRANKLIN’S SAVINGS-BANK.
+
+
+If any one had told Sam Franklin before he married that he would ever
+save money out of his wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn;
+they had never been more than enough when he had only himself to keep,
+and when there was a wife into the bargain, what chance would there be
+for him to have a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
+many weeks, he had made the discovery that the wages which had only
+been enough for one were rather more than enough for two. There were no
+dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long evenings spent in the
+public-houses, no laundresses’ bills to meet. He had a great deal more
+comfort with a somewhat smaller outlay.
+
+When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over and above the sum he
+allowed his wife for housekeeping and rent, he hardly knew what to do
+with it. His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did not care to
+leave it for the tavern. He and his wife were living on the first-floor
+of a house in a decent, quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans
+like himself, though the houses were from three to four stories high,
+and had been built for richer people. They had a sitting-room, with
+a bedroom behind it, and the use of a back kitchen for cooking and
+washing; so the place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann Franklin
+had notions of cleanliness and smartness, which made her take great
+pride in herself and all her belongings. The parlour, as she liked it
+to be called, was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
+had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise and smoke of a
+public-house taproom.
+
+What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown? It doubled itself
+into five shillings, and by-and-by a golden half-sovereign lay among
+the silver and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was a man
+of few words--a close man, his comrades called him--and silent as
+the grave concerning his own affairs. Had he told one of them when
+he was about to be married? Not his best friend amongst them! Had he
+mentioned it as a piece of news interesting to himself that he had a
+son born? Never! He despised men who could not keep a still tongue
+in their heads, but must prate about all they did or thought. Even
+with his wife he was sparing of words, though he liked her to tell him
+everything she did, and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was only
+a woman; a man should have more control over his tongue.
+
+So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his savings, though they
+seemed to grow like seed sown in good ground. Every week he gave his
+wife the sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the best of it
+cheerfully, letting him know how every penny was spent, and sometimes
+wondering to him how his comrades’ wives managed to be so much smarter
+than she was. At first he had thoughts of buying her a new bonnet or
+shawl, but he scarcely liked to own that he had been keeping back
+the money from her. This difficulty became greater as the sum grew
+larger; and, besides that, the possession of it began to get a hold
+upon him. It gave to him a secret consciousness of wealth among his
+fellow-workmen, which was very pleasant for a time; but by-and-by this
+feeling passed away, and a strange, unaccountable dread of being poor
+took possession of him. He began to talk about bad times, and the high
+prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses of a family, though
+his own consisted of his cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But
+this change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither himself
+nor his wife had any idea what was going on. He spent his evenings
+at home, and went nearly every Sunday to the place of worship which
+Ann and Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud of her tall,
+fine-looking husband, whose clothes she kept in such good order that he
+looked, in her eyes at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
+say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann was too true a
+wife to let it be said in her presence. He was industrious and steady,
+and kind to her and the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
+both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the bad times, not
+her husband’s.
+
+When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and had two Bank of England
+notes to take care of, his difficulty and perplexity had very much
+increased. There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had no faith
+in the old savings-banks, for he could remember how his poor old
+mother had lost every penny of her painful savings by the breaking of
+the one she had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about it,
+after keeping such a secret so long. The money became a trouble to
+him, though perhaps it was his most cherished possession. Certainly he
+thought of it oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
+it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he took it to the
+work-yard with him he was fearful of losing it, whilst if he left it
+at home he was quite as much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it
+would alter the face of things if she discovered that he was the owner
+of all that money, and had never told her!
+
+At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty pounds, a bright idea
+struck him one day. He stayed at home the next Sunday evening, and
+having found his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a good
+strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part of one of the seams
+large enough to take in a folded bank-note, and spread them as high as
+he could reach with his finger up and down the breast of it. He could
+not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been sewn before, but he
+was obliged to trust to Ann not noticing it, for it was a worn-out
+waistcoat and past her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
+first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat buttoned across
+it.
+
+‘Good gracious, Sam!’ she cried, ‘whatever made you put on that old
+thing?’
+
+‘It’s warmer than any I’ve got,’ he answered, putting his hand up
+against the breast of it where the bank-notes lay safe and hidden.
+
+‘It’s so old-fashioned,’ she said, discontentedly; ‘but it doesn’t
+matter much if you won’t go out of doors in it. Men have no notion of
+things.’
+
+‘What was the text, Ann?’ he inquired, simply to turn away her
+attention from the old waistcoat.
+
+‘Oh! it hadn’t anything to do with us,’ she replied, more cheerfully;
+‘it was, ‘The love of money is the root of all evil.’ Nothing for us in
+that, you know, though the preacher did say we might love it as much
+from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have it, nor crave
+it.’
+
+Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any further remark. He told
+his wife he should always put on his old waistcoat when he came in
+from his work; and he continued to do so regularly for some time, then
+occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat simply hung on a nail
+behind the bedroom door, only being taken down once a week by Ann, to
+have the dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had another note
+to add to those he had already secured; and he became so skilled in
+opening and sewing the seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing
+any difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy Sunday, feeling
+a deep satisfaction in his admirable scheme for concealing and taking
+care of his savings.
+
+Month after month, and year after year, the old waistcoat kept his
+secret faithfully. His eyes rested upon it first thing in the morning
+and last thing at night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
+there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever, grudging his wife
+her bits of blue and pink ribbon, with which she made herself smart,
+and altogether refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
+sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had paid hitherto at a
+dame’s-school. He was longing to make up fifty pounds; he had already
+forty-five in his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds sounded
+than forty-five!
+
+He had between three and four pounds towards this very desirable end,
+when one night, upon his return from work, he went as usual into the
+back room to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards the
+familiar object behind the door. But it was not there! The place was
+bare, and the nail empty. The mere sight of an empty nail in that place
+filled him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away in some
+drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was broken and tremulous.
+
+‘Where have you put my old waistcoat?’ he asked. He could hear her
+pouring the boiling water over the tea in the next room, and she did
+not answer before clicking down the lid of the teapot.
+
+‘Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,’ she answered, in a cheerful
+voice, ‘so I made a right good bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an
+old-clothesman.’
+
+The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as if he had received a
+heavy blow, and fell on the floor. He did not quite lose his senses,
+for he felt Ann trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
+him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and sit down on the foot
+of the bed, but still he found himself giddy and stunned.
+
+‘Where is it?’ he cried, bursting into tears and sobs, like a child;
+‘where is it?’
+
+‘The old waistcoat?’ she asked, thinking he was gone out of his mind.
+
+‘Yes!’ he said. ‘There was nine five-pound notes in it; forty-five
+pounds in Bank of England notes!’
+
+At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by his fall, and he was
+rambling; but as he kept on moaning over his loss, and confessing how
+he had concealed the notes from her, she began to believe him, and all
+the sooner when he pulled out the three sovereigns he had saved towards
+the tenth note and flung them on the floor in angry despair.
+
+‘And I don’t know the man from Adam!’ cried Ann. ‘I never saw him
+before; and he’ll take very good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam!
+how could you? how could you keep it a secret all these years, when
+I never bought as much as a yard of ribbon or a collar on the sly? I
+can’t forgive it, or forget it either.’
+
+She felt it very hard that Sam should not have trusted her. The loss
+of the money was hard, and she could not help thinking what a large sum
+it was, and what it might have done for Johnny. But the loss of faith
+in her husband was ten times worse. How could she ever believe in him
+again? or how could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
+trusted her?
+
+It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed his money so bitterly
+that Ann began to fancy he would rather have lost her or his child. She
+sat silent and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost raving
+with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him the next morning before
+he set off to the yard, though she knew he had lain awake all night
+like herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast. It was a
+cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling the air. Sam was wet
+through before he reached his work, and there was no chance of drying
+his clothes. He was wet through when he came home, but there were no
+dry, warm things laid out for him. He might wait upon himself, thought
+Ann; it would be well for him to see the difference between a good wife
+and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a change of clothing for
+himself, and he sat shivering on the hearth all night, in spite of the
+warm, cheerful blaze of the bright fire.
+
+By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin was compelled to knock
+off work. Severe rheumatic fever had set in, and the doctor said he
+must not expect to get back to the yard for three months or more.
+Perhaps it was the best thing that could have befallen him, for it
+brought back all the old warm love for him to his wife’s heart, which
+had been grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of trust in
+her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying a word to blame him now he
+could not get out of her way, as many wives would have done. Before
+his illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her own best
+clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere necessaries of life. Never
+had Sam Franklin thought his wife would have to go day after day to the
+pawn-shop; but she did it so cheerfully that half of the sting of it
+was taken away.
+
+‘Nancy,’ he said, one morning, ‘all night long I’ve had a text ringing
+in my head, ‘You cannot serve God and mammon,’ ‘You cannot serve God
+and mammon!’ Why, I used to think I was doing God a service when I put
+on my Sunday clothes and went to church of a Sunday morning with you.
+As if He’d think that were serving Him! And then all the week I was
+worshipping that old waistcoat of mine hanging behind the door, as much
+as any poor heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I begin to think
+it was God who put it in your heart to sell it to the old-clothesman.
+But how can I serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can’t do anything save
+lie in this bed and be a burden to you.’
+
+Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband, whispering, ‘I don’t
+mind a bit about you being a burden, as you call it;’ and after that
+she opened a Bible and read these words: ‘Then said they unto him, What
+shall we do, that we may work the works of God? Jesus answered and said
+unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him whom he hath
+sent.’
+
+‘Ay! I see it,’ he said, after a long pause, ‘that’s a work I can begin
+better here, perhaps, than in the yard at my work. I can work for God
+that way, lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And now I come
+to think of it, Jesus Christ never served mammon anyway, and if I
+believe in Him I shall try to be like Him. It’s no use praying to God
+on Sundays and doing contrary all the week, wailing after money and
+such like.’
+
+‘Sam,’ answered his wife, ‘I’ve not been believing in him as I ought,
+for I’ve been fretting after that old waistcoat ever so, thinking how
+useful the money would be now; but if you’ll help me I’ll help you, and
+we’ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we could see him coming
+into the room and talking to us.’
+
+‘But that would be seeing, not believing.’
+
+‘So it would,’ she answered, ‘and he said himself, “Blessed are they
+that have not seen, and yet have believed.” We must trust in Him
+without seeing Him.’
+
+But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all their possessions
+were disappearing one after another. Sam was a long while in fully
+recovering his strength; and when he was fit to go back to the yard
+they were pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so happy
+in former days. Their simple faith in the Saviour gave them a peace
+different from anything they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had
+now no secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind, grew
+frank and open with his wife. They pinched and denied themselves to
+get out of debt; and when the next winter came they were again in the
+comfortable circumstances which had been theirs when Ann sold the
+valuable old waistcoat.
+
+‘Sam,’ said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day, ‘Johnny’s been
+putting threepence a week into the school club. He’s got as much as
+nine shillings in, and he’s to have twopence a shilling added to it if
+we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the nine shillings out if
+we like. Come home in time to go with us to the school to-night.’
+
+‘Ay, ay!’ said Sam, heartily, ‘I’ll go with Johnny to get his little
+fortune.’
+
+It was quite dark in the evening when the three started off for the
+school where the weekly pence were paid in. But as they locked their
+parlour-door and turned into the street, they saw a girl about Johnny’s
+age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her head, standing on the outer
+door-sill, shivering and crying, as she looked at the dismal night,
+with flakes of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her well;
+she was the little girl belonging to the tenant of the attic two floors
+above them. Ann had often given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny
+to take to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her into their
+parlour, because she was too dirty and ragged. Now, as the child stood
+crying and shivering on the door-step, her heart smote her for her want
+of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her gently.
+
+‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
+
+‘Father says I must go and beg,’ she answered, crying more bitterly,
+‘and I’m frightened, and it’s so bitter cold. But we must pay our rent,
+he says, or be turned out, and he doesn’t know where to go to, and is
+very ill, coughin’ ever so. We owe for three weeks now, that’s nine
+shillings, and I don’t know where I’m to beg for nine shillings.’
+
+‘There’s all the coppers I’ve got,’ said Sam putting three or four
+pence in her hand, and hurrying on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the
+girl pattered after them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
+did not speak again till they reached the school, but once or twice
+she looked back and saw the little ragged figure following them. There
+was no one in the school room except themselves and the gentleman who
+was ready to receive their payment and give them the ticket for buying
+clothes to the value of ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could
+write out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin, care-worn
+little face peering in through the window.
+
+‘Oh, Sam,’ she cried, ‘we don’t want it so badly after all, and I think
+if it belonged to Him, Jesus Christ, he would give it to the poor man
+up in the attic to pay his rent with. Don’t you think he would?’
+
+‘But it’s Johnny’s little fortune,’ said Sam, ‘and we should lose one
+and sixpence if we took it out for that.’
+
+‘Johnny ’ud be glad to give it to poor little Bell?’ asked Ann, with
+her hand on the boy’s shoulder.
+
+‘Yes, mother, for little Bell,’ he said readily.
+
+‘Johnny’s clothes are warm, if they’re shabby,’ pursued Ann, ‘and
+there’s that poor little creature in rags, and barefoot. My heart aches
+for her, Sam. If it were our boy, and they’d nine shillings they didn’t
+want badly, what should we like them to do?’
+
+‘Well, Ann, I give up,’ he said; ‘after all, it’s your savings, not
+mine.’
+
+Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That man in the attic was
+very probably a drunken vagabond, and deserved to be turned out for not
+paying his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a year, and had
+been quiet enough, meddling with nobody, and not putting himself in
+anybody’s way. Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and then
+he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping figure, with a shabby
+old coat buttoned up to the throat, as if the man had no shirt to wear.
+Anyhow it was Ann’s business, and if any wife deserved to have her own
+way in a thing like this, it was his wife.
+
+Ann picked up the money, which was counted out to her, with a pleasant
+smile upon her face. It was snowing very fast when they opened the
+school-room door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
+pressed against the window and one foot drawn up out of the snow to
+keep it warmer. Ann called to her, and she ran quickly towards them.
+
+‘I prayed to God for the money this morning,’ she said, looking
+wistfully up into Ann’s smiling face, ‘but He couldn’t have heard me,
+for He never sent it.’
+
+‘He’s going to send it now,’ answered Ann.
+
+‘Will an angel come with it?’ she asked.
+
+‘Ay!’ answered Sam, stooping down and lifting the child in his arms,
+for he was quite strong again, and she was too thin and puny to be much
+weight. He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and if Ann
+was going to do them a good turn, why should he not do another?
+
+‘An angel with shining, white clothes on, and wings?’ said little Bell.
+
+‘No; she’s wearing an old bonnet and a faded shawl,’ answered Sam, ‘and
+her wings aren’t grown yet, I’m glad to say.’
+
+‘For shame, Sam!’ cried his wife; but she was glad to hear from his
+voice that he was agreeing heartily with her self-denial. It was not
+far back to their home, but instead of turning into their own pleasant
+room they all marched up two flights of stairs to the attic.
+
+It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted by a skylight, of
+which two or three of the panes were broken, and a few stray snowflakes
+were floating in, and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
+old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in it; and in one
+corner lay a hard mattress, on which they could see in the dim light
+the figure of a man, barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted
+up his head to speak to them a racking cough choked him, and it was a
+minute or two before he could utter a word.
+
+‘We’ve been your neighbours a long while,’ said Ann, gently, ‘and I’m
+ashamed I never came to see you before. We’ve brought little Bell home,
+for it’s a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up person,
+scarcely.’
+
+‘But the landlord says he’ll turn us out to-morrow,’ gasped the sick
+man.
+
+‘No! no!’ answered Ann; ‘that’s all right. We’ve got the money ready
+for him, and now we’ll make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
+and bring me a light, that’s a good fellow.’
+
+‘I’m not going to live long,’ said the stranger, ‘and I’m afraid of
+being turned out, but I can never pay you back again. There’s no more
+work in me, and my money’s done; I can’t pay you.’
+
+‘Never mind,’ she answered, ‘we’re only doing as we’d be done by, so
+don’t you worry about it. Here’s Sam coming with a candle; and now I’ll
+put your bed straight.’
+
+But when the light was brought in, and Ann looked down at the poor
+covering on the mattress, she uttered a little scream of amazement, and
+sank down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam himself stood as
+still as a stone, staring, as she did, at the clothes which lay across
+the bed. There was his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
+which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it possible that the
+nine five-pound notes were still safely hidden in the lining?
+
+‘That’s an old waistcoat of mine,’ he said, as soon as he could speak;
+‘I never thought to see it again.’
+
+‘I bought it soon after I came here,’ answered the attic tenant;
+‘an old-clothesman offered it for a shilling. It’s been a good warm
+waistcoat; but I’ve worn it for the last time.’
+
+‘I’ll give you a couple of blankets for it,’ said Sam, eagerly. ‘My
+wife sold it without asking me, and it was my wedding waistcoat, you
+see. I didn’t want to part with it.’
+
+‘Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,’ he answered; ‘you’ve done
+enough for me already.’
+
+‘No,’ said Ann, ‘I’ll bring the blankets.’
+
+She was trembling with excitement, but she would not leave the poor man
+until she had stopped up the broken panes, made the bed comfortable,
+and wrapped him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went down to
+their own room, and found Sam waiting for her before opening the seam
+in the lining of the waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed
+to unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of paper. Yes;
+they were all there, the nine five-pound notes he had never expected to
+touch again.
+
+‘Oh, Sam!’ she cried, with tears in her eyes, ‘do you think you will
+love them again?’
+
+For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at the notes, with
+a strange expression of fear upon his face. He compared the peace and
+happiness of the last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
+been to him. He thought of how he had begun to learn to think of God
+when he awoke in the morning, and when he was falling asleep at night.
+If he kept the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be right to
+throw away what God might intend them to keep as a provision against
+some time of need? Perhaps God saw the time was come when he might be
+trusted with money again.
+
+‘Ann,’ he said, ‘If I thought these notes would tempt me to serve
+mammon again, I’d throw them all on to the fire yonder. You take charge
+of them, my lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank, that
+was opened a few months ago. Thank God I lost them, and thank God I’ve
+found them again.’
+
+For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his wife nursed and tended the
+dying man in the attic as tenderly as if he had been their brother,
+teaching him what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick bed he
+might work the works of God, by believing on Jesus Christ, whom he hath
+sent. When he died, blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
+took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much upon her as the
+money laid by in the savings-bank. But she grew up like a daughter to
+them; and not long ago she became their daughter by marrying Johnny
+Franklin. The wedding took place a day or two before Christmas, the
+anniversary of the day when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune
+for little Bell.
+
+‘Oh, Sam!’ said his wife, as she thought of it, ‘how would it have been
+if we’d kept the nine shillings to buy clothes for Johnny?’
+
+‘We should have kept the nine shillings and lost the forty-five
+pounds,’ answered Sam. ‘It’s true, “He that hath pity upon the poor
+lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he pay him
+again.”’
+
+‘Yes, but it’s more than that,’ said Ann; ‘we’d a chance of doing
+something like Jesus Christ would have done in our place, and we did
+it. That was the best of all.’
+
+
+[Illustration: She saw the stranger produce a pistol.
+
+                                                       _See page 46._]
+
+
+
+
+A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
+
+
+If you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton who was the
+prettiest and best girl in the town, they would, one and all, have
+answered promptly, ‘Dr. Layard’s daughter.’ There was scarcely a
+poor man or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard’s surgery,
+where he gave advice gratis to all who could not really afford to pay
+for it. And there was scarcely one who did not know the look of Dr.
+Layard’s bright, comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
+tender smile on Kate Layard’s face, as she listened pityingly to their
+sad stories, and sent them away home with happier hearts and lighter
+spirits.
+
+If it had not been for her poor people, as she called them, Kate
+Layard’s life would have been utterly dull and idle. She had no
+household duties to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
+of all such matters whilst she was still a little girl, would not brook
+any interference with her rule; and preferred to have Kate sitting in
+the drawing-room, idly busy over fancy work, or practising music to
+which no one listened, and painting water-colour sketches, at which
+no one looked. There were three boys younger than herself, but they
+were all away, either at school or college; and the long days passed
+by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really worth the
+doing. But for her father’s poor patients, and he had a good many of
+them, she would have felt her life to be quite lost.
+
+It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November, with a thick
+yellow fog pressing close against the windows, which prevented her from
+going out, that she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
+Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements for a thorough
+cleaning down before Christmas; but she steadily refused Kate’s offers
+of help. Secretly Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding out
+that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper as herself; and she
+shrank from the idea of going into some little lonely house of her own,
+where she could have no more than one little maid to order about, and
+no scope at all for her own powers. She did not think of Kate having
+no scope for hers. If she had, it is quite possible that she would
+have laid down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave Kate her
+proper post.
+
+‘I wish, something would happen to me!’ sighed Kate, on that dull
+November morning. At the very moment a servant brought in a letter,
+just delivered by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
+handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a vision of her father’s
+surgery flashed across her mind, with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking
+young man in her father’s place, giving advice and prescription, and
+good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It was Philip Carey,
+her father’s assistant, who had left them some months ago. It seemed to
+Kate that she had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the letter
+was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A bright colour flushed up
+in Kate’s face. If there had been any one in the room, she would have
+carried it away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet know
+a single word in it. But she was quite alone, and no one could see the
+colour in her cheeks, or the ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and
+made the lines look dim.
+
+‘I used to fancy sometimes,’ said Philip Carey, ‘that I might win your
+love; but I never dared to be sure of it. I was too poor then, and my
+future was too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you. But
+now I am appointed the assistant physician at Lentford Hospital, I
+think your father would be satisfied with my prospects. I do not write
+to him but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can trust your
+whole happiness to me, write but the one word “Come,” and I will come
+over immediately after my official appointment on the 30th, and speak
+to Dr. Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand your silence.’
+
+Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands, gazing blissfully
+into the fire. All the world was changed, quite suddenly. The day was
+no longer dull and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true. Philip
+Carey was the very man to be a physician in the Lentford Hospital; he
+was so gentle and considerate with the poor, and so skilful as well.
+She recollected how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned after
+him when he went away; and what a pang it had often been to her, a pang
+yet a pleasure, to hear his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good
+she must be to make herself good enough for him! She must be the best
+doctor’s wife in all Lentford.
+
+With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word ‘Come’ as Philip had
+suggested; and then it occurred to her that she might catch the morning
+post, and he would receive her answer before night. She directed the
+envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it across the square;
+dropping it into the letter-box with her own hands, and looking after
+it, as one does sometimes when the letter is a very important one.
+
+Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt Brooks was in a rather
+testy temper, and it was not easy to begin such a confidential
+disclosure to her. Dr. Layard was out all day, and only came in late at
+night, worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the secret being
+a secret. Everybody would know quite soon enough; for her letter had
+reached her on the 28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th,
+for Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride to Ilverton as
+soon as his official appointment was confirmed.
+
+Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came. Towards the close of
+the day Kate grew more agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might
+come in at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate was fully
+prepared to see him arrive then. But he did not appear; and the dinner
+passed very nearly in silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr.
+Layard was tired with his day’s work.
+
+‘Do you know, Kate,’ he said suddenly, ‘young Carey is appointed
+assistant physician at Lentford Hospital? It’s a splendid opening for
+so young a man. But he’s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
+content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah! Katie, Katie, you
+should have set your cap at him when he was here; you’ll never have
+such a chance again.’
+
+The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile played about her lips,
+ready to break into a happy laugh. If Philip would but come in now!
+
+‘Don’t put such notions into Kate’s head,’ said Aunt Brooks, precisely;
+‘no well behaved young lady would think of setting her cap at any one.’
+
+It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour after another passed
+by, and still he did not come. She went to the window, and opened it
+impatiently. She began to wonder if he meant to come in by the last
+train, and stay all night. But what would Aunt Brooks say? And what
+a strange hour it would be to begin to talk to her father about such
+a subject! She fancied it would take a very long time to introduce
+it, and afterwards to discuss it. But at half-past eleven Kate was
+compelled to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the fever of her
+new happiness having calmed a little, she slept profoundly, and dreamed
+of no trouble.
+
+But again there followed a morning and evening of expectation, dogged
+hour after hour by a strengthening disappointment. Kate sat moping over
+the fire, as Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip’s
+absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been carefully smoothed
+out again, and she read it till she knew every word by heart. But the
+pride and gladness died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of
+hope deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out of her life,
+and left her in deeper darkness than before. She waited and trusted
+till she could wait and trust no longer; and then she gave herself up
+to the full sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.
+
+There was no one to notice the change except her father, who was too
+busy to bestow more than a passing thought or two to her melancholy
+face and fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah’s gourd, had sprung
+up in a night and perished in a night; and like him she was ready to
+exclaim, ‘It is better for me to die than to live.’
+
+Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered at all from her
+overwhelming sense of wretchedness and mortification. She was a pitiful
+and tender-hearted girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and she
+began to feel as if it was necessary for her own relief to make this
+miserable Christmas a time of pleasure and festivity to some of her
+poorer neighbours. If she could not see happiness with her own eyes,
+she would like to look at it through other people’s. It was impossible
+to remove the heaviness of her heart, but she might try to lighten
+others’. So one evening when she and her father were alone together,
+she approached the subject cautiously.
+
+‘Father,’ she said, ‘I want to make somebody in the world happier.’
+
+Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful. The burden that was
+oppressing her had made her feel that other people had heavy burdens
+to bear. She was learning that, in order to bear her own well, it was
+necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard was distressed by the
+mournfulness of his daughter’s tone.
+
+‘Make somebody happier!’ he repeated; ‘well, it is easy enough to do
+that.’
+
+‘How?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘Help them,’ answered Dr. Layard; ‘a little help is worth a deal of
+pity. Helping people is a good step towards making them and yourself
+happy.’
+
+‘That is what I want to do,’ said Kate, eagerly. ‘I want you to manage
+so that I can have some of your poor patients to tea here, in the large
+kitchen, on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit happier, I
+think. I don’t know that it would do much good, but they would enjoy
+it, wouldn’t they, father?’
+
+‘It would do them good, Kate,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘making people happy
+sometimes goes before making them good. In the hospital at times we
+make our patients as happy as they can be before the sharp operation;
+sometimes the sharp operation has to come first. We’ll try the merry
+Christmas for them this year, and then you must do what you can for
+them afterwards.’
+
+Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very gracious assent to
+Dr. Layard’s proposal, on condition that Kate took all the trouble of
+preparing for the guests, and entertaining them when they came. It made
+her busy enough for two or three days, and she tried to throw all her
+sad heart into it.
+
+‘Kate,’ said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, ‘we have forgotten one of
+our old favourites, who has not been here for months. You recollect old
+Mrs. Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins and tapes? Of
+all my poor patients, she ought to be present at your _soirée_.’
+
+Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party Kate’s _soirée_,
+and had taken an unusual interest in it. She was feeling more sorrowful
+than ever, this Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly gay.
+She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she found it difficult to get
+up a smile when her father spoke of the _soirée_. How different it
+would have been if Philip Carey had been true to her!
+
+‘Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?’ she asked, willing to escape
+from her sad thoughts for a little time.
+
+‘Easily,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘she lives in Wright’s Court, out of New
+Street, the last house but two on your left hand, I think. Anybody
+would tell you where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.’
+
+It was a dark night when Kate started out, without Bob, for she was not
+frightened; she was too miserable to be frightened. The passing relief
+she had felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas tea-party
+was spent, and the universal merriment only served to deepen her own
+loneliness and disappointment. The streets were full and noisy, but
+not disorderly. The church bells were ringing in anticipation of
+the coming day, and a general holiday tone was diffused through the
+crowd, though business was going on briskly. Groups of little children
+were gathering round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
+Christmas presents for themselves and each other from the magnificent
+display within, and laughing with pathetic mirth at their own daring
+dreams. Kate caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at her
+own vanished dream.
+
+Wright’s Court was not a good specimen of street architecture and
+paving. The houses were as low as they could be to boast of two
+stories, and the pavement was eccentric, making it necessary to take
+each step with great caution. An open gutter ran down the middle, and
+through the passage which formed the entrance; a passage four feet
+wide and twenty feet long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street,
+which shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her shadow
+bewilderingly before her. The court itself had no light but that which
+came through the uncurtained windows of the dwellings on each side,
+through which she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
+before she reached Mrs. Duffy’s door, where she stood a minute or two
+in the dark, looking through the small panes of the casement close
+beside it.
+
+It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough for the furniture
+it contained. There was an old box under the window, and one shelf
+against the wall, holding all Mrs. Duffy’s china and plate. The only
+chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs, were drawn up
+to the fireplace, in which a few coals were burning. Two old tin
+candlesticks and a flat-iron adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw,
+with a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared to
+decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had been stuck into
+each candlestick, as well as into every other pane of the little
+window. Mrs. Duffy herself was seated in the chair, apparently amusing
+herself with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was a black teapot
+and a cracked cup and saucer on the table, but there was no food upon
+it, and when she held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
+drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and looked placidly into
+the embers, shaking her head a little from time to time, but gently,
+as if more in remembrance of the past than in reproach of the present.
+She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no teeth, and her cheeks
+formed a little ball, like a withered rosy apple, between her hollow
+eyes and sunken mouth.
+
+‘The Lord love you, my dear,’ said Mrs. Duffy, when Kate went in, and
+delivered her message, ‘and the good doctor, too. It isn’t everybody as
+has such friends as me--on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body feels so
+lonesome wi’out friends. I don’t mind so much on working days, my dear,
+but one wants friends of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi’out
+friends; but one can’t love wi’out friends.’
+
+‘No, indeed!’ said Kate, with a profound sigh.
+
+‘And I’ve got such good friends!’ continued Mrs. Duffy, triumphantly;
+‘there’s one as gave me sixpence, and another threepence, and another
+twopence, only this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I’ve
+bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you know. You’d maybe
+like to see my Christmas joint like other folks, shouldn’t you, my
+dear?’
+
+‘I should very much,’ answered Kate.
+
+The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious possession, for it
+had been laid carefully between a plate and a basin, and these were
+well tied up in a ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
+cat. Kate’s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her eyelids smarted a
+little as if with coming tears, when she saw it. It was a morsel of
+coarse beef, which would not have covered the old woman’s hand, but
+which she regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.
+
+‘That cost sevenpence,’ she said, ‘and I bought two pennyworth of
+greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with it--me and a friend of mine,
+as is coming to dine with me. It’s a very poor lame girl as lives down
+the court; very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to eat
+my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant to me. The neighbour
+next door has promised to lend me a chair; we’re all so friendly one
+with another.’
+
+‘Then if you have a visitor you must bring her with you to tea,’
+said Kate, ‘and any children you have. Haven’t you got any sons or
+daughters? You’d enjoy yourself more with them there.’
+
+‘Bless your kind heart all the same,’ answered Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful
+face overcast for a moment; ‘I never had more than one bonny boy, and
+he went off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My Johnny he was.
+Sometimes I think as I shall never see him again. I was thinking of him
+when your knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty; and I
+was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt whether Johnny ’ud know his
+poor old mother again if he did come back.’
+
+‘How long is it since you heard from him?’ enquired Kate.
+
+‘I never heard from him at all,’ said Mrs. Duffy, in a matter-of-course
+tone; ‘he couldn’t write, and I couldn’t write. But he went to
+Australy, and he is in Australy now, if he hasn’t tumbled off. I can’t
+help thinking at times he must ha’ tumbled off, though the flies
+never do tumble off the ceiling. I’ve watched ’em for hours and hours
+together, thinking of my Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They
+have to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like them flies;
+but my Johnny wasn’t brought up to it, and I’m afeard for him at times.’
+
+‘Oh, no, he couldn’t tumble off,’ said Kate, laughing a little; ‘but
+are you sure you would know him yourself, Mrs. Duffy, after thirty
+years?’
+
+‘Can a mother forget her own boy?’ asked the old woman; ‘ay, ay; I
+should know my Johnny among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I’ll be
+glad to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many thanks to you for
+asking her. I’ve got to go out into the country to sing a carril or two
+at a farm-house, where they’re always very good to me; but that’ll be
+afore dinner; and we’ll come punctual to your house at five o’clock,
+me and my friend; and a merry Christmas and a happy New Year to every
+one of us, and you above all, my dear.’
+
+‘A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New Year it will be for me,’
+thought Kate; but she did not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting
+her down the court with her only candle, which guttered and wasted
+terribly in the night wind; and the last glance she had of the kindly,
+withered old face was lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of
+the dark passage.
+
+Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas sun was ready
+to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused up to the fact that if she was to
+sing a ‘carril’ a mile and a half away in the country, it was time to
+set out. Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin, scanty
+blanket she had been shivering under all night, were more attractive to
+her at seventy years of age than the long, lonely walk, through lanes
+deep down between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with mingled
+mud and ice. But she was of a brave and grateful heart, and after a
+short prayer for herself and everybody, uttered before quitting the
+feeble warmth of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
+the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard the shrill voices of
+children chanting some Christmas ditty; and she thought of Johnny when
+he was a boy, with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
+all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and singing in a voice
+which could not fail to rouse the most determined sleeper.
+
+‘He came home once with three shillings and twopence halfpenny, all
+in ha’pence,’ thought Mrs. Duffy, wiping away a tear from the sunken
+corner of her eye.
+
+It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but as soon as she had
+reached the porch, and lifting up her quavering voice, began, ‘God rest
+you, merry gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,’ the door was flung open
+quickly, and she was called in, and set before such a breakfast as she
+had not seen for years. Poor old Mrs. Duffy’s heart was very full, and
+before she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and tremulous
+voice: ‘I can’t think what’s come to folks this year. It’s like them
+blessed Christmases we shall have when everybody’s friends, when the
+lion is friends with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
+Here’s Dr. Layard’s daughter asked me to tea, and I’ve got a Christmas
+joint, and now there’s such a breakfast as I never see before, and me
+done nothing for it. I can’t think what’s come to folks; but it’s a
+blessed Christmas, it is.’
+
+‘You’ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,’ said the
+farmer’s wife, ‘and my husband’s father has given me a shilling for
+you.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after breakfast sang two
+or three carols, with as much zeal and energy as though they were sure
+to bring down many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
+after nine o’clock when she left the house; but there was the Christmas
+dinner to cook, and it was necessary to go home early for that. She
+bade them good-by, and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
+winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way back to the town.
+
+Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into the high road, when
+a man suddenly started up from behind the hedge, and laid his hand
+roughly on her shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
+ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at that early hour,
+to be half stupefied with drink. She looked into his coarse face, with
+a feeling of terror which was new to her.
+
+‘I want a shilling off you,’ he said, fiercely.
+
+‘A shilling!’ she cried, ‘where should a poor woman like me have a
+shilling from?’
+
+‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he demanded.
+
+Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on never having told
+a lie. She looked up and down the road, but there was not a creature
+in sight; and she glanced again hopelessly into the man’s savage and
+stupid face. What should she do? To part with the shilling just given
+to her would be a very great loss; and she knew it would only be spent
+in the nearest public-house. Should she be doing very wrong to deny
+having one? It was the first time for years that she had had a whole
+silver shilling about her; and any moment during that time she could
+have replied ‘No’ boldly and truthfully. Might she not say ‘No’ just
+this once?
+
+‘Haven’t you got a shilling?’ he repeated, shaking her shoulder roughly.
+
+‘Well,’ she said, feebly, ‘I haven’t had a shilling ever so long; but I
+have got one now. I’m a very poor old woman, my good young man. If I’d
+got a penny, I’d give it you, and welcome.’
+
+‘I must have your shilling,’ he said, doggedly.
+
+‘I can’t give it you, indeed,’ she answered; ‘there’s my rent, and
+coals, and other things; and I’m very poor. You’d only drink it.’
+
+She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw the stranger produce a
+pistol from under his jacket, and point it at her. There was a sudden
+flash before her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
+without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank on the high road.
+A few minutes later, Dr. Layard’s brougham was stopping at a toll-gate
+just outside the town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
+past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard was inside, with
+Kate, who was going out with him to see her godfather, a clergyman in
+the next parish. The doctor, having finished what he had to say to the
+gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said in passing.
+
+‘He says there’s a woman up the road, who’s been shot, sir,’ answered
+the servant, ‘and he says to me, “Look sharp after her, she’s an old
+woman, and very poor.”’
+
+‘Shot!’ exclaimed Dr. Layard; ‘drive on then, quickly. Katie, don’t be
+frightened. Gate, look after that fellow who has just gone through.’
+
+The last order was shouted through the window, as the carriage rolled
+rapidly away. In a few minutes they gained the spot where the old
+woman was lying as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
+staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her. Her old wrinkled
+face had lost all its apple-red, and her grey hair, scanty and short,
+had fallen down from under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
+exclaimed in one breath, ‘Mrs. Duffy!’
+
+Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a little shaken, and
+exceedingly troubled. She left the carriage, and sat down on the bank,
+supporting Mrs. Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
+examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and shoulder. His
+expression was very grave, and he stood for a few moments deliberating
+silently, with his eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
+and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.
+
+‘Is it dangerous?’ asked Kate, falteringly.
+
+‘Almost fatal,’ he answered; ‘within a touch of death. There’s one
+chance. I’m thinking of driving straight to Lentford Hospital. It’s a
+good level road all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
+town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift the old woman, and
+place her in an easy posture against you. Could you hold her pretty
+much as you are now for an hour or more? I’d do it myself; but you
+could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong enough?’
+
+‘I will be strong enough; I will do it,’ said Kate, lifting up her head
+with determination and endurance in every line of her face.
+
+It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage was a new one,
+handsomely lined and fitted up; but the servant’s soul ran more upon
+such subjects, and he began to protest against lifting the wounded
+and bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old creature, too,
+thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.
+
+‘Dolt! idiot! brute!’ ejaculated Dr. Layard, in high wrath; and Bob,
+who had only uttered half his protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.
+
+It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the carriage bowled rapidly
+along the smooth, straight old Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no
+sign of life, but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
+upon Kate’s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as she could, now and
+then clasping her warm fingers about her wrist, which was knotted and
+brown with age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to Kate’s
+touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with Bob, looked round from time
+to time, nodding to her, but with so grave a face that she felt the
+case was very serious. She thanked God fervently when the spires of
+Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of the morning chimes fell
+upon her ear. There were streams of people going to church, exchanging
+cheery salutations with one another; but many a person caught a glimpse
+of Kate’s pale and agitated face, and the grey head lying against her
+neck, and felt a shadow pass over their own Christmas gladness.
+
+Dr. Layard’s carriage drove into the courtyard of the hospital,
+and then Kate was quickly relieved of her burden. Mrs. Duffy was
+carried away, and Dr. Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious
+and troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower struck one
+quarter after another, and Bob drove up and down at a snail’s pace
+in dreary and monotonous turns. At length some one beckoned to him
+from the hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity which
+betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the last moment that it
+was Dr. Carey, not her father, who had summoned him; and she shrank
+back, breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage which
+concealed her best from him.
+
+‘Bob, your master says you must drive home,’ said Dr. Carey; ‘he will
+return by train in the afternoon.’
+
+‘And the old woman, sir?’ said Bob, ‘how’s she going on?’
+
+‘Very little hope,’ answered Philip Carey, whose face Kate could not
+see, but whose voice made every nerve thrill.
+
+‘Is it murder?’ asked Bob, who had known Dr. Carey as his master’s
+assistant, and stood on very little ceremony with him.
+
+‘I’m afraid so,’ he said; ‘how are they all at home, Bob? Miss Brooks
+and Miss Kate?’
+
+‘She’s in there,’ said Bob, pointing with his thumb to the carriage.
+Kate roused herself to lift up her head with dignity, sit erect upon
+her seat, and meet Dr. Carey’s salutation calmly. It was nearly four
+weeks since he had written to her, and she had replied, ‘Come.’ He
+looked at her with an amazed and confused expression, and took off his
+hat, but did not attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
+bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still bareheaded, and
+as if lost in thought, walked slowly back up the broad steps of the
+portico, and Kate cried most of the way home.
+
+‘I never saw anything like that,’ thought Bob; ‘and they used to be
+like brother and sister, almost.’
+
+It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned, and then he
+had to see the superintendent of police. The stranger who had passed
+through the toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
+far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he was taken. Kate’s
+Christmas party passed off more successfully because one of the invited
+guests had been almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
+wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the farmer’s wife came
+to tell of Mrs. Duffy’s morning visit, and her cheerful carols just
+before the villain met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
+over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas by going to
+bed with a very heavy heart.
+
+The next day the stranger was found and sworn to by Bob, though he
+flatly denied having been anywhere in the direction of the toll-bar.
+Neither Dr. Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
+passed on the farther side of the carriage while they were talking
+at the other window. He was an utter stranger in the neighbourhood,
+without friends, and he stated that he was on the tramp. A very old
+pistol was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy had been
+shot. The man was sent in safe custody to Lentford, to be brought face
+to face with the old woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
+to identify him and give her evidence against him.
+
+For twenty-four hours or more it continued very doubtful whether the
+poor old creature would ever rally. She had not spoken since she had
+been found, but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her hospital
+bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like the momentary glimmer of the
+sun on a cloudy day crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as
+if she were whispering. She knew when they were doing anything for her,
+for she tried to help herself, to raise her thin hand, or turn her grey
+head upon the pillow for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had known
+her in former days, spent as much time as he could beside her bed; and
+towards the close of the day, just before the night nurse was coming to
+take her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but very slowly
+and faintly, and he stooped over her to listen to what she said.
+
+‘Dr. Layard’s daughter! Dr. Layard’s daughter!’ she murmured.
+
+‘Would you like to see Dr. Layard’s daughter?’ asked Philip Carey, in
+his clearest and most pleasant tone.
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ whispered the old woman.
+
+‘To-morrow you shall,’ he said; ‘it is too late now. To-morrow.’
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ she assented, cheerfully.
+
+‘You will be better to-morrow,’ he suggested.
+
+‘No, no,’ murmured the old woman. ‘He shot me dead because I wouldn’t
+give him my shilling. He robbed me.’
+
+‘There’s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue sugar-paper in your
+pocket,’ said Dr. Carey. A sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor
+drawn face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.
+
+She was certainly somewhat better in the morning, and watching the
+people who were about her; her mind was clear, and she evidently knew
+her circumstances, where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
+noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy’s sunken blue eyes
+brightened, yet filled with tears, as she looked up into their faces
+bending pityingly above her.
+
+‘Well, old friend,’ said Dr. Layard, heartily, ‘you are better already.
+We are going to pull you through, you’ll see, Carey and me. We know
+what a tough old lady you are. Carey used to play you some tricks in
+the old times, and now he’ll make it up to you by pulling you through.
+Won’t you, Carey?’
+
+Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now she sat down, feeling
+weak and tremulous, on a chair at Mrs. Duffy’s head, keeping her eyes
+fixed upon the old woman’s face. Dr. Carey’s voice sounded oddly in her
+ears, as if he was speaking in very loud and constrained tones.
+
+‘I am going to do my best,’ he said, ‘but you must keep yourself quite
+still now, Mrs. Duffy, and get up your strength to tell the magistrate
+your story. You are a brave old woman, and won’t be afraid; and I’ll
+tell them you never told a lie in your life.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had not spoken yet, but she
+stretched out her hand, and tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey
+seemed to understand her meaning perfectly.
+
+‘You want Dr. Layard’s daughter to sit where you can see her?’ he said.
+‘You want her to stay with you?’
+
+‘Ay, ay,’ she answered. ‘God bless her!’
+
+It was Philip Carey who moved Kate’s chair, and placed it in a
+convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy to see her. She glanced at him
+once, but his eyes were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
+one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he and her father
+went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling now and then, closed her eyes
+and seemed to fall into a doze.
+
+It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward was a small one, containing
+only four beds, and no other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and
+had all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine was falling
+through the farthest window upon the bare white walls. Her mind was
+strangely divided between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
+was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken so kindly, even
+affectionately, to this poor, friendless old woman, but he had not
+spoken a word to her. How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel
+towards her? What reason or motive could possibly have made him change
+his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably, and plunge her into so much
+wretchedness and perplexity? She could not bear to meet him, yet she
+would have to bear it, for her father was so fond of him. How proud and
+happy her father would have been in him as his son in-law! It was too
+hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even have the misery some day
+of seeing his wife, the girl who had supplanted her, and made her life
+a blank. For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her ever
+to love another man. No one else could be to her what Philip Carey had
+been.
+
+The hour passed away, and there were several quiet signs of excitement.
+Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey came in, felt the old woman’s pulse, and gave
+her a cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she had better
+remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held her hand closely, and wished
+her to stay. Three or four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about
+the bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her story, which
+was written down, word for word, from her lips. She had not much to
+say, and it was soon over.
+
+‘Could you identify the individual?’ inquired the magistrate’s clerk.
+
+‘Should you know the man again?’ asked Dr. Carey, who was standing
+close to Kate, and near old Mrs. Duffy.
+
+‘Ay, to be sure,’ she answered, with more energy than she had displayed
+before.
+
+‘He has been taken;’ said Dr. Layard; ‘that is, a man has been taken
+up, and we think he is the man. You must see him yourself.’
+
+The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate’s hand tightly. It might have
+been Dr. Carey’s hand, for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
+answered to it.
+
+‘Come, come,’ he said, encouragingly, ‘you never used to be a coward;
+and you have only to open your eyes, and look at him. You have plenty
+of friends about you, you know.’
+
+‘He’s a dreadful man,’ she said, in a whisper, ‘but let him come.’
+
+Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as she listened to
+the regular tramp of the policeman, and the shambling tread of the
+murderer, coming down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
+closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful detective
+gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back of Kate’s chair, so close
+to her it almost touched her shoulder, and one of her brown curls
+fell upon it. The footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and
+stopped there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened glance.
+The murderer was a middle-aged man, with a full, heavy, red face, and
+light hair just turning grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole;
+he might have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for the
+drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was looking down at the
+wounded old woman with an air half sorrowful and half ashamed; but
+a little sullen also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
+policeman at his right hand was the only sign to mark him out as a
+criminal; and he seemed as much on the alert as if he expected him
+to make a second murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For a
+minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs. Duffy’s eyelids were
+closed, and her lips moved as if in prayer. She looked up at last; and
+her dim blue eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child who
+wakes frightened, changed like those of a child, when it sees that the
+face bending over it is a familiar face.
+
+‘Why,’ she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad, ‘it’s my boy! It’s
+my Johnny!’
+
+Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion, and she was about
+to raise herself up to stretch out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was
+quick enough to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at Kate’s
+feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the old woman. Every one
+else stood motionless and thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir
+hand or foot.
+
+‘That’s my son as went to Australy,’ continued Mrs. Duffy; ‘please
+let him come and kiss me. Don’t you know your poor old mother again,
+Johnny?’
+
+‘Oh, mother! mother!’ exclaimed the man, striking his hard hands
+together, ‘that’s my mother sir, as I came back to, and was looking
+for. I hadn’t seen her these thirty years, and she’s nothing like the
+woman she was. You’ll let me go and kiss her, maybe?’
+
+He had spoken to the policeman next to him, and his official eye was
+softened; but the magistrates were there, and the indulgence was not
+his to grant.
+
+‘Is this the person who attempted first to rob and then to murder you?’
+asked the magistrate’s clerk.
+
+‘Oh, dear no! it’s my boy,’ said the old woman; ‘he’d never shoot
+at his mother, bless you! It was quite a different man, not him; a
+dreadful man. That’s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers. He’d
+never lift up his hand agen me; please let him go.’
+
+There was no question in Mrs. Duffy’s mind as to whether she was
+telling the truth or not. Her gladness was so great that her mind
+utterly refused the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
+could have thought of robbing and murdering her. If he had been brought
+before her red-handed with her blood, she would still have believed
+herself mistaken. It was some ruffian and monster who had shot her, not
+her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot eyes were filled with tears,
+and his voice, as he began to speak, was choked and husky.
+
+‘Sir,’ he said, addressing no one in particular, ‘she’s not like the
+same woman, but she’s my mother. She had brown hair, and was very
+strong. I never thought of her being like that. I wish I’d kept free
+from drink. Nobody knows what drink’ll bring him to. She’s my mother;
+and I came back to work for her, if she were still alive. I’ll never
+taste a drop again as long’s I live.’
+
+‘Hush, hush!’ said Dr. Layard, coming behind him, and tapping him on
+the shoulder; ‘hold your tongue, my good fellow. You’ll make your
+mother worse again if you talk. There’s a good chance for her if she’s
+kept quiet.’
+
+The magistrates and their clerk walked away to the end of the ward, and
+held a short consultation there. There was not much doubt that this man
+was the right man; but there was no one to bring home the crime to him,
+except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard’s servant, swore positively that he
+was the man who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered; but
+the woman herself denied that it was he who had attacked her. To be
+sure there was more than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she
+persisted in it, what was to be done?
+
+‘You must remember you are upon your oath,’ said the elder magistrate,
+‘and probably upon your deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and
+tell me if he is not the man who shot at you.’
+
+Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling more and more, until her
+pale, shrunken face grew radiant with happiness.
+
+‘Why, it couldn’t be him,’ she said, ‘how could it? Ay, ay; I could
+swear it were never him; my Johnny. Please let him stay aside of me for
+a bit. The police may stop for him if you like; but he’d never do it.’
+
+‘Carey and I will be bail for him, if it’s necessary,’ said Dr.
+Layard, ‘only let the poor fellow shake hands with his mother. There,
+let him go.’
+
+The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman’s grasp, and
+sunk down on his knees at his mother’s feet, hiding his face in the
+bed-clothes, and sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time his
+mother’s eyes were shining upon him, and her arms, still kept firmly
+down by Dr. Carey, were trembling to touch him.
+
+The magistrates and their retinue went their way, leaving Mrs. Duffy
+with her son, while Kate and Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof
+from them, and from each other. The man crept closer and closer to his
+mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon her hand. There was a
+deep silence in the ward. Outside in the corridor, through the half
+open door, could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final orders.
+
+‘Mother,’ sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and faltering voice, ‘can
+you forgive me?’
+
+‘Why! there’s nothing to forgive, Johnny,’ she said, ‘and I’m so happy,
+I’d forgive everybody. I’d forgive the raskill as shot me. I have
+forgive him already, Johnny.’
+
+‘I want you to get well, mother,’ he said, with desperate earnestness,
+‘and I’ll make it all up to you. I’m come back to work for you, and
+indeed, I’ll work. Will you forgive me, mother?’
+
+‘Forgive you, Johnny!’ she murmured, ‘it’s a easy thing to forgive a
+body when you love a body.’
+
+The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable, from the old
+woman’s white lips, and Kate’s heart sank like lead. The withered face
+had grown paler, and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
+blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and Philip Carey turned
+quickly towards her.
+
+‘Is she going to die, Philip?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘She is very faint,’ he replied, ‘She has been too much excited, but
+she may rally yet. Go and send me a nurse, and do not return yourself.’
+
+Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears falling fast from her eyes.
+She was no longer grieving over her own troubles, but for the hopeful,
+cheery, brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son again in such
+a manner, and at such a moment as this. She waited in the matron’s
+parlour until a message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was sleeping
+again, with her son watching and waiting beside her. Then she returned
+home with her father.
+
+‘I’ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy’s the man,’ shouted Dr. Layard
+to her, above the noise of the train; ‘but the thing cannot be brought
+home to him. The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is
+labouring under a delusion. She no more believes that her son was the
+man who shot at her than I believe that you did it. I question whether
+she would believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he must
+not do. I’ve told him so. I said, “Duffy, I feel pretty sure you are
+the villain that did it, and if she dies I’ll do my best to prove it.
+But never you tell your mother it was yourself; it would go far to
+break her heart.” And he said, “I’ll never speak a word about it, one
+way or the other, sir.” Oh! Duffy did it!’
+
+‘Do you think she will die?’ asked Kate.
+
+‘Carey will do his best for her,’ said Dr. Layard; ‘I never saw such
+a change in a young fellow as there is in Carey. He is as dull as a
+beetle; just when he has got all he has been striving for, too! I don’t
+understand it.’
+
+Kate believed she understood it, but she kept silence. It was not
+likely he could feel happy and at ease in her presence or her father’s
+if he had a spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good deal of
+feeling. She had caught his eye once during the strange interview round
+Mrs. Duffy’s bed, and they had looked at one another with a sympathy
+which had seemed at the moment the most natural thing in the world.
+She had called him Philip, too! How her cheeks burned at the very
+recollection. She wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity
+of manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten herself, and
+it had been a happier moment than she had felt for these four weeks
+past. Perhaps utter forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.
+
+The next morning Kate was once more sitting alone before the fire in
+the breakfast-room, with nothing particular to do, until it was time
+to start for Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a large
+official-looking cover, with the words ‘Dead Letter Office’ printed
+upon it, and addressed ‘Miss Kate Layard, Ilverton.’ It was the first
+time in her life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
+packet. She opened it with some trepidation, and drew from it her own
+brief note to Philip Carey, written four weeks before. The envelope
+bore several postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
+after another--Liverpool, then Manchester, then London--but it was
+several minutes before she discovered how it had all happened. Her own
+handwriting lay before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
+she had directed her letter to ‘Dr. Carey, Everton Square, Liverpool.’
+
+How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead of Lentford she could
+never understand. It was true Philip had gone to Liverpool after
+leaving Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
+mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through as miserable a time as
+herself. He must have come to the conclusion that she did not care for
+him, and that she had not even the grace to thank him for the love he
+had bestowed upon her in vain. What could he have thought of her? It
+must have been a pain to him. She would make it up to him in some way.
+
+Kate’s brain was in a whirl all the way to Lentford. She walked up
+the broad steps of the hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
+porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly at her; and the
+students, hurrying along the broad corridors, took off their hats to
+Dr. Layard’s pretty daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
+a good-sized room, with benches round and across it, upon which were
+seated rows of poor patients, waiting humbly for their turn to go in
+and see the doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an inch or
+two, and Kate saw Philip Carey’s face, grave and care-worn, listening
+to a poor woman who was just going away by another entrance. She laid
+her hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in, and passed on
+into the room instead. ‘Philip,’ she said, her face flushing at his
+look of amazement, ‘I am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
+miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.’
+
+‘Wrote what?’ he asked, clasping the hand with which she offered him
+the misdirected letter, and holding both closely.
+
+‘I only wrote “Come,”’ stammered Kate, the tears starting into her
+eyes, ‘and I thought--oh, I don’t know what I thought! I directed it
+to Liverpool instead of Lentford, and it’s been wandering about ever
+since. Do you understand?’
+
+‘Do you mean you will be my wife?’ he asked.
+
+‘Yes,’ she answered.
+
+They had only three minutes to themselves. Three minutes was the time
+allotted for each case, and as it expired the door was opened again
+an inch or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next patient.
+Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and dismissed her with a glance
+which set her heart beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
+flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs. Duffy was lying as if
+she trod on air. The old woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her
+eyes calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red beginning
+to show itself upon her cheek. The good chance for her recovery was a
+still better one this morning.
+
+‘He’s coming back again this morning,’ she whispered in Kate’s ear;
+‘they let him stay beside me all yesterday, and he’s coming back again
+to-day. It’s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one like
+it. I hope they’ll never catch that poor raskill as shot me, I do. It
+’ud spoil my Christmas and Johnny’s if they did. Has it been a happy
+Christmas for you, my dear?’
+
+‘Very happy,’ answered Kate, with a bright smile, as the present joy
+blotted out the remembrance of the past sorrow.
+
+‘That’s right, my dear!’ murmured Mrs. Duffy, ‘I don’t know as ever I
+knew such a Christmas.’
+
+There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made his appearance at Dr.
+Layard’s that evening, and delighted him beyond measure by asking him
+for Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three years longer in
+undisturbed happiness, and in a degree of comfort to which she had been
+unaccustomed throughout her life. For her son, who had not prospered
+much in Australia, worked industriously and steadily to maintain her at
+home, and devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was not till
+after her death, when Kate Carey was standing beside her coffin looking
+down at the placid face and closed eyes of the old woman, that he told
+the story of his return home.
+
+‘I’d worked my passage across, ma’am,’ he said, the tears rolling down
+his cheeks, ‘and I’d landed in Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with
+as much as five pound in my pocket, all I’d saved in Australy; and
+there were a lot set on me, and took me to a public, and I suppose
+I drank all my wits away. I reached Ilverton by the last train on
+Christmas Eve, but I didn’t know as mother were gone to live in the
+town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a bench at the railway
+station. I hadn’t a penny left, when I set out to seek mother; and I
+were wandering about very miserable, when I saw a decent old woman
+coming along all alone. I only thought I’d frighten a shilling out of
+her. I never meant no harm. The pistol were an old pistol I’d had in
+the bush; and I didn’t recollect it was loaded, and it went bursting
+off, all in an instant of time. That quite brought me to, and I were
+running away to find somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming. I
+seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I found out it were my own
+poor old mother, which I did face to face with her in the hospital, I
+felt as I should die. She never knew as it were me, never. She used to
+talk about him, and say, “I forgave him, Johnny, and I hope God has
+forgave him too, whoever he is.” I shall never see another woman like
+my poor old mother.’
+
+
+  LONDON: PRINTED BY
+  SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
+  AND PARLIAMENT STREET
+
+
+
+
+WORKS BY HESBA STRETTON,
+
+AUTHOR OF ‘JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER.’
+
+
+  =I. CASSY.= Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching
+    kind, and the narrative, while free and graceful, is really of the
+    most compressed and masterly character.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another
+    treat, as real to grown-up people as to children.’--_Church Herald._
+
+
+  =II. THE KING’S SERVANTS.= With Eight Illustrations. Thirtieth
+  Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+  Part I. Faithful in Little.
+  Part II. Unfaithful.
+  Part III. Faithful in Much.
+
+    ‘The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly
+    told, and the religious purpose constantly kept in view.’
+    --_Watchman._
+
+    ‘An interesting story.’--_Church News._
+
+    ‘The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a
+    living power likely to carry it home to the hearts of all who read
+    it.’--_Freeman._
+
+
+  =III. LOST GIP.= Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+  crown 8vo. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.’--_Echo._
+
+    ‘One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.’--_Brighton
+    Gazette._
+
+
+  =IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.= Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo. 2_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This little book is intended to present the result of close
+  investigations made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous
+  narrative, suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for
+  those who have not the leisure or the books needed for threading
+  together the fragmentary and scattered incidents recorded in the four
+  Gospels.
+
+    ‘A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the
+    wonderful story with a forcible simplicity that will appeal to all
+    readers.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the
+    Sunday-school, and is also suitable for a Sunday-school
+    prize.’--_Church Review._
+
+    ‘The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.’--_Rock._
+
+    ‘It is invaluable.’--_Sunday-School Quarterly Journal._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+A LIST OF
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO.’S
+
+BOOKS SUITABLE FOR
+
+CHILDREN’S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.
+
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
+comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History, Education,
+Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis on application._
+
+
+  =SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES=, for Home Reading and Cottage
+  Meetings. By Mrs. G. S. REANEY.
+
+  CONTAINING:--
+
+  ‘Little Meggie’s Home,’
+  ‘Aggie’s Christmas,’
+  ‘Sermon in Baby’s Shoes,’
+  ‘Lina.’
+
+  Small square, uniform with ‘Lost Gip,’ &c. Three Illustrations. Price
+  1_s_. 6_d._
+
+
+  =DADDIE’S PET.= By Mrs. ELLEN ROSS (‘Nelsie Brook’). A Sketch from
+  Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with ‘Lost Gip.’ With Six
+  Illustrations. 1_s._
+
+    ‘We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of
+    writing.’--_Christian World._
+
+    ‘Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.’--_Brighton
+    Gazette._
+
+    ‘A very pretty tale.’--_John Bull._
+
+    ‘A pretty little story for children.’--_Scotsman._
+
+    ‘An exceedingly pretty little story.’--_Literary Churchman._
+
+
+  =LOCKED OUT=: A Tale of the Strike. By ELLEN BARLEE. With a
+  Frontispiece. 1_s._ 6_d._
+
+    ‘Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial
+    libraries, whether in country or in town.’--_Literary Churchman._
+
+    ‘Well written.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of BOOKS for
+JUVENILES._
+
+
+Works by the Author of ‘St. Olave’s,’ ‘When I was a Little Girl,’ &c.
+
+
+  =I. AUNT MARY’S BRAN PIE.= Illustrated.
+
+    ‘A bright story for children.’--_Globe._
+
+    ‘The stories are exceedingly good.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘Capital stories.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of
+    the season.’--_Literary World._
+
+
+  =II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.= Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.
+
+
+  =BRAVE MEN’S FOOTSTEPS.= A Book of Example and Anecdote for
+  Young People. By the Editor of ‘Men who have Risen.’ With Four
+  Illustrations by C. DOYLE. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+  The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
+  character, and their operation under different forms of effort.
+  Success is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.
+
+    ‘The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of
+    those who, in choosing a gift for a boy, would consult his moral
+    development as well as his temporary pleasure.’--_Daily Telegraph._
+
+    ‘A readable and instructive volume.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved
+    success.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.
+
+
+  =I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.= With Eleven Illustrations.
+  Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who
+    meddles always with a kindly disposition with other people’s
+    affairs, and helps them to do right. There are many shrewd lessons
+    to be picked up in this clever little story.’--_Public Opinion._
+
+    ‘Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so
+    well how to produce.’--_Leeds Mercury._
+
+    ‘Original, faithful, and humorous story.’--_Manchester Examiner._
+
+
+  =II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.= With Ten Illustrations by J. MAHONEY.
+  Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our
+    boys and girls.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘A very attractive story.’--_Public Opinion._
+
+    ‘A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest
+    interest.’--_Leeds Mercury._
+
+    ‘Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much
+    useful knowledge of natural history. The story is told in a
+    pleasant, chatty style.’--_Standard._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN=; with some Lessons in
+  Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By SARA COLERIDGE. A New Edition. Illustrated.
+
+    ‘Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little
+    folk through what has been called “the bitterness of
+    learning.”’--_Saturday Review._
+
+    ‘This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book
+    for children. It teaches us many a good moral, many a good
+    common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which are, for the most part,
+    very musical to the ear.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.= By Colonel E. P. DE L’HOSTE.
+  Translated from the French of Eugène Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an
+  Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.
+
+    ‘There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest
+    heroism; unpretentious religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a
+    household brought up in the fear of the Lord.’--_Illustrated London
+    News._
+
+    ‘It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious
+    liberty of a real man.’--_Graphic._
+
+    ‘It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little
+    book will not prove attractive.’--_London Quarterly._
+
+
+Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.
+
+    =I. ELSIE DINSMORE.= Crown 8vo.
+   =II. ELSIE’S GIRLHOOD.= Crown 8vo.
+  =III. ELSIE’S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.= Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is
+    portrayed in three different volumes. By the help, however, of the
+    illustrations, and by dips here and there, we can safely give a
+    favourable account.’--_Westminster Review._
+
+    ‘Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers.
+    In the above three pretty volumes her story is complete, and
+    it is one full of youthful experiences, winning a general
+    interest.’--_Athenæum._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =THE DESERTED SHIP.= A Real Story of the Atlantic. By CUPPLES HOWE,
+  Master Mariner. Illustrated by TOWNLEY GREEN. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and
+    with scarcely more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with
+    which the story deals, and will much interest boys who have a spice
+    of romance in their composition.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+    ‘It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended,
+    yet stirring events, which please a boy, more than any other
+    quality.’--_Edinburgh Daily Review._
+
+
+  =THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.= By JEAN INGELOW. A Second Series of
+  ‘Stories told to a Child.’ With Fifteen Illustrations. Square 24mo.
+
+    ‘We like all the contents of the “Little Wonder-Horn” very
+    much.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘We recommend it with confidence.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of
+    some of the best of our modern verse.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.= By GEORGE MACDONALD. With
+  Nine Illustrations by ARTHUR HUGHES. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story
+    through five times. Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept
+    that verdict upon his little work as final.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =PLUCKY FELLOWS.= A Book for Boys. By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. With Nine
+  Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘This is one of the very best “Books for Boys” which have been
+    issued this year.’--_Morning Advertiser._
+
+    ‘A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly,
+    straightforward manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the
+    children.’--_London Society._
+
+
+  =LITTLE MINNIE’S TROUBLES=: an Every-day Chronicle. By N. R.
+  D’ANVERS. Illustrated by W. H. HUGHES. Fcp. 8vo.
+
+
+  =THE AFRICAN CRUISER.= A Midshipman’s Adventures on the West Coast.
+  By S. W. SADLER, R.N., Author of ‘Marshall Vavasour.’ A Book for
+  Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will
+    find few pleasanter gift-books this season than “The African
+    Cruiser.”’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this,
+    written in a brisk style by a thorough sailor, is crammed full of
+    adventures.’--_Times._
+
+
+  =SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.= Crown 8vo. With Four
+  Illustrations.
+
+  CONTENTS:--Seeking his Fortune--Oluf and Stephanoff--What’s in a
+  Name?--Contrast--Onesta.
+
+    ‘These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise
+    detailed manner which we are sure young people like.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound
+    and generous moral.... We can answer for it that this volume will
+    find favour with those for whom it is written, and that the sisters
+    will like it quite as well as the brothers.’--_Athenæum._
+
+
+  =SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.= Illustrated with Nine Etchings.
+
+  CONTENTS:--
+
+  Mermaid.
+  Little Hans.
+  Dimple.
+  The Two Princes.
+  Specklesides.
+  Black Sneid.
+  Little Curly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_HENRY S. KING & CO.’S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING BOOKS FOR JUVENILES._
+
+
+  =MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN’S LAND.= By JAMES BONWICK.
+  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
+
+  This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as
+  to the leading incidents of the Bushranger’s career. The tale may
+  therefore be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.
+
+    ‘He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and
+    this he does in a highly creditable manner. His delineations of life
+    in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite, and his
+    representations of character are very marked.’--_Edinburgh Courant._
+
+
+  =THE TASMANIAN LILY.= By JAMES BONWICK. Crown 8vo. With Frontispiece.
+
+    ‘An interesting and useful work.’--_Hour._
+
+    ‘The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full
+    of those touches which give them a natural appearance.’--_Public
+    Opinion._
+
+
+Two Works by DAVID KER.
+
+
+  =I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.= A Tale of Central Asia. Crown 8vo.
+  With Illustrations.
+
+  In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero; genuine
+  information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of a mere
+  dry statistical report.
+
+    ‘Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate
+    the story, has a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of
+    courage and ability, from a state of slavery to one of independence.
+    Will prove attractive to boys.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Exciting boy’s story, well told and abounding in incidents.’
+    --_Hour._
+
+    ‘Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the
+    end.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘An attractive boy’s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes
+    round an imaginary hero.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.= Crown 8vo. Illustrated.
+
+                                                            [_Just out._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL FIELD CLUB.= A Book for Boys.
+  By G. C. DAVIES.
+
+
+  =FANTASTIC STORIES.= By RICHARD LEANDER. Translated from the German
+  by PAULINA B. GRANVILLE. With Eight full-page Illustrations by M. E.
+  FRASER-TYTLER. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal
+    with all manner of subjects.’--_Guardian._
+
+    ‘“Fantastic” is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of
+    these strange tales.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of
+    Paris.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘“The Knight who grew Rusty” is a delightful story, but “The
+    Queen who could not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could
+    not play on the Jew’s harp,” will probably be the children’s
+    favourite.’--_Daily News._
+
+
+  =THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.= By JACOB DE LIEFDE. Crown 8vo. With
+  Eleven Illustrations by TOWNLEY GREEN and others.
+
+    ‘A wholesome present for boys.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘A really good book.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘A really excellent book.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+  =HER TITLE OF HONOUR=: a Book for Girls. By HOLME LEE. New Edition.
+  Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.
+
+    ‘It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee’s, for they are
+    well known, and all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds
+    even our favourites, not perhaps as a story, for this is of the
+    simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story
+    is united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because,
+    also, it is a careful and beautiful piece of writing, and is full of
+    studies of refined and charming character.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as
+    valuable as it is rare.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.= By STEPHEN J. MACKENNA. Crown 8vo.
+  With Six Illustrations.
+
+    ‘Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military
+    adventure.... Boys will find them sufficiently exciting
+    reading.’--_Times._
+
+    ‘These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of
+    soldiering in various parts of the world.’--_Spectator._
+
+    ‘Mr. MacKenna’s former work, “Plucky Fellows,” is already a
+    general favourite, and those who read the stories of the Old
+    Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of materials at hand
+    for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them
+    well.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD TO WOMANHOOD.= By Mrs. G. S.
+  REANEY. With a Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A good tale--good in composition, good in style, good in
+    purpose.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good
+    and important one.’--_Rock._
+
+
+  =SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.= From Russian, Servian, Polish, and Bohemian
+  Sources. By JOHN T. NAAKE, of the British Museum. With Four
+  Illustrations. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original
+    national ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands
+    besides children. Yet children will eagerly open the pages, and not
+    willingly close them, of the pretty volume.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with
+    eleven Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight
+    Russian and thirteen Servian, in Mr. Naake’s modest but serviceable
+    collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents are, as a general
+    rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which
+    deserves cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got
+    up volume, we ought to mention that its contents fully come up to
+    the promise held out in its preface.’--_Academy._
+
+
+  =STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.= By HELEN ZIMMERN. With Six
+  Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.
+
+    ‘A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural,
+    and pleasantly quaint, as befits stories intended for the young.’
+    --_Daily Telegraph._
+
+    ‘A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate,
+    and which will remind its readers of many a legend, and many
+    an imaginary virtue attached to the gems they are so fond of
+    wearing.’--_Post._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  =THE BETTER SELF.= By J. HAIN FRISWELL. Essays for Home Life. Crown
+  8vo. 6_s._
+
+  CONTENTS:--
+
+  Beginning at Home
+  The Girls at Home
+  The Wife’s Mother
+  Pride in the Family
+  Discontent and Grumbling
+  Domestic Economy
+  Likes and Dislikes
+  On Keeping People Down
+  On Falling Out Peace
+
+    ‘A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as
+    sound and wholesome as it is noble and elevated.’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without
+    becoming a bore.’--_City Press._
+
+
+  =BY STILL WATERS.= By EDWARD GARRETT. A Story for Quiet Hours. Crown
+  8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6_s._
+
+    ‘We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has
+    pleased us so well as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed
+    us.’--_Nonconformist._
+
+    ‘Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to
+    meet. His stories are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and
+    there is about them a rare atmosphere of not unpleasing meditative
+    melancholy.’--_Echo._
+
+
+  =BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.= By MARY M. HOWARD, Author of
+  ‘Brampton Rectory.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+    ‘These tales possess considerable merit.’--_Court Journal._
+
+    ‘A neat and chatty little volume.’--_Hour._
+
+
+  =OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.= By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A., Author of
+  ‘Saturn and its Systems,’ ‘The Universe,’ ‘The Expanse of Heaven,’
+  &c. To which are added, ‘Essays on Astrology’ and ‘The Jewish
+  Sabbath.’ Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+
+  =THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.= A Series of Essays on the Wonders of the
+  Firmament. By RICHARD A. PROCTOR, B.A. With a Frontispiece. Second
+  Edition. Crown 8vo. 6_s._
+
+    ‘A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader’s mind up
+    “through nature’s work to nature’s God.”’--_Standard._
+
+    ‘Full of thought, readable, and popular.’--_Brighton Gazette._
+
+
+  =PHANTASMION.= A Fairy Romance. By SARA COLERIDGE. With an
+  Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord COLERIDGE, of Ottery S.
+  Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
+  long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience
+  and a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination,
+  melody of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity
+  of conception.
+
+    ‘The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a
+    time in a veritable region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of
+    unreality, and surrounded by supernatural beings.’--_Morning Post._
+
+    ‘This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice
+    the length, closing the book with a feeling of regret that the
+    repast was at an end.’--_Vanity Fair._
+
+    ‘A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.’--_Examiner._
+
+
+  =ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.= By HARRIETT PARR. Crown 8vo. 8_s._ 6_d._
+
+  The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
+  young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
+  the great struggle.
+
+    ‘Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and
+    if children are not interested in her book, many of their seniors
+    will be.’--_British Quarterly Review._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.
+
+
+  =LYRICS OF LOVE=, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected and arranged
+  by W. DAVENPORT ADAMS, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth extra, gilt edges, 3_s._
+  6_d._
+
+  The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in
+  these particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems.
+  (2) That each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and
+  (3) That it includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as
+  of the earliest writers.
+
+
+  =HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.= By the Rev. Canon R. H. BAYNES, Editor
+  of ‘Lyra Anglicana,’ &c. Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra,
+  3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
+  various members of Christ’s Church Militant here on earth.
+
+    ‘A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high
+    standard of excellence. The pieces are short, mostly original,
+    and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent spirit of
+    devotion.’--_Standard._
+
+
+  =POEMS.= By WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
+  bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author. 7_s._ 6_d._
+
+  A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
+  and they contain several of the Author’s Poems which have not appeared
+  in any previous Collection.
+
+    ‘Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained
+    the fame and position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer
+    than William Cullen Bryant.’--_Academy._
+
+
+  =ENGLISH SONNETS.= Collected and Arranged by JOHN DENNIS. Fcap. 8vo.
+  Elegantly bound. 3_s._ 6_d._
+
+  This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the
+  Elizabethan to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of
+  poetry, and not only for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in
+  order to pass away an idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words
+  of Marlowe, ‘infinite riches in a little room.’
+
+    ‘An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry
+    will consult again and again with delight. The notes are very
+    useful.... The volume is one for which English literature owes Mr.
+    Dennis the heartiest thanks.’--_Spectator._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+_W. C. BENNETT’S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS._
+
+
+A LIBRARY EDITION. Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6_s._
+
+  =BABY MAY=--HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People’s Edition, in Two Parts,
+  paper covers, 1_s._ each.
+
+    ‘One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every
+    mother ought to learn “Baby May” and “Baby’s Shoes” off by
+    heart.’--_Westminster Review._
+
+    ‘The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
+    much naïve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘Those readers who do not as yet know “Baby May” should make her
+    acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will
+    find her in good company.’--_Guardian._
+
+    ‘Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
+    his pages.’--_Athenæum._
+
+    ‘“Baby’s Shoes” is worthy to rank with “Baby May,” which, from its
+    completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one
+    of the most exquisite among Dr. Bennett’s productions.’--_Daily
+    Telegraph._
+
+    ‘Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
+    language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.’--_Weekly Dispatch._
+
+
+  =SONGS FOR SAILORS.= Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3_s._ 6_d._; paper
+  covers, 1_s._
+
+    ‘Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic’--_Morning Post._
+
+    ‘Very spirited.’--_Daily News._
+
+    ‘Really admirable.’--_Pall Mall Gazette._
+
+    ‘Right well done.’--_Illustrated London News._
+
+    ‘Sure of a wide popularity.’--_Morning Advertiser._
+
+    ‘Songs that sailors most enjoy.’--_Echo._
+
+    ‘Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.’--_Examiner._
+
+    ‘We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
+    Dibdin.’--_Graphic._
+
+
+HENRY S. KING & CO., London.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
+
+
+  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Emboldened text is surrounded by equals signs: =bold=.
+
+  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM
+FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
+be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
+United States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
+the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
+of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
+copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
+easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
+of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
+Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
+do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
+by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
+license, especially commercial redistribution.
+
+START: FULL LICENSE
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
+person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
+1.E.8.
+
+1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
+Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country other than the United States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
+on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+
+  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+  most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the
+  United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
+  you are located before using this eBook.
+
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
+other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
+Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+provided that:
+
+* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
+  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+  Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
+  works.
+
+* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+  receipt of the work.
+
+* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
+the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
+forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
+www.gutenberg.org
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
+Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
+to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
+and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
+widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
+state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+
+Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
+facility: www.gutenberg.org
+
+This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/65830-0.zip b/old/65830-0.zip
index 2bc5b39..2bc5b39 100644
--- a/65830-0.zip
+++ b/old/65830-0.zip
diff --git a/65830-h.zip b/old/65830-h.zip
index b95d1bb..b95d1bb 100644
--- a/65830-h.zip
+++ b/old/65830-h.zip
diff --git a/old/65830-h/65830-h.htm b/old/65830-h/65830-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..319c7f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/65830-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,3405 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      Two Christmas Stories, by Hesba Stretton&mdash;A Project Gutenberg eBook
+    </title>
+    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2 {
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .51em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .49em;
+}
+
+
+div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;}
+div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: 33.5%;
+    margin-right: 33.5%;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.tb   {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
+
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+
+
+
+.pagenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+    font-style: normal;
+    font-weight: normal;
+    font-variant: normal;
+}
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.bbox     {
+            margin: auto;
+            width: 600px;
+            height: 400px;
+            padding: 10px;
+            border: 2px solid;  }
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.right    {text-align: right;}
+
+.indent {padding-left: 0.75em;}
+.indent2 {padding-left: 0.35em;}
+
+.gap {padding-left: 7em;}
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+
+.caption  {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;}
+
+.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;}
+.xlarge {font-size: 150%;}
+
+.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;}
+.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;}
+.floatright {margin-left: 25em;}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    page-break-inside: avoid;
+    max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+p.drop-cap {
+ text-indent: -0.2em;
+}
+
+p.drop-cap:first-letter
+{
+ float: left;
+ margin: 0.15em 0.1em 0em 0em;
+ font-size: 250%;
+ line-height:0.55em;
+ text-indent: 0em;
+}
+@media handheld
+{
+ p.drop-cap {
+   text-indent: 0em;
+ }
+ p.drop-cap:first-letter
+ {
+   float: none;
+   margin: 0;
+   font-size: 100%;
+ }
+}
+
+
+.poetry-container  {text-align: center;}
+.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
+.poetry .verse  {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;}
+
+.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    color: black;
+     font-size:smaller;
+     padding:1em;
+     margin-bottom:5em;
+     margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;
+     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year, by Hesba Stretton</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+
+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Two Christmas Stories: Sam Franklin's Savings-Bank; A Miserable Christmas and a Happy New Year</p>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Hesba Stretton</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 12, 2021 [eBook #65830]</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div>
+
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="50%" alt="" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<h1>TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</h1>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p class="center"><b>By the Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</b></p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><i>Uniform with this Volume, gilt, cloth limp, each with<br />
+Frontispiece.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Price Sixpence each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+
+<div class="verse">FRIENDS TILL DEATH.</div>
+<div class="verse">THE WORTH OF A BABY and HOW APPLE-TREE COURT WAS WON. &nbsp; &nbsp;  1 vol.</div>
+<div class="verse">MICHEL LORIO&#8217;S CROSS.</div>
+<div class="verse">OLD TRANSOME.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> For a list of other Works by the same Author, see the<br />
+Catalogue at the end of this work.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="caption">&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 24.</i></span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<div class="titlepage">
+
+<p><span class="xxlarge">TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES</span><br />
+<br />
+<i>SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK</i><br />
+<br />
+<i>A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
+A HAPPY NEW YEAR</i></p>
+
+
+<p>BY<br />
+<br />
+<span class="xlarge">HESBA STRETTON</span><br />
+<br />
+AUTHOR OF<br />
+&#8216;LOST GIP&#8217; &#8216;CASSY&#8217; &#8216;JESSICA&#8217;S FIRST PRAYER&#8217; ETC.</p>
+
+<p>WITH TWO ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
+
+<p><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., LONDON</i><br />
+1876</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center">(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">SAM FRANKLIN&#8217;S SAVINGS-BANK.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image007.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IF any one had told Sam Franklin before he
+married that he would ever save money out of his
+wages, he would have laughed the idea to scorn; they
+had never been more than enough when he had only
+himself to keep, and when there was a wife into the
+bargain, what chance would there be for him to have
+a penny to put by? Yet, before he had been a husband
+many weeks, he had made the discovery that
+the wages which had only been enough for one were
+rather more than enough for two. There were no
+dinners at the cookshops to be paid for, no long
+evenings spent in the public-houses, no laundresses&#8217;
+bills to meet. He had a great deal more comfort
+with a somewhat smaller outlay.</p>
+
+<p>When Sam found half-a-crown in his pocket over
+and above the sum he allowed his wife for housekeeping
+and rent, he hardly knew what to do with it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>
+His own fireside was very comfortable, and he did
+not care to leave it for the tavern. He and his wife
+were living on the first-floor of a house in a decent,
+quiet street, mostly occupied by artisans like himself,
+though the houses were from three to four stories high,
+and had been built for richer people. They had a
+sitting-room, with a bedroom behind it, and the use
+of a back kitchen for cooking and washing; so the
+place was quite large enough for comfort. Ann
+Franklin had notions of cleanliness and smartness,
+which made her take great pride in herself and all her
+belongings. The parlour, as she liked it to be called,
+was kept bright and cheerful, and that man must have
+had a strange idea of comfort who preferred the noise
+and smoke of a public-house taproom.</p>
+
+<p>What, then, was Sam to do with his spare half-crown?
+It doubled itself into five shillings, and by-and-by
+a golden half-sovereign lay among the silver
+and copper he carried loose in his pocket. He was
+a man of few words&mdash;a close man, his comrades
+called him&mdash;and silent as the grave concerning his
+own affairs. Had he told one of them when he was
+about to be married? Not his best friend amongst
+them! Had he mentioned it as a piece of news
+interesting to himself that he had a son born? Never!
+He despised men who could not keep a still tongue in
+their heads, but must prate about all they did or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
+thought. Even with his wife he was sparing of words,
+though he liked her to tell him everything she did,
+and keep no secret from him. But then Ann was
+only a woman; a man should have more control over
+his tongue.</p>
+
+<p>So Sam Franklin did not say a word about his
+savings, though they seemed to grow like seed sown
+in good ground. Every week he gave his wife the
+sum they had first agreed upon, and she made the
+best of it cheerfully, letting him know how every
+penny was spent, and sometimes wondering to him
+how his comrades&#8217; wives managed to be so much
+smarter than she was. At first he had thoughts of
+buying her a new bonnet or shawl, but he scarcely
+liked to own that he had been keeping back the
+money from her. This difficulty became greater as
+the sum grew larger; and, besides that, the possession
+of it began to get a hold upon him. It gave to him
+a secret consciousness of wealth among his fellow-workmen,
+which was very pleasant for a time; but
+by-and-by this feeling passed away, and a strange,
+unaccountable dread of being poor took possession of
+him. He began to talk about bad times, and the
+high prices of provisions and clothing, and the expenses
+of a family, though his own consisted of his
+cheery, managing wife, and one boy only. But this
+change in Sam Franklin was so gradual, that neither<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
+himself nor his wife had any idea what was going on.
+He spent his evenings at home, and went nearly every
+Sunday to the place of worship which Ann and
+Johnny constantly attended. Ann was very proud
+of her tall, fine-looking husband, whose clothes she
+kept in such good order that he looked, in her eyes
+at least, quite a gentleman. No one had a word to
+say against him, though if it had been otherwise, Ann
+was too true a wife to let it be said in her presence.
+He was industrious and steady, and kind to her and
+the boy; and if she had to work hard to keep them
+both tidy and respectable, why, it was the fault of the
+bad times, not her husband&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p>When Sam Franklin had saved ten pounds, and
+had two Bank of England notes to take care of, his
+difficulty and perplexity had very much increased.
+There was no Post-office Savings-bank, and he had
+no faith in the old savings-banks, for he could remember
+how his poor old mother had lost every penny of
+her painful savings by the breaking of the one she
+had put her money into. He dare not tell Ann about
+it, after keeping such a secret so long. The money became
+a trouble to him, though perhaps it was his
+most cherished possession. Certainly he thought of it
+oftener than of Ann or Johnny, for wherever he hid it,
+it could not but be a source of anxiety to him. If he
+took it to the work-yard with him he was fearful of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
+losing it, whilst if he left it at home he was quite as
+much alarmed lest Ann should find it. How it would
+alter the face of things if she discovered that he was
+the owner of all that money, and had never told her!</p>
+
+<p>At length, when his savings mounted up to twenty
+pounds, a bright idea struck him one day. He stayed
+at home the next Sunday evening, and having found
+his old wedding waistcoat, which was lined with a
+good strong linen lining, he carefully unpicked a part
+of one of the seams large enough to take in a folded
+bank-note, and spread them as high as he could reach
+with his finger up and down the breast of it. He
+could not stitch it up again as neatly as it had been
+sewn before, but he was obliged to trust to Ann not
+noticing it, for it was a worn-out waistcoat and past
+her regard altogether: yet when she came home the
+first thing she saw was that he had it on with his coat
+buttoned across it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Good gracious, Sam!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;whatever made
+you put on that old thing?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s warmer than any I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; he answered,
+putting his hand up against the breast of it where the
+bank-notes lay safe and hidden.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s so old-fashioned,&#8217; she said, discontentedly;
+&#8216;but it doesn&#8217;t matter much if you won&#8217;t go out of
+doors in it. Men have no notion of things.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>&#8216;What was the text, Ann?&#8217; he inquired, simply
+to turn away her attention from the old waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh! it hadn&#8217;t anything to do with us,&#8217; she replied,
+more cheerfully; &#8216;it was, &#8216;The love of money is the
+root of all evil.&#8217; Nothing for us in that, you know,
+though the preacher did say we might love it as much
+from craving after it as having it. Well, I neither have
+it, nor crave it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Sam felt uncomfortable, and did not make any
+further remark. He told his wife he should always
+put on his old waistcoat when he came in from his
+work; and he continued to do so regularly for some
+time, then occasionally, until after awhile the waistcoat
+simply hung on a nail behind the bedroom door,
+only being taken down once a week by Ann, to have the
+dust brushed from it. Every now and then he had
+another note to add to those he had already secured;
+and he became so skilled in opening and sewing the
+seam, that there was no fear of Ann noticing any
+difference. Even yet he would wear it upon a rainy
+Sunday, feeling a deep satisfaction in his admirable
+scheme for concealing and taking care of his savings.</p>
+
+<p>Month after month, and year after year, the old
+waistcoat kept his secret faithfully. His eyes rested
+upon it first thing in the morning and last thing at
+night, hanging behind the door, as if it would hang
+there for ever. He grew more stingy then ever,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>
+grudging his wife her bits of blue and pink ribbon,
+with which she made herself smart, and altogether
+refused to send Johnny to a school where the fee was
+sixpence a week, instead of the threepence he had
+paid hitherto at a dame&#8217;s-school. He was longing to
+make up fifty pounds; he had already forty-five in
+his waistcoat, and how much more fifty pounds
+sounded than forty-five!</p>
+
+<p>He had between three and four pounds towards
+this very desirable end, when one night, upon his return
+from work, he went as usual into the back room
+to wash his hands and face, and glanced at once towards
+the familiar object behind the door. But it was
+not there! The place was bare, and the nail empty.
+The mere sight of an empty nail in that place filled
+him with terror; but no doubt Ann had laid it away
+in some drawer. His voice, as he called to her, was
+broken and tremulous.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Where have you put my old waistcoat?&#8217; he asked.
+He could hear her pouring the boiling water over the
+tea in the next room, and she did not answer before
+clicking down the lid of the teapot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, it was only harbouring the dust,&#8217; she answered,
+in a cheerful voice, &#8216;so I made a right good
+bargain, and sold it for ninepence to an old-clothesman.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The shock was so sudden that Sam staggered as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
+if he had received a heavy blow, and fell on the floor.
+He did not quite lose his senses, for he felt Ann
+trying to lift him up, and heard her asking what ailed
+him. In a minute or two he managed to get up and
+sit down on the foot of the bed, but still he found
+himself giddy and stunned.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Where is it?&#8217; he cried, bursting into tears and
+sobs, like a child; &#8216;where is it?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The old waistcoat?&#8217; she asked, thinking he was
+gone out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes!&#8217; he said. &#8216;There was nine five-pound notes
+in it; forty-five pounds in Bank of England notes!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>At first Ann thought his head had been hurt by
+his fall, and he was rambling; but as he kept on
+moaning over his loss, and confessing how he had
+concealed the notes from her, she began to believe
+him, and all the sooner when he pulled out the three
+sovereigns he had saved towards the tenth note and
+flung them on the floor in angry despair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And I don&#8217;t know the man from Adam!&#8217; cried
+Ann. &#8216;I never saw him before; and he&#8217;ll take very
+good care I never see him again. Oh, Sam! how
+could you? how could you keep it a secret all these
+years, when I never bought as much as a yard of
+ribbon or a collar on the sly? I can&#8217;t forgive it, or
+forget it either.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She felt it very hard that Sam should not have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
+trusted her. The loss of the money was hard, and
+she could not help thinking what a large sum it was,
+and what it might have done for Johnny. But the
+loss of faith in her husband was ten times worse.
+How could she ever believe in him again? or how
+could she ever be sure again that he really loved and
+trusted her?</p>
+
+<p>It was a very miserable evening. Sam bewailed
+his money so bitterly that Ann began to fancy he
+would rather have lost her or his child. She sat silent
+and indignant, whilst he, unlike himself, was almost
+raving with angry sorrow. She did not speak to him
+the next morning before he set off to the yard,
+though she knew he had lain awake all night like
+herself, and had not swallowed a morsel of breakfast.
+It was a cold, wintry day, with a drizzling mist filling
+the air. Sam was wet through before he reached his
+work, and there was no chance of drying his clothes.
+He was wet through when he came home, but there
+were no dry, warm things laid out for him. He
+might wait upon himself, thought Ann; it would be
+well for him to see the difference between a good wife
+and a bad one. He would not condescend to find a
+change of clothing for himself, and he sat shivering
+on the hearth all night, in spite of the warm, cheerful
+blaze of the bright fire.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the week was ended, Sam Franklin<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
+was compelled to knock off work. Severe rheumatic
+fever had set in, and the doctor said he must not
+expect to get back to the yard for three months or
+more. Perhaps it was the best thing that could have
+befallen him, for it brought back all the old warm
+love for him to his wife&#8217;s heart, which had been
+grieved and estranged by his closeness and want of
+trust in her. She nursed him tenderly, never saying
+a word to blame him now he could not get out of her
+way, as many wives would have done. Before his
+illness was half over she was forced to pawn all her
+own best clothing, as well as his, to buy the mere
+necessaries of life. Never had Sam Franklin thought
+his wife would have to go day after day to the pawn-shop;
+but she did it so cheerfully that half of the
+sting of it was taken away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Nancy,&#8217; he said, one morning, &#8216;all night long
+I&#8217;ve had a text ringing in my head, &#8216;You cannot
+serve God and mammon,&#8217; &#8216;You cannot serve God and
+mammon!&#8217; Why, I used to think I was doing God
+a service when I put on my Sunday clothes and went
+to church of a Sunday morning with you. As if
+He&#8217;d think that were serving Him! And then all the
+week I was worshipping that old waistcoat of mine
+hanging behind the door, as much as any poor
+heathen worships blocks of wood and stone. I
+begin to think it was God who put it in your heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
+to sell it to the old-clothesman. But how can I
+serve Him now, Nancy, my girl? I can&#8217;t do anything
+save lie in this bed and be a burden to you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Ann Franklin stooped down and kissed her husband,
+whispering, &#8216;I don&#8217;t mind a bit about you
+being a burden, as you call it;&#8217; and after that she
+opened a Bible and read these words: &#8216;Then said
+they unto him, What shall we do, that we may work
+the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto
+them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on Him
+whom he hath sent.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay! I see it,&#8217; he said, after a long pause, &#8216;that&#8217;s
+a work I can begin better here, perhaps, than in the
+yard at my work. I can work for God that way,
+lying here on my back as helpless as a baby. And
+now I come to think of it, Jesus Christ never served
+mammon anyway, and if I believe in Him I shall try
+to be like Him. It&#8217;s no use praying to God on Sundays
+and doing contrary all the week, wailing after
+money and such like.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; answered his wife, &#8216;I&#8217;ve not been believing
+in him as I ought, for I&#8217;ve been fretting after that old
+waistcoat ever so, thinking how useful the money
+would be now; but if you&#8217;ll help me I&#8217;ll help you,
+and we&#8217;ll try to believe in Him just the same as if we
+could see him coming into the room and talking
+to us.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>&#8216;But that would be seeing, not believing.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;So it would,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;and he said himself,
+&#8220;Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.&#8221;
+We must trust in Him without seeing Him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>But it was a hard trial to trust in God whilst all
+their possessions were disappearing one after another.
+Sam was a long while in fully recovering his strength;
+and when he was fit to go back to the yard they were
+pretty deeply in debt. Yet never had they been so
+happy in former days. Their simple faith in the
+Saviour gave them a peace different from anything
+they had ever felt before; and Sam, who had now no
+secret care or pleasure to brood over in his own mind,
+grew frank and open with his wife. They pinched
+and denied themselves to get out of debt; and when
+the next winter came they were again in the comfortable
+circumstances which had been theirs when Ann
+sold the valuable old waistcoat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sam,&#8217; said Ann, a day or two before Christmas-day,
+&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s been putting threepence a week into
+the school club. He&#8217;s got as much as nine shillings
+in, and he&#8217;s to have twopence a shilling added to it
+if we buy him clothes with it, but we can have the
+nine shillings out if we like. Come home in time to
+go with us to the school to-night.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay!&#8217; said Sam, heartily, &#8216;I&#8217;ll go with Johnny
+to get his little fortune.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>It was quite dark in the evening when the three
+started off for the school where the weekly pence
+were paid in. But as they locked their parlour-door
+and turned into the street, they saw a girl about
+Johnny&#8217;s age, with bare feet and no bonnet on her
+head, standing on the outer door-sill, shivering and
+crying, as she looked at the dismal night, with flakes
+of snow drifting lazily in the air. They all knew her
+well; she was the little girl belonging to the tenant
+of the attic two floors above them. Ann had often
+given fragments of bread and meat to Johnny to take
+to her, but she had always shrunk from inviting her
+into their parlour, because she was too dirty and
+ragged. Now, as the child stood crying and shivering
+on the door-step, her heart smote her for her
+want of kindness, and she stopped to speak to her
+gently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s the matter?&#8217; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Father says I must go and beg,&#8217; she answered,
+crying more bitterly, &#8216;and I&#8217;m frightened, and it&#8217;s so
+bitter cold. But we must pay our rent, he says, or
+be turned out, and he doesn&#8217;t know where to go to,
+and is very ill, coughin&#8217; ever so. We owe for three
+weeks now, that&#8217;s nine shillings, and I don&#8217;t know
+where I&#8217;m to beg for nine shillings.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s all the coppers I&#8217;ve got,&#8217; said Sam
+putting three or four pence in her hand, and hurrying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>
+on with Ann and Johnny, whilst the girl pattered after
+them, with her bare feet tingling in the snow. Ann
+did not speak again till they reached the school, but
+once or twice she looked back and saw the little
+ragged figure following them. There was no one in
+the school room except themselves and the gentleman
+who was ready to receive their payment and give
+them the ticket for buying clothes to the value of
+ten shillings and sixpence. But before he could write
+out the ticket Ann glanced round, and saw a thin,
+care-worn little face peering in through the window.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam,&#8217; she cried, &#8216;we don&#8217;t want it so badly
+after all, and I think if it belonged to Him, Jesus
+Christ, he would give it to the poor man up in the
+attic to pay his rent with. Don&#8217;t you think he
+would?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But it&#8217;s Johnny&#8217;s little fortune,&#8217; said Sam, &#8216;and we
+should lose one and sixpence if we took it out for that.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Johnny &#8217;ud be glad to give it to poor little
+Bell?&#8217; asked Ann, with her hand on the boy&#8217;s
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, mother, for little Bell,&#8217; he said readily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Johnny&#8217;s clothes are warm, if they&#8217;re shabby,&#8217;
+pursued Ann, &#8216;and there&#8217;s that poor little creature in
+rags, and barefoot. My heart aches for her, Sam.
+If it were our boy, and they&#8217;d nine shillings they
+didn&#8217;t want badly, what should we like them to do?&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>&#8216;Well, Ann, I give up,&#8217; he said; &#8216;after all, it&#8217;s your
+savings, not mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Still he was not quite satisfied about it. That
+man in the attic was very probably a drunken vagabond,
+and deserved to be turned out for not paying
+his rent. To be sure he had been a tenant nearly a
+year, and had been quiet enough, meddling with nobody,
+and not putting himself in anybody&#8217;s way.
+Sam had not seen him above two or three times, and
+then he had only just caught sight of a thin, stooping
+figure, with a shabby old coat buttoned up to the throat,
+as if the man had no shirt to wear. Anyhow it was
+Ann&#8217;s business, and if any wife deserved to have her
+own way in a thing like this, it was his wife.</p>
+
+<p>Ann picked up the money, which was counted out
+to her, with a pleasant smile upon her face. It was
+snowing very fast when they opened the school-room
+door; but there was little Bell still, with her face
+pressed against the window and one foot drawn up
+out of the snow to keep it warmer. Ann called to her,
+and she ran quickly towards them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I prayed to God for the money this morning,&#8217; she
+said, looking wistfully up into Ann&#8217;s smiling face, &#8216;but
+He couldn&#8217;t have heard me, for He never sent it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s going to send it now,&#8217; answered Ann.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will an angel come with it?&#8217; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay!&#8217; answered Sam, stooping down and lifting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
+the child in his arms, for he was quite strong again,
+and she was too thin and puny to be much weight.
+He did not like to see her bare feet on the snow, and
+if Ann was going to do them a good turn, why should
+he not do another?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An angel with shining, white clothes on, and
+wings?&#8217; said little Bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No; she&#8217;s wearing an old bonnet and a faded
+shawl,&#8217; answered Sam, &#8216;and her wings aren&#8217;t grown
+yet, I&#8217;m glad to say.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;For shame, Sam!&#8217; cried his wife; but she was
+glad to hear from his voice that he was agreeing
+heartily with her self-denial. It was not far back to
+their home, but instead of turning into their own
+pleasant room they all marched up two flights of
+stairs to the attic.</p>
+
+<p>It was a low room with a shelving roof, and lighted
+by a skylight, of which two or three of the panes were
+broken, and a few stray snowflakes were floating in,
+and hardly melting in the chilly air. There was an
+old rusty stove instead of a fireplace, but no fire in
+it; and in one corner lay a hard mattress, on which
+they could see in the dim light the figure of a man,
+barely covered with a few clothes. As he lifted up
+his head to speak to them a racking cough choked
+him, and it was a minute or two before he could utter
+a word.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>&#8216;We&#8217;ve been your neighbours a long while,&#8217; said
+Ann, gently, &#8216;and I&#8217;m ashamed I never came to see
+you before. We&#8217;ve brought little Bell home, for it&#8217;s
+a dreadful night out of doors, not fit for a grown-up
+person, scarcely.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;But the landlord says he&#8217;ll turn us out to-morrow,&#8217;
+gasped the sick man.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No! no!&#8217; answered Ann; &#8216;that&#8217;s all right.
+We&#8217;ve got the money ready for him, and now we&#8217;ll
+make you as comfortable as we can. Sam run down
+and bring me a light, that&#8217;s a good fellow.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m not going to live long,&#8217; said the stranger, &#8216;and
+I&#8217;m afraid of being turned out, but I can never pay
+you back again. There&#8217;s no more work in me, and
+my money&#8217;s done; I can&#8217;t pay you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Never mind,&#8217; she answered, &#8216;we&#8217;re only doing as
+we&#8217;d be done by, so don&#8217;t you worry about it. Here&#8217;s
+Sam coming with a candle; and now I&#8217;ll put your
+bed straight.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>But when the light was brought in, and Ann
+looked down at the poor covering on the mattress,
+she uttered a little scream of amazement, and sank
+down on a box beside the bed of the sick man. Sam
+himself stood as still as a stone, staring, as she did,
+at the clothes which lay across the bed. There was
+his old wedding waistcoat; he knew it by a patch
+which Ann had put into it very carefully. Was it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
+possible that the nine five-pound notes were still safely
+hidden in the lining?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s an old waistcoat of mine,&#8217; he said, as soon
+as he could speak; &#8216;I never thought to see it again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I bought it soon after I came here,&#8217; answered the
+attic tenant; &#8216;an old-clothesman offered it for a
+shilling. It&#8217;s been a good warm waistcoat; but I&#8217;ve
+worn it for the last time.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll give you a couple of blankets for it,&#8217; said Sam,
+eagerly. &#8216;My wife sold it without asking me, and it
+was my wedding waistcoat, you see. I didn&#8217;t want to
+part with it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Take it, and welcome, without any blankets,&#8217; he
+answered; &#8216;you&#8217;ve done enough for me already.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No,&#8217; said Ann, &#8216;I&#8217;ll bring the blankets.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She was trembling with excitement, but she would
+not leave the poor man until she had stopped up the
+broken panes, made the bed comfortable, and wrapped
+him well up in some warm blankets. Then she went
+down to their own room, and found Sam waiting for
+her before opening the seam in the lining of the
+waistcoat. Even his hand shook, but he managed to
+unpick a few stitches, and draw out a crumpled bit of
+paper. Yes; they were all there, the nine five-pound
+notes he had never expected to touch again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; she cried, with tears in her eyes, &#8216;do
+you think you will love them again?&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>For a few minutes he sat still, looking earnestly at
+the notes, with a strange expression of fear upon his
+face. He compared the peace and happiness of the
+last few months with the heavy burden his secret had
+been to him. He thought of how he had begun to
+learn to think of God when he awoke in the morning,
+and when he was falling asleep at night. If he kept
+the money, would it be the same? Yet would it be
+right to throw away what God might intend them to
+keep as a provision against some time of need? Perhaps
+God saw the time was come when he might be
+trusted with money again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ann,&#8217; he said, &#8216;If I thought these notes would
+tempt me to serve mammon again, I&#8217;d throw them all
+on to the fire yonder. You take charge of them, my
+lass, and put them into the Post-Office Savings-bank,
+that was opened a few months ago. Thank God I
+lost them, and thank God I&#8217;ve found them again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>For the next few weeks Sam Franklin and his
+wife nursed and tended the dying man in the attic as
+tenderly as if he had been their brother, teaching him
+what Sam had learned himself, that even on a sick
+bed he might work the works of God, by believing on
+Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent. When he died,
+blessing them for their brotherly love to him, they
+took charge of little Bell, and no doubt spent as much
+upon her as the money laid by in the savings-bank.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>
+But she grew up like a daughter to them; and not
+long ago she became their daughter by marrying
+Johnny Franklin. The wedding took place a day or
+two before Christmas, the anniversary of the day
+when Johnny readily gave up his small fortune for
+little Bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, Sam!&#8217; said his wife, as she thought of it,
+&#8216;how would it have been if we&#8217;d kept the nine shillings
+to buy clothes for Johnny?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We should have kept the nine shillings and lost
+the forty-five pounds,&#8217; answered Sam. &#8216;It&#8217;s true, &#8220;He
+that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord;
+and that which he hath given will he pay him
+again.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes, but it&#8217;s more than that,&#8217; said Ann; &#8216;we&#8217;d a
+chance of doing something like Jesus Christ would
+have done in our place, and we did it. That was the
+best of all.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image028.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+<p class="caption">She saw the stranger produce a pistol.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="floatright"><i>See page 46.</i></span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak">A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND<br />
+A HAPPY NEW YEAR.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image029.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IF you had asked any of the poor people of Ilverton
+who was the prettiest and best girl in the town,
+they would, one and all, have answered promptly, &#8216;Dr.
+Layard&#8217;s daughter.&#8217; There was scarcely a poor man
+or woman, who did not know the way to Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+surgery, where he gave advice gratis to all who could
+not really afford to pay for it. And there was scarcely
+one who did not know the look of Dr. Layard&#8217;s bright,
+comfortable, old-fashioned kitchen, and the pleasant,
+tender smile on Kate Layard&#8217;s face, as she listened
+pityingly to their sad stories, and sent them away
+home with happier hearts and lighter spirits.</p>
+
+<p>If it had not been for her poor people, as she
+called them, Kate Layard&#8217;s life would have been
+utterly dull and idle. She had no household duties<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
+to see after; her aunt, who had taken the management
+of all such matters whilst she was still a little
+girl, would not brook any interference with her rule;
+and preferred to have Kate sitting in the drawing-room,
+idly busy over fancy work, or practising music
+to which no one listened, and painting water-colour
+sketches, at which no one looked. There were three
+boys younger than herself, but they were all away,
+either at school or college; and the long days passed
+by listlessly, for want of something to do that was really
+worth the doing. But for her father&#8217;s poor patients,
+and he had a good many of them, she would have felt
+her life to be quite lost.</p>
+
+<p>It was on a dull, dark day, near the end of November,
+with a thick yellow fog pressing close against the
+windows, which prevented her from going out, that
+she felt particularly disconsolate and weary. Aunt
+Brooks was busy about the house, making arrangements
+for a thorough cleaning down before Christmas;
+but she steadily refused Kate&#8217;s offers of help. Secretly
+Aunt Brooks was fearful of Dr. Layard finding
+out that Kate would make quite as good a housekeeper
+as herself; and she shrank from the idea of
+going into some little lonely house of her own, where
+she could have no more than one little maid to order
+about, and no scope at all for her own powers. She
+did not think of Kate having no scope for hers. If<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
+she had, it is quite possible that she would have laid
+down her command, and heroically withdrawn to leave
+Kate her proper post.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I wish, something would happen to me!&#8217; sighed
+Kate, on that dull November morning. At the very
+moment a servant brought in a letter, just delivered
+by the postman. Kate was not quite sure of the
+handwriting; not quite sure. But all at once a
+vision of her father&#8217;s surgery flashed across her mind,
+with a frank, noble, pleasant-looking young man in
+her father&#8217;s place, giving advice and prescription, and
+good-tempered, cheery words to her poor people. It
+was Philip Carey, her father&#8217;s assistant, who had left
+them some months ago. It seemed to Kate that she
+had never been dull while he was there. Yes! the
+letter was from Philip Carey; it bore his name. A
+bright colour flushed up in Kate&#8217;s face. If there had
+been any one in the room, she would have carried it
+away to read it in solitude, although she did not yet
+know a single word in it. But she was quite alone,
+and no one could see the colour in her cheeks, or the
+ready tears that sprang into her eyes, and made the
+lines look dim.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I used to fancy sometimes,&#8217; said Philip Carey,
+&#8216;that I might win your love; but I never dared to be
+sure of it. I was too poor then, and my future was
+too uncertain, for me to say how dearly I loved you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
+But now I am appointed the assistant physician at
+Lentford Hospital, I think your father would be
+satisfied with my prospects. I do not write to him
+but to you. If there is any hope for me, if you can
+trust your whole happiness to me, write but the one
+word &#8220;Come,&#8221; and I will come over immediately after
+my official appointment on the 30th, and speak to Dr.
+Layard. If you do not write, I shall understand
+your silence.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate sat, with the letter crushed between her hands,
+gazing blissfully into the fire. All the world was
+changed, quite suddenly. The day was no longer dull
+and dreary. It seemed almost too good to be true.
+Philip Carey was the very man to be a physician in the
+Lentford Hospital; he was so gentle and considerate
+with the poor, and so skilful as well. She recollected
+how all her poor people had bewailed and mourned
+after him when he went away; and what a pang it
+had often been to her, a pang yet a pleasure, to hear
+his name so often on their lips. Oh! how good she
+must be to make herself good enough for him! She
+must be the best doctor&#8217;s wife in all Lentford.</p>
+
+<p>With very unsteady fingers she wrote the one word
+&#8216;Come&#8217; as Philip had suggested; and then it occurred
+to her that she might catch the morning post, and he
+would receive her answer before night. She directed
+the envelope in haste, and ran out herself with it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
+across the square; dropping it into the letter-box
+with her own hands, and looking after it, as one does
+sometimes when the letter is a very important one.</p>
+
+<p>Kate kept her precious secret to herself. Aunt
+Brooks was in a rather testy temper, and it was not
+easy to begin such a confidential disclosure to her. Dr.
+Layard was out all day, and only came in late at night,
+worn out and exhausted. Kate rather rejoiced in the
+secret being a secret. Everybody would know quite
+soon enough; for her letter had reached her on the
+28th, and Philip was sure to come over on the 30th, for
+Lentford was only ten miles away, and he could ride
+to Ilverton as soon as his official appointment was
+confirmed.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it seemed a long time before the 30th came.
+Towards the close of the day Kate grew more
+agitated in her secret gladness. Philip might come in
+at any hour; he knew they dined at six, and Kate
+was fully prepared to see him arrive then. But he
+did not appear; and the dinner passed very nearly in
+silence, for Kate was unable to talk, and Dr. Layard
+was tired with his day&#8217;s work.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you know, Kate,&#8217; he said suddenly, &#8216;young
+Carey is appointed assistant physician at Lentford
+Hospital? It&#8217;s a splendid opening for so young a man.
+But he&#8217;s a fine fellow is Carey; I shall be more than
+content if one of my boys turns out like him. Ah!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
+Katie, Katie, you should have set your cap at him
+when he was here; you&#8217;ll never have such a chance
+again.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The colour mounted to her forehead, and a smile
+played about her lips, ready to break into a happy
+laugh. If Philip would but come in now!</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Don&#8217;t put such notions into Kate&#8217;s head,&#8217; said
+Aunt Brooks, precisely; &#8216;no well behaved young lady
+would think of setting her cap at any one.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was a restless evening for Kate. One hour
+after another passed by, and still he did not come.
+She went to the window, and opened it impatiently.
+She began to wonder if he meant to come in by
+the last train, and stay all night. But what would
+Aunt Brooks say? And what a strange hour
+it would be to begin to talk to her father about
+such a subject! She fancied it would take a very
+long time to introduce it, and afterwards to discuss
+it. But at half-past eleven Kate was compelled
+to give up expecting him and go to bed, when the
+fever of her new happiness having calmed a little,
+she slept profoundly, and dreamed of no trouble.</p>
+
+<p>But again there followed a morning and evening
+of expectation, dogged hour after hour by a strengthening
+disappointment. Kate sat moping over the fire, as
+Aunt Brooks said, trying to find reasons for Philip&#8217;s
+absence and silence. The crumpled letter had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>
+carefully smoothed out again, and she read it till she
+knew every word by heart. But the pride and gladness
+died as her heart grew sick with the sickness of hope
+deferred. The brief sunshine at last faded quite out
+of her life, and left her in deeper darkness than before.
+She waited and trusted till she could wait and trust
+no longer; and then she gave herself up to the full
+sense of her bitter mortification and sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one to notice the change except
+her father, who was too busy to bestow more than
+a passing thought or two to her melancholy face and
+fading colour. Her happiness, like Jonah&#8217;s gourd,
+had sprung up in a night and perished in a night; and
+like him she was ready to exclaim, &#8216;It is better for me
+to die than to live.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Christmas was near at hand before Kate recovered
+at all from her overwhelming sense of wretchedness
+and mortification. She was a pitiful and tender-hearted
+girl, fond of giving pleasure to others; and
+she began to feel as if it was necessary for her own
+relief to make this miserable Christmas a time of
+pleasure and festivity to some of her poorer neighbours.
+If she could not see happiness with her own
+eyes, she would like to look at it through other
+people&#8217;s. It was impossible to remove the heaviness
+of her heart, but she might try to lighten others&#8217;. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
+one evening when she and her father were alone together,
+she approached the subject cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Father,&#8217; she said, &#8216;I want to make somebody in
+the world happier.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was unconsciously very sorrowful.
+The burden that was oppressing her had made her
+feel that other people had heavy burdens to bear.
+She was learning that, in order to bear her own well,
+it was necessary to share that of another. Dr. Layard
+was distressed by the mournfulness of his daughter&#8217;s
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Make somebody happier!&#8217; he repeated; &#8216;well, it
+is easy enough to do that.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;How?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Help them,&#8217; answered Dr. Layard; &#8216;a little
+help is worth a deal of pity. Helping people is
+a good step towards making them and yourself
+happy.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That is what I want to do,&#8217; said Kate, eagerly.
+&#8216;I want you to manage so that I can have some of
+your poor patients to tea here, in the large kitchen,
+on Christmas Day; it would make them a little bit
+happier, I think. I don&#8217;t know that it would do
+much good, but they would enjoy it, wouldn&#8217;t they,
+father?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It would do them good, Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
+&#8216;making people happy sometimes goes before making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
+them good. In the hospital at times we make
+our patients as happy as they can be before the
+sharp operation; sometimes the sharp operation has
+to come first. We&#8217;ll try the merry Christmas for
+them this year, and then you must do what you can
+for them afterwards.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Brooks, somewhat unexpectedly, gave a very
+gracious assent to Dr. Layard&#8217;s proposal, on condition
+that Kate took all the trouble of preparing for the
+guests, and entertaining them when they came. It
+made her busy enough for two or three days, and she
+tried to throw all her sad heart into it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Kate,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, on Christmas Eve, &#8216;we
+have forgotten one of our old favourites, who has
+not been here for months. You recollect old Mrs.
+Duffy, who used to go about with a basket of bobbins
+and tapes? Of all my poor patients, she ought to be
+present at your <i>soir&eacute;e</i>.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Layard persisted in calling the intended tea-party
+Kate&#8217;s <i>soir&eacute;e</i>, and had taken an unusual interest
+in it. She was feeling more sorrowful than ever, this
+Christmas Eve, when everybody seemed so absurdly
+gay. She was wearing her dowdiest dress; and she
+found it difficult to get up a smile when her father
+spoke of the <i>soir&eacute;e</i>. How different it would have been
+if Philip Carey had been true to her!</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Can I find Mrs. Duffy this evening?&#8217; she asked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
+willing to escape from her sad thoughts for a little
+time.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Easily,&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;she lives in Wright&#8217;s
+Court, out of New Street, the last house but two on
+your left hand, I think. Anybody would tell you
+where it is. If you are frightened, take Bob with you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was a dark night when Kate started out, without
+Bob, for she was not frightened; she was too miserable
+to be frightened. The passing relief she had
+felt in making her arrangements for her Christmas
+tea-party was spent, and the universal merriment only
+served to deepen her own loneliness and disappointment.
+The streets were full and noisy, but not disorderly.
+The church bells were ringing in anticipation
+of the coming day, and a general holiday tone was
+diffused through the crowd, though business was going
+on briskly. Groups of little children were gathering
+round the brilliant shop-windows, choosing impossible
+Christmas presents for themselves and each other from
+the magnificent display within, and laughing with
+pathetic mirth at their own daring dreams. Kate
+caught herself wondering if she should ever laugh at
+her own vanished dream.</p>
+
+<p>Wright&#8217;s Court was not a good specimen of street
+architecture and paving. The houses were as low as
+they could be to boast of two stories, and the pavement
+was eccentric, making it necessary to take each
+step with great caution. An open gutter ran down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
+the middle, and through the passage which formed the
+entrance; a passage four feet wide and twenty feet
+long, dimly lighted by one lamp in the street, which
+shone behind Kate as she walked up it, and threw her
+shadow bewilderingly before her. The court itself had
+no light but that which came through the uncurtained
+windows of the dwellings on each side, through which
+she caught glimpses of startling phases of English life,
+before she reached Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s door, where she stood
+a minute or two in the dark, looking through the small
+panes of the casement close beside it.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very little kitchen, but quite large enough
+for the furniture it contained. There was an old box
+under the window, and one shelf against the wall,
+holding all Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s china and plate. The only
+chair, and a tiny table standing on three thick legs,
+were drawn up to the fireplace, in which a few coals
+were burning. Two old tin candlesticks and a flat-iron
+adorned the chimneypiece, and Kate saw, with
+a slight prick of her conscience, for she had not cared
+to decorate the house at home, that a bit of holly had
+been stuck into each candlestick, as well as into every
+other pane of the little window. Mrs. Duffy herself
+was seated in the chair, apparently amusing herself
+with a pantomime of taking tea, for there was
+a black teapot and a cracked cup and saucer on the
+table, but there was no food upon it, and when she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>
+held the teapot almost perpendicularly only a few
+drops fell from the spout. She put it down, and
+looked placidly into the embers, shaking her head a
+little from time to time, but gently, as if more in remembrance
+of the past than in reproach of the present.
+She was a clean, fresh-looking old woman, with no
+teeth, and her cheeks formed a little ball, like a withered
+rosy apple, between her hollow eyes and sunken
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The Lord love you, my dear,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
+when Kate went in, and delivered her message, &#8216;and
+the good doctor, too. It isn&#8217;t everybody as has such
+friends as me&mdash;on a Christmas Eve, too, when a body
+feels so lonesome wi&#8217;out friends. I don&#8217;t mind so
+much on working days, my dear, but one wants friends
+of a holiday like-Christmas. One can work wi&#8217;out
+friends; but one can&#8217;t love wi&#8217;out friends.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, indeed!&#8217; said Kate, with a profound sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And I&#8217;ve got such good friends!&#8217; continued Mrs.
+Duffy, triumphantly; &#8216;there&#8217;s one as gave me sixpence,
+and another threepence, and another twopence, only
+this morning. That came up to elevenpence; so I&#8217;ve
+bought my Christmas joint, just like other folks, you
+know. You&#8217;d maybe like to see my Christmas joint
+like other folks, shouldn&#8217;t you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I should very much,&#8217; answered Kate.</p>
+
+<p>The Christmas joint was evidently a very precious<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
+possession, for it had been laid carefully between a
+plate and a basin, and these were well tied up in a
+ragged cloth, and put out of the way of any marauding
+cat. Kate&#8217;s eyebrows went up a good deal, and her
+eyelids smarted a little as if with coming tears, when
+she saw it. It was a morsel of coarse beef, which would
+not have covered the old woman&#8217;s hand, but which she
+regarded with unconcealed satisfaction and delight.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That cost sevenpence,&#8217; she said, &#8216;and I bought two
+pennyworth of greens, and a twopenny loaf to eat with
+it&mdash;me and a friend of mine, as is coming to dine with
+me. It&#8217;s a very poor lame girl as lives down the court;
+very poor, indeed, so I asked her to come and help to
+eat my Christmas joint, which is exceedingly pleasant
+to me. The neighbour next door has promised to
+lend me a chair; we&#8217;re all so friendly one with another.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Then if you have a visitor you must bring her
+with you to tea,&#8217; said Kate, &#8216;and any children you
+have. Haven&#8217;t you got any sons or daughters?
+You&#8217;d enjoy yourself more with them there.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bless your kind heart all the same,&#8217; answered
+Mrs. Duffy, her cheerful face overcast for a moment;
+&#8216;I never had more than one bonny boy, and he went
+off to Australy nigh upon thirty years ago. My
+Johnny he was. Sometimes I think as I shall never
+see him again. I was thinking of him when your
+knock came to the door. He was going on for twenty;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
+and I was a strong woman of forty then. I doubt
+whether Johnny &#8217;ud know his poor old mother again if
+he did come back.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;How long is it since you heard from him?&#8217;
+enquired Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I never heard from him at all,&#8217; said Mrs. Duffy,
+in a matter-of-course tone; &#8216;he couldn&#8217;t write, and I
+couldn&#8217;t write. But he went to Australy, and he is in
+Australy now, if he hasn&#8217;t tumbled off. I can&#8217;t help
+thinking at times he must ha&#8217; tumbled off, though the
+flies never do tumble off the ceiling. I&#8217;ve watched
+&#8217;em for hours and hours together, thinking of my
+Johnny, and no fly never tumbled off yet. They have
+to walk with their heads downwards in Australy, like
+them flies; but my Johnny wasn&#8217;t brought up to it,
+and I&#8217;m afeard for him at times.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, no, he couldn&#8217;t tumble off,&#8217; said Kate, laughing
+a little; &#8216;but are you sure you would know him yourself,
+Mrs. Duffy, after thirty years?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Can a mother forget her own boy?&#8217; asked the
+old woman; &#8216;ay, ay; I should know my Johnny
+among a thousand, or tens of thousands. I&#8217;ll be glad
+to bring my friend with me to-morrow, and many
+thanks to you for asking her. I&#8217;ve got to go out into the
+country to sing a carril or two at a farm-house, where
+they&#8217;re always very good to me; but that&#8217;ll be afore
+dinner; and we&#8217;ll come punctual to your house at five<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
+o&#8217;clock, me and my friend; and a merry Christmas
+and a happy New Year to every one of us, and you
+above all, my dear.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A miserable Christmas, and an unhappy New
+Year it will be for me,&#8217; thought Kate; but she did
+not say it. Mrs. Duffy insisted upon lighting her
+down the court with her only candle, which guttered
+and wasted terribly in the night wind; and the last
+glance she had of the kindly, withered old face was
+lit up by its flickering flame at the entrance of the
+dark passage.</p>
+
+<p>Very early in the morning, long before the Christmas
+sun was ready to show itself, Mrs. Duffy roused
+up to the fact that if she was to sing a &#8216;carril&#8217; a mile
+and a half away in the country, it was time to set out.
+Even her hard heap of rags and straw, with the thin,
+scanty blanket she had been shivering under all night,
+were more attractive to her at seventy years of age
+than the long, lonely walk, through lanes deep down
+between high hedgerows, with cartruts filled with
+mingled mud and ice. But she was of a brave and
+grateful heart, and after a short prayer for herself and
+everybody, uttered before quitting the feeble warmth
+of her bed, she sallied out into the chill frostiness of
+the coming dawn. Up and down the street she heard
+the shrill voices of children chanting some Christmas
+ditty; and she thought of Johnny when he was a boy,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
+with his yellow hair, and round, red face, turning out
+all eagerness and hope on a Christmas morning, and
+singing in a voice which could not fail to rouse the
+most determined sleeper.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He came home once with three shillings and twopence
+halfpenny, all in ha&#8217;pence,&#8217; thought Mrs. Duffy,
+wiping away a tear from the sunken corner of her eye.</p>
+
+<p>It was a wearisome walk to the farm-house; but
+as soon as she had reached the porch, and lifting up
+her quavering voice, began, &#8216;God rest you, merry
+gentlefolk, Let nothing you dismay,&#8217; the door was
+flung open quickly, and she was called in, and set before
+such a breakfast as she had not seen for years.
+Poor old Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s heart was very full, and before
+she could swallow a morsel, she said in a slow and
+tremulous voice: &#8216;I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks
+this year. It&#8217;s like them blessed Christmases we shall
+have when everybody&#8217;s friends, when the lion is friends
+with the lamb, and the cockatrices with the babies.
+Here&#8217;s Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter asked me to tea, and
+I&#8217;ve got a Christmas joint, and now there&#8217;s such a
+breakfast as I never see before, and me done nothing
+for it. I can&#8217;t think what&#8217;s come to folks; but it&#8217;s a
+blessed Christmas, it is.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You&#8217;ll sing your carol for us better after breakfast,&#8217;
+said the farmer&#8217;s wife, &#8216;and my husband&#8217;s father
+has given me a shilling for you.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>Mrs. Duffy shed a few very blissful tears, and after
+breakfast sang two or three carols, with as much zeal
+and energy as though they were sure to bring down
+many blessings on the hospitable roof. It was a little
+after nine o&#8217;clock when she left the house; but there
+was the Christmas dinner to cook, and it was necessary
+to go home early for that. She bade them good-by,
+and took her way joyously across the fields lying in
+winter-fallow, through which there was a nearer way
+back to the town.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy was just turning out of the fields into
+the high road, when a man suddenly started up from
+behind the hedge, and laid his hand roughly on her
+shoulder. He was a big, heavy-looking fellow, in the
+ordinary dress of a labourer; and he seemed, even at
+that early hour, to be half stupefied with drink. She
+looked into his coarse face, with a feeling of terror
+which was new to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I want a shilling off you,&#8217; he said, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A shilling!&#8217; she cried, &#8216;where should a poor
+woman like me have a shilling from?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Mrs. Duffy had prided herself all her life on
+never having told a lie. She looked up and down the
+road, but there was not a creature in sight; and she
+glanced again hopelessly into the man&#8217;s savage and
+stupid face. What should she do? To part with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
+the shilling just given to her would be a very great
+loss; and she knew it would only be spent in the
+nearest public-house. Should she be doing very
+wrong to deny having one? It was the first time for
+years that she had had a whole silver shilling about
+her; and any moment during that time she could have
+replied &#8216;No&#8217; boldly and truthfully. Might she not say
+&#8216;No&#8217; just this once?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Haven&#8217;t you got a shilling?&#8217; he repeated, shaking
+her shoulder roughly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well,&#8217; she said, feebly, &#8216;I haven&#8217;t had a shilling
+ever so long; but I have got one now. I&#8217;m a very
+poor old woman, my good young man. If I&#8217;d got a
+penny, I&#8217;d give it you, and welcome.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I must have your shilling,&#8217; he said, doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I can&#8217;t give it you, indeed,&#8217; she answered; &#8216;there&#8217;s
+my rent, and coals, and other things; and I&#8217;m very
+poor. You&#8217;d only drink it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>She had scarcely finished speaking, when she saw
+the stranger produce a pistol from under his jacket,
+and point it at her. There was a sudden flash before
+her eyes, and she felt a keen pain; then she fell down
+without feeling or consciousness under the hedge-bank
+on the high road. A few minutes later, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+brougham was stopping at a toll-gate just outside the
+town, when a labouring man, who was striding swiftly
+past, spoke a few words to the driver. Dr. Layard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
+was inside, with Kate, who was going out with him to
+see her godfather, a clergyman in the next parish.
+The doctor, having finished what he had to say to
+the gatekeeper, inquired what the labourer had said
+in passing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He says there&#8217;s a woman up the road, who&#8217;s been
+shot, sir,&#8217; answered the servant, &#8216;and he says to me,
+&#8220;Look sharp after her, she&#8217;s an old woman, and very
+poor.&#8221;&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Shot!&#8217; exclaimed Dr. Layard; &#8216;drive on then,
+quickly. Katie, don&#8217;t be frightened. Gate, look after
+that fellow who has just gone through.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The last order was shouted through the window,
+as the carriage rolled rapidly away. In a few minutes
+they gained the spot where the old woman was lying
+as one dead, under the leafless hedge, with the blood
+staining the thin shawl which was wrapped about her.
+Her old wrinkled face had lost all its apple-red, and
+her grey hair, scanty and short, had fallen down from
+under her white cap. Both Dr. Layard and Katie
+exclaimed in one breath, &#8216;Mrs. Duffy!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate was not wanting in nerve, though she felt a
+little shaken, and exceedingly troubled. She left the
+carriage, and sat down on the bank, supporting Mrs.
+Duffy in her arms, while Dr. Layard made a brief
+examination of the wounds in the poor old neck and
+shoulder. His expression was very grave, and he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
+stood for a few moments deliberating silently, with his
+eyes fastened upon the deathlike face of Mrs. Duffy,
+and the pretty, anxious face of his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is it dangerous?&#8217; asked Kate, falteringly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Almost fatal,&#8217; he answered; &#8216;within a touch of
+death. There&#8217;s one chance. I&#8217;m thinking of driving
+straight to Lentford Hospital. It&#8217;s a good level road
+all the way, and the hospital is at this end of the
+town. If you get into the brougham first, I can lift
+the old woman, and place her in an easy posture
+against you. Could you hold her pretty much as you
+are now for an hour or more? I&#8217;d do it myself; but
+you could not lift her in as I shall do. Are you strong
+enough?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I will be strong enough; I will do it,&#8217; said Kate,
+lifting up her head with determination and endurance
+in every line of her face.</p>
+
+<p>It did not occur to Dr. Layard that his carriage
+was a new one, handsomely lined and fitted up; but
+the servant&#8217;s soul ran more upon such subjects, and
+he began to protest against lifting the wounded and
+bleeding woman into it. Such a very miserable old
+creature, too, thought Bob, not a bit of a lady.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dolt! idiot! brute!&#8217; ejaculated Dr. Layard, in
+high wrath; and Bob, who had only uttered half his
+protest, shut his mouth, and was silent.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed a very long time to Kate, though the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
+carriage bowled rapidly along the smooth, straight old
+Roman road. Poor Mrs. Duffy gave no sign of life,
+but lay against her heavily, with her grey head resting
+upon Kate&#8217;s shoulder. She held her as tenderly as
+she could, now and then clasping her warm fingers
+about her wrist, which was knotted and brown with
+age and hard work, but which gave no throb back to
+Kate&#8217;s touch. Dr. Layard, who rode outside with
+Bob, looked round from time to time, nodding to her,
+but with so grave a face that she felt the case was
+very serious. She thanked God fervently when the
+spires of Lentford came in sight, and the last notes of
+the morning chimes fell upon her ear. There were
+streams of people going to church, exchanging cheery
+salutations with one another; but many a person
+caught a glimpse of Kate&#8217;s pale and agitated face, and
+the grey head lying against her neck, and felt a shadow
+pass over their own Christmas gladness.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Layard&#8217;s carriage drove into the courtyard of
+the hospital, and then Kate was quickly relieved of
+her burden. Mrs. Duffy was carried away, and Dr.
+Layard followed her. Kate sat there, anxious and
+troubled, while the clock in the nearest church tower
+struck one quarter after another, and Bob drove up
+and down at a snail&#8217;s pace in dreary and monotonous
+turns. At length some one beckoned to him from the
+hospital portico, and Bob responded with an alacrity<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>
+which betrayed his impatience. Kate only saw at the
+last moment that it was Dr. Carey, not her father,
+who had summoned him; and she shrank back,
+breathless and tremulous, into the corner of the carriage
+which concealed her best from him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Bob, your master says you must drive home,&#8217; said
+Dr. Carey; &#8216;he will return by train in the afternoon.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;And the old woman, sir?&#8217; said Bob, &#8216;how&#8217;s she
+going on?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very little hope,&#8217; answered Philip Carey, whose
+face Kate could not see, but whose voice made every
+nerve thrill.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is it murder?&#8217; asked Bob, who had known Dr.
+Carey as his master&#8217;s assistant, and stood on very
+little ceremony with him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m afraid so,&#8217; he said; &#8216;how are they all at home,
+Bob? Miss Brooks and Miss Kate?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;She&#8217;s in there,&#8217; said Bob, pointing with his thumb
+to the carriage. Kate roused herself to lift up her
+head with dignity, sit erect upon her seat, and meet
+Dr. Carey&#8217;s salutation calmly. It was nearly four weeks
+since he had written to her, and she had replied,
+&#8216;Come.&#8217; He looked at her with an amazed and confused
+expression, and took off his hat, but did not
+attempt to speak. Both of them coloured, and both
+bowed stiffly and in silence. Then Philip Carey, still
+bareheaded, and as if lost in thought, walked slowly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
+back up the broad steps of the portico, and Kate cried
+most of the way home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I never saw anything like that,&#8217; thought Bob;
+&#8216;and they used to be like brother and sister, almost.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the afternoon when Dr. Layard returned,
+and then he had to see the superintendent
+of police. The stranger who had passed through the
+toll-gate had not yet been found; but he could not be
+far off, and Bob was ready to swear to him when he
+was taken. Kate&#8217;s Christmas party passed off more
+successfully because one of the invited guests had been
+almost murdered on the highway. The news ran like
+wildfire through the town and neighbourhood, and the
+farmer&#8217;s wife came to tell of Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s morning
+visit, and her cheerful carols just before the villain
+met her. She and Kate mingled their tears together
+over the recital, and Kate ended her miserable Christmas
+by going to bed with a very heavy heart.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the stranger was found and sworn
+to by Bob, though he flatly denied having been anywhere
+in the direction of the toll-bar. Neither Dr.
+Layard nor the toll-man could swear to him, as he had
+passed on the farther side of the carriage while they
+were talking at the other window. He was an utter
+stranger in the neighbourhood, without friends, and he
+stated that he was on the tramp. A very old pistol
+was found in a ditch near the spot where Mrs. Duffy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
+had been shot. The man was sent in safe custody to
+Lentford, to be brought face to face with the old
+woman, if she should recover consciousness enough
+to identify him and give her evidence against him.</p>
+
+<p>For twenty-four hours or more it continued very
+doubtful whether the poor old creature would ever
+rally. She had not spoken since she had been found,
+but she lay perfectly tranquil and patient on her
+hospital bed. Now and then a gleam of a smile, like
+the momentary glimmer of the sun on a cloudy day
+crossed her face, and her lips moved slightly, as if she
+were whispering. She knew when they were doing
+anything for her, for she tried to help herself, to raise
+her thin hand, or turn her grey head upon the pillow
+for them to see her neck. Dr. Carey, who had
+known her in former days, spent as much time as he
+could beside her bed; and towards the close of the
+day, just before the night nurse was coming to take
+her turn, he heard her voice speaking articulately but
+very slowly and faintly, and he stooped over her to
+listen to what she said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter! Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter!&#8217;
+she murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Would you like to see Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter?&#8217;
+asked Philip Carey, in his clearest and most pleasant
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; whispered the old woman.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>&#8216;To-morrow you shall,&#8217; he said; &#8216;it is too late
+now. To-morrow.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she assented, cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You will be better to-morrow,&#8217; he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;No, no,&#8217; murmured the old woman. &#8216;He shot
+me dead because I wouldn&#8217;t give him my shilling.
+He robbed me.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;There&#8217;s a shilling wrapped up in a bit of blue
+sugar-paper in your pocket,&#8217; said Dr. Carey. A
+sparkle of satisfaction shone upon the poor drawn
+face, and then Mrs. Duffy fell quietly asleep.</p>
+
+<p>She was certainly somewhat better in the morning,
+and watching the people who were about her; her mind
+was clear, and she evidently knew her circumstances,
+where she was, and what had happened to her. Before
+noon Dr. Layard and Kate arrived; and Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s
+sunken blue eyes brightened, yet filled with tears, as
+she looked up into their faces bending pityingly above
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well, old friend,&#8217; said Dr. Layard, heartily, &#8216;you
+are better already. We are going to pull you through,
+you&#8217;ll see, Carey and me. We know what a tough
+old lady you are. Carey used to play you some
+tricks in the old times, and now he&#8217;ll make it up
+to you by pulling you through. Won&#8217;t you, Carey?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate had not seen him enter the ward, and now
+she sat down, feeling weak and tremulous, on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
+chair at Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s head, keeping her eyes fixed
+upon the old woman&#8217;s face. Dr. Carey&#8217;s voice sounded
+oddly in her ears, as if he was speaking in very loud
+and constrained tones.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I am going to do my best,&#8217; he said, &#8216;but you
+must keep yourself quite still now, Mrs. Duffy, and
+get up your strength to tell the magistrate your story.
+You are a brave old woman, and won&#8217;t be afraid;
+and I&#8217;ll tell them you never told a lie in your life.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy smiled, but did not speak. She had
+not spoken yet, but she stretched out her hand, and
+tried to turn towards Kate. Dr. Carey seemed to
+understand her meaning perfectly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You want Dr. Layard&#8217;s daughter to sit where you
+can see her?&#8217; he said. &#8216;You want her to stay with
+you?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, ay,&#8217; she answered. &#8216;God bless her!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>It was Philip Carey who moved Kate&#8217;s chair, and
+placed it in a convenient position for old Mrs. Duffy
+to see her. She glanced at him once, but his eyes
+were downcast, and his aspect very solemn. He bade
+one of the nurses bring her a footstool, and then he
+and her father went away, and old Mrs. Duffy, smiling
+now and then, closed her eyes and seemed to fall into
+a doze.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very quiet hour for Kate. The ward
+was a small one, containing only four beds, and no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
+other patient in it. The nurses were busy, and had
+all gone away, leaving her alone. A wintry sunshine
+was falling through the farthest window upon
+the bare white walls. Her mind was strangely divided
+between Mrs. Duffy and Philip Carey, whose life
+was spent mostly within these walls. He had spoken
+so kindly, even affectionately, to this poor, friendless
+old woman, but he had not spoken a word to her.
+How was it that he could be so fickle, so cruel towards
+her? What reason or motive could possibly have
+made him change his mind so suddenly and so dishonourably,
+and plunge her into so much wretchedness
+and perplexity? She could not bear to meet
+him, yet she would have to bear it, for her father was
+so fond of him. How proud and happy her father
+would have been in him as his son in-law! It was
+too hard even to think of. Perhaps she would even
+have the misery some day of seeing his wife, the girl
+who had supplanted her, and made her life a blank.
+For Kate felt sure that it would be impossible for her
+ever to love another man. No one else could be to
+her what Philip Carey had been.</p>
+
+<p>The hour passed away, and there were several
+quiet signs of excitement. Dr. Layard and Dr. Carey
+came in, felt the old woman&#8217;s pulse, and gave her a
+cordial. Kate was told that if she could be calm she
+had better remain where she was, as Mrs. Duffy held<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
+her hand closely, and wished her to stay. Three or
+four strange gentlemen came in, and stood about the
+bed, while Mrs. Duffy, in very feeble tones, told her
+story, which was written down, word for word, from
+her lips. She had not much to say, and it was soon
+over.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Could you identify the individual?&#8217; inquired the
+magistrate&#8217;s clerk.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Should you know the man again?&#8217; asked Dr.
+Carey, who was standing close to Kate, and near old
+Mrs. Duffy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Ay, to be sure,&#8217; she answered, with more energy
+than she had displayed before.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He has been taken;&#8217; said Dr. Layard; &#8216;that is,
+a man has been taken up, and we think he is the man.
+You must see him yourself.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman shuddered, and grasped Kate&#8217;s
+hand tightly. It might have been Dr. Carey&#8217;s hand,
+for he seemed conscious of the close grasp, and
+answered to it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Come, come,&#8217; he said, encouragingly, &#8216;you never
+used to be a coward; and you have only to open your
+eyes, and look at him. You have plenty of friends
+about you, you know.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s a dreadful man,&#8217; she said, in a whisper, &#8216;but
+let him come.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate herself felt a strong thrill of excitement, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
+she listened to the regular tramp of the policeman,
+and the shambling tread of the murderer, coming
+down the bare boards of the ward. The old woman had
+closed her eyes, as if to gather strength for the dreadful
+detective gaze. Dr. Carey laid his hand on the back
+of Kate&#8217;s chair, so close to her it almost touched her
+shoulder, and one of her brown curls fell upon it. The
+footsteps came on to the side of the bed, and stopped
+there. Kate turned her head and took one frightened
+glance. The murderer was a middle-aged man,
+with a full, heavy, red face, and light hair just turning
+grey, not a vicious-looking man on the whole; he might
+have been a decent, honest, creditable fellow, but for
+the drinking habits which had brutalised him. He was
+looking down at the wounded old woman with an air
+half sorrowful and half ashamed; but a little sullen
+also, as a boy looks when caught in some fault. The
+policeman at his right hand was the only sign to
+mark him out as a criminal; and he seemed as much
+on the alert as if he expected him to make a second
+murderous attack on the old woman in her bed. For
+a minute or two all were silent in the room. Mrs.
+Duffy&#8217;s eyelids were closed, and her lips moved as if
+in prayer. She looked up at last; and her dim blue
+eyes, which were full of terror, like those of a child
+who wakes frightened, changed like those of a child,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
+when it sees that the face bending over it is a familiar
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why,&#8217; she cried, in a voice at once firm and glad,
+&#8216;it&#8217;s my boy! It&#8217;s my Johnny!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Her wrinkled features began to work with emotion,
+and she was about to raise herself up to stretch
+out her arms to him, but Dr. Carey was quick enough
+to prevent her. He threw himself on his knees at
+Kate&#8217;s feet, and laid his strong arm gently across the
+old woman. Every one else stood motionless and
+thunderstruck. The man himself did not stir hand
+or foot.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s my son as went to Australy,&#8217; continued
+Mrs. Duffy; &#8216;please let him come and kiss me.
+Don&#8217;t you know your poor old mother again, Johnny?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, mother! mother!&#8217; exclaimed the man,
+striking his hard hands together, &#8216;that&#8217;s my mother
+sir, as I came back to, and was looking for. I hadn&#8217;t
+seen her these thirty years, and she&#8217;s nothing like the
+woman she was. You&#8217;ll let me go and kiss her,
+maybe?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>He had spoken to the policeman next to him,
+and his official eye was softened; but the magistrates
+were there, and the indulgence was not his to
+grant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is this the person who attempted first to rob
+and then to murder you?&#8217; asked the magistrate&#8217;s
+clerk.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>&#8216;Oh, dear no! it&#8217;s my boy,&#8217; said the old woman;
+&#8216;he&#8217;d never shoot at his mother, bless you! It was
+quite a different man, not him; a dreadful man.
+That&#8217;s the boy I nursed, and taught him his prayers.
+He&#8217;d never lift up his hand agen me; please let him
+go.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There was no question in Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s mind as
+to whether she was telling the truth or not. Her
+gladness was so great that her mind utterly refused
+the incredible and impossible idea that her own son
+could have thought of robbing and murdering her.
+If he had been brought before her red-handed with
+her blood, she would still have believed herself mistaken.
+It was some ruffian and monster who had shot
+her, not her son. As for him, his heavy, bloodshot
+eyes were filled with tears, and his voice, as he began
+to speak, was choked and husky.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sir,&#8217; he said, addressing no one in particular,
+&#8216;she&#8217;s not like the same woman, but she&#8217;s my mother.
+She had brown hair, and was very strong. I never
+thought of her being like that. I wish I&#8217;d kept free
+from drink. Nobody knows what drink&#8217;ll bring him
+to. She&#8217;s my mother; and I came back to work
+for her, if she were still alive. I&#8217;ll never taste a drop
+again as long&#8217;s I live.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Hush, hush!&#8217; said Dr. Layard, coming behind
+him, and tapping him on the shoulder; &#8216;hold your<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
+tongue, my good fellow. You&#8217;ll make your mother
+worse again if you talk. There&#8217;s a good chance for
+her if she&#8217;s kept quiet.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The magistrates and their clerk walked away to
+the end of the ward, and held a short consultation
+there. There was not much doubt that this man was
+the right man; but there was no one to bring home
+the crime to him, except his mother. Bob, Dr. Layard&#8217;s
+servant, swore positively that he was the man
+who told him a woman was lying in the road murdered;
+but the woman herself denied that it was he
+who had attacked her. To be sure there was more
+than sufficient reason for her to do so, but if she persisted
+in it, what was to be done?</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;You must remember you are upon your oath,&#8217;
+said the elder magistrate, &#8216;and probably upon your
+deathbed. Now look at this man carefully, and tell
+me if he is not the man who shot at you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Duffy gazed earnestly at her son, smiling
+more and more, until her pale, shrunken face grew
+radiant with happiness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why, it couldn&#8217;t be him,&#8217; she said, &#8216;how could it?
+Ay, ay; I could swear it were never him; my Johnny.
+Please let him stay aside of me for a bit. The police
+may stop for him if you like; but he&#8217;d never do it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Carey and I will be bail for him, if it&#8217;s necessary,&#8217;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
+said Dr. Layard, &#8216;only let the poor fellow shake
+hands with his mother. There, let him go.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The man seemed to slip suddenly from the policeman&#8217;s
+grasp, and sunk down on his knees at his
+mother&#8217;s feet, hiding his face in the bed-clothes, and
+sobbing till the bed shook under him. All the time
+his mother&#8217;s eyes were shining upon him, and her
+arms, still kept firmly down by Dr. Carey, were
+trembling to touch him.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrates and their retinue went their way,
+leaving Mrs. Duffy with her son, while Kate and
+Philip Carey stood by, a little aloof from them, and
+from each other. The man crept closer and closer
+to his mother, till his hot and heavy face rested upon
+her hand. There was a deep silence in the ward.
+Outside in the corridor, through the half open door,
+could be seen the policeman, still waiting for final
+orders.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mother,&#8217; sobbed out Duffy, in a smothered and
+faltering voice, &#8216;can you forgive me?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Why! there&#8217;s nothing to forgive, Johnny,&#8217; she
+said, &#8216;and I&#8217;m so happy, I&#8217;d forgive everybody. I&#8217;d
+forgive the raskill as shot me. I have forgive him
+already, Johnny.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I want you to get well, mother,&#8217; he said, with
+desperate earnestness, &#8216;and I&#8217;ll make it all up to you.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>
+I&#8217;m come back to work for you, and indeed, I&#8217;ll work.
+Will you forgive me, mother?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Forgive you, Johnny!&#8217; she murmured, &#8216;it&#8217;s a
+easy thing to forgive a body when you love a body.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>The last words dropped faintly, syllable by syllable,
+from the old woman&#8217;s white lips, and Kate&#8217;s heart
+sank like lead. The withered face had grown paler,
+and the wrinkled eyelids closed slowly over the filmy
+blue eyes. Kate uttered a low cry of trouble, and
+Philip Carey turned quickly towards her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Is she going to die, Philip?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;She is very faint,&#8217; he replied, &#8216;She has been too
+much excited, but she may rally yet. Go and send
+me a nurse, and do not return yourself.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate walked softly down the ward, the tears
+falling fast from her eyes. She was no longer grieving
+over her own troubles, but for the hopeful, cheery,
+brave old woman, who had met her long-lost son
+again in such a manner, and at such a moment as
+this. She waited in the matron&#8217;s parlour until a
+message was brought to her that Mrs. Duffy was
+sleeping again, with her son watching and waiting
+beside her. Then she returned home with her father.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ve not the shadow of a doubt Duffy&#8217;s the man,&#8217;
+shouted Dr. Layard to her, above the noise of the
+train; &#8216;but the thing cannot be brought home to him.
+The old woman is as true as truth itself, but she is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>
+labouring under a delusion. She no more believes
+that her son was the man who shot at her than I believe
+that you did it. I question whether she would
+believe Duffy himself if he owned it to her, which he
+must not do. I&#8217;ve told him so. I said, &#8220;Duffy, I feel
+pretty sure you are the villain that did it, and if she
+dies I&#8217;ll do my best to prove it. But never you tell
+your mother it was yourself; it would go far to break
+her heart.&#8221; And he said, &#8220;I&#8217;ll never speak a word
+about it, one way or the other, sir.&#8221; Oh! Duffy did it!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you think she will die?&#8217; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Carey will do his best for her,&#8217; said Dr. Layard;
+&#8216;I never saw such a change in a young fellow as there
+is in Carey. He is as dull as a beetle; just when he
+has got all he has been striving for, too! I don&#8217;t understand
+it.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>Kate believed she understood it, but she kept
+silence. It was not likely he could feel happy and
+at ease in her presence or her father&#8217;s if he had a
+spark of feeling; and he certainly possessed a good
+deal of feeling. She had caught his eye once during
+the strange interview round Mrs. Duffy&#8217;s bed, and
+they had looked at one another with a sympathy
+which had seemed at the moment the most natural
+thing in the world. She had called him Philip, too!
+How her cheeks burned at the very recollection. She
+wished she had preserved to the end an icy dignity of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
+manner towards him; but she had altogether forgotten
+herself, and it had been a happier moment than
+she had felt for these four weeks past. Perhaps utter
+forgetfulness of self is the only real happiness.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Kate was once more sitting
+alone before the fire in the breakfast-room, with nothing
+particular to do, until it was time to start for
+Lentford once more, when the servant brought in a
+large official-looking cover, with the words &#8216;Dead
+Letter Office&#8217; printed upon it, and addressed &#8216;Miss
+Kate Layard, Ilverton.&#8217; It was the first time in her
+life that Kate had ever received such an ominous-looking
+packet. She opened it with some trepidation,
+and drew from it her own brief note to Philip Carey,
+written four weeks before. The envelope bore several
+postmarks upon it, with directions to try one town
+after another&mdash;Liverpool, then Manchester, then London&mdash;but
+it was several minutes before she discovered
+how it had all happened. Her own handwriting lay
+before her eyes, or she could never have believed it:
+she had directed her letter to &#8216;Dr. Carey, Everton
+Square, Liverpool.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>How Kate had come to write Liverpool instead
+of Lentford she could never understand. It was
+true Philip had gone to Liverpool after leaving
+Ilverton, but how stupid of her to make such a dreadful
+mistake! Then he, too, had been passing through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
+as miserable a time as herself. He must have come
+to the conclusion that she did not care for him, and
+that she had not even the grace to thank him for the
+love he had bestowed upon her in vain. What could
+he have thought of her? It must have been a pain
+to him. She would make it up to him in some
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Kate&#8217;s brain was in a whirl all the way to
+Lentford. She walked up the broad steps of the
+hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat
+porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly
+at her; and the students, hurrying along the broad
+corridors, took off their hats to Dr. Layard&#8217;s pretty
+daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as
+a good-sized room, with benches round and across
+it, upon which were seated rows of poor patients,
+waiting humbly for their turn to go in and see the
+doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an
+inch or two, and Kate saw Philip Carey&#8217;s face, grave
+and care-worn, listening to a poor woman who was
+just going away by another entrance. She laid her
+hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in,
+and passed on into the room instead. &#8216;Philip,&#8217; she
+said, her face flushing at his look of amazement, &#8216;I
+am only going to stay one moment. I have been so
+miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Wrote what?&#8217; he asked, clasping the hand with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>
+which she offered him the misdirected letter, and
+holding both closely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I only wrote &#8220;Come,&#8221;&#8217; stammered Kate, the
+tears starting into her eyes, &#8216;and I thought&mdash;oh, I
+don&#8217;t know what I thought! I directed it to Liverpool
+instead of Lentford, and it&#8217;s been wandering
+about ever since. Do you understand?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Do you mean you will be my wife?&#8217; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Yes,&#8217; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>They had only three minutes to themselves.
+Three minutes was the time allotted for each case,
+and as it expired the door was opened again an inch
+or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next
+patient. Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and
+dismissed her with a glance which set her heart
+beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long
+flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs.
+Duffy was lying as if she trod on air. The old
+woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her eyes
+calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red
+beginning to show itself upon her cheek. The
+good chance for her recovery was a still better one
+this morning.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;He&#8217;s coming back again this morning,&#8217; she
+whispered in Kate&#8217;s ear; &#8216;they let him stay beside
+me all yesterday, and he&#8217;s coming back again to-day.
+It&#8217;s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
+like it. I hope they&#8217;ll never catch that poor raskill
+as shot me, I do. It &#8217;ud spoil my Christmas and
+Johnny&#8217;s if they did. Has it been a happy Christmas
+for you, my dear?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very happy,&#8217; answered Kate, with a bright smile,
+as the present joy blotted out the remembrance of the
+past sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;That&#8217;s right, my dear!&#8217; murmured Mrs. Duffy,
+&#8216;I don&#8217;t know as ever I knew such a Christmas.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>There is little more to be told. Dr. Carey made
+his appearance at Dr. Layard&#8217;s that evening, and
+delighted him beyond measure by asking him for
+Kate. Mrs. Duffy recovered and lived two or three
+years longer in undisturbed happiness, and in a
+degree of comfort to which she had been unaccustomed
+throughout her life. For her son, who had
+not prospered much in Australia, worked industriously
+and steadily to maintain her at home, and
+devoted himself to her with real tenderness. It was
+not till after her death, when Kate Carey was standing
+beside her coffin looking down at the placid face and
+closed eyes of the old woman, that he told the story
+of his return home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;I&#8217;d worked my passage across, ma&#8217;am,&#8217; he said,
+the tears rolling down his cheeks, &#8216;and I&#8217;d landed in
+Liverpool a week afore Christmas, with as much as
+five pound in my pocket, all I&#8217;d saved in Australy;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
+and there were a lot set on me, and took me to a
+public, and I suppose I drank all my wits away. I
+reached Ilverton by the last train on Christmas Eve,
+but I didn&#8217;t know as mother were gone to live in
+the town. It were a bitter night, and I slept on a
+bench at the railway station. I hadn&#8217;t a penny left,
+when I set out to seek mother; and I were wandering
+about very miserable, when I saw a decent old
+woman coming along all alone. I only thought I&#8217;d
+frighten a shilling out of her. I never meant no
+harm. The pistol were an old pistol I&#8217;d had in the
+bush; and I didn&#8217;t recollect it was loaded, and it
+went bursting off, all in an instant of time. That
+quite brought me to, and I were running away to find
+somebody, when I see you and the doctor coming.
+I seemed to know it were a doctor. But when I
+found out it were my own poor old mother, which I
+did face to face with her in the hospital, I felt as I
+should die. She never knew as it were me, never.
+She used to talk about him, and say, &#8220;I forgave him,
+Johnny, and I hope God has forgave him too, whoever
+he is.&#8221; I shall never see another woman like my
+poor old mother.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">
+LONDON: PRINTED BY<br />
+SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br />
+AND PARLIAMENT STREET</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1"><span class="smcap">WORKS by HESBA STRETTON</span>,</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of &#8216;Jessica&#8217;s First Prayer.&#8217;</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/bennetts.jpg" alt="" /></div>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. CASSY.</b> Twenty-fourth Thousand. With Six Illustrations. Square
+crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The close of the little tale is of the most exquisitely touching kind, and the narrative,
+while free and graceful, is really of the most compressed and masterly character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is very fresh and simple. We thank Miss Stretton for another treat, as real to
+grown-up people as to children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Herald.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>II. THE KING&#8217;S SERVANTS.</b> With Eight Illustrations.
+Thirtieth Thousand. Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+Part I. Faithful in Little.<span class="gap">Part II. Unfaithful.</span><br />
+Part III. Faithful in Much.</p>
+
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The language is beautifully simple, the stories are touchingly told, and the religious
+purpose constantly kept in view.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Watchman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An interesting story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story, in all its beautiful simplicity and pathos, possesses a living power likely to
+carry it home to the hearts of all who read it.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Freeman.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>III. LOST GIP.</b> Forty-third Thousand. With Six Illustrations.
+Square crown 8vo. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;Prettily told.... Will be a favourite with young people.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;One of the most simply touching tales we ever read.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><b>IV. THE WONDERFUL LIFE.</b> Eighth Thousand. Fcp. 8vo.
+2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>This little book is intended to present the result of close investigations
+made by many learned men, in a plain, continuous narrative,
+suitable for unlearned readers. It has been written for those who have
+not the leisure or the books needed for threading together the fragmentary
+and scattered incidents recorded in the four Gospels.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;A well-written and concise narrative, which describes the wonderful story with a
+forcible simplicity that will appeal to all readers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will be very useful in the more advanced classes of the Sunday-school, and is also
+suitable for a Sunday-school prize.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Church Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story is presented in a plain and attractive manner.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is invaluable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Sunday-School Quarterly Journal.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center"><b>A LIST OF</b></p>
+
+
+<p class="ph1">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S</p>
+
+<p class="center">BOOKS SUITABLE FOR</p>
+
+<p class="ph1">CHILDREN&#8217;S PRESENTS AND PRIZES.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><img src="images/asterism.jpg" alt="" /> <i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S GENERAL CATALOGUE,
+comprising works on Theology, Science, Biography, History,
+Education, Travel, Commerce, and Fiction, will be sent gratis
+on application.</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>SUNBEAM WILLIE, AND OTHER STORIES</b>, for
+Home Reading and Cottage Meetings. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Containing</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+<tr><td>&#8216;Little Meggie&#8217;s Home,&#8217; &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>     &#8216;Sermon in Baby&#8217;s Shoes,&#8217;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&#8216;Aggie&#8217;s Christmas,&#8217;</td><td>    &#8216;Lina.&#8217;</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<p>Small square, uniform with &#8216;Lost Gip,&#8217; &amp;c. Three Illustrations.
+Price 1<i>s</i>. 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>DADDIE&#8217;S PET.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Ellen Ross</span> (&#8216;Nelsie Brook&#8217;). A
+Sketch from Humble Life. Square crown 8vo. uniform with &#8216;Lost
+Gip.&#8217; With Six Illustrations. 1<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We have been more than pleased with this simple bit of writing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Christian World.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of deep feeling and true and noble sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A very pretty tale.&#8217;&mdash;<i>John Bull.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A pretty little story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Scotsman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An exceedingly pretty little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>LOCKED OUT</b>: A Tale of the Strike. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Barlee</span>. With
+a Frontispiece. 1<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Beautifully written ... should be bought by all means for parochial libraries,
+whether in country or in town.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary Churchman.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Well written.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S THREE-AND-SIXPENNY SERIES of<br />
+BOOKS for JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">Works by the Author of &#8216;St. Olave&#8217;s,&#8217; &#8216;When I was a Little Girl,&#8217; &amp;c.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. AUNT MARY&#8217;S BRAN PIE.</b> Illustrated.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A bright story for children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Globe.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The stories are exceedingly good.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Capital stories.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This is a very amusing book for children; one of the best books of the season.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Literary
+World.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. SUNNYLAND STORIES.</b> Fcp. 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BRAVE MEN&#8217;S FOOTSTEPS.</b> A Book of Example and
+Anecdote for Young People. By the Editor of &#8216;Men who have Risen.&#8217;
+With Four Illustrations by <span class="smcap">C. Doyle</span>. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<p>The lives have been chosen to represent marked varieties of
+character, and their operation under different forms of effort. Success
+is here viewed in no narrow or merely commercial sense.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The little volume is precisely of the stamp to win the favour of those who, in choosing
+a gift for a boy, would consult his moral development as well as his temporary pleasure.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily
+Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A readable and instructive volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A good book which will, we hope, meet well-deserved success.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Works by CHARLES CAMDEN.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. HOITY, TOITY, THE GOOD LITTLE FELLOW.</b>
+With Eleven Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Relates very pleasantly the history of a charming little fellow who meddles always
+with a kindly disposition with other people&#8217;s affairs, and helps them to do right. There
+are many shrewd lessons to be picked up in this clever little story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Another of those charming books which Mr. Charles Camden knows so well how to
+produce.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds Mercury.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Original, faithful, and humorous story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Manchester Examiner.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. THE TRAVELLING MENAGERIE.</b> With Ten Illustrations
+by <span class="smcap">J. Mahoney</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A capital little book ... deserves a wide circulation among our boys and girls.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A very attractive story.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A series of admirable tales in which boys will take the deepest interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Leeds
+Mercury.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Will be sure to delight young readers; they will get from it much useful knowledge of
+natural history. The story is told in a pleasant, chatty style.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>PRETTY LESSONS IN VERSE FOR GOOD CHILDREN</b>;
+with some Lessons in Latin, in Easy Rhyme. By <span class="smcap">Sara
+Coleridge</span>. A New Edition. Illustrated.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Both in English and Latin they will pleasantly help little folk through what has been
+called &#8220;the bitterness of learning.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Saturday Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This is a most delightful, and, let us add, a most sensible book for children. It
+teaches us many a good moral, many a good common-sense lesson, in its rhymes, which
+are, for the most part, very musical to the ear.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE DESERT PASTOR, JEAN JAROUSSEAU.</b> By
+Colonel <span class="smcap">E. P. De L&#8217;Hoste</span>. Translated from the French of Eug&egrave;ne
+Pelletan. In fcp. 8vo. with an Engraved Frontispiece. New Edition.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;There is a poetical simplicity and picturesqueness; the noblest heroism; unpretentious
+religion; pure love, and the spectacle of a household brought up in the fear of the
+Lord.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is a touching record of the struggles in the cause of religious liberty of a real
+man.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is difficult to imagine any class of persons to whom this little book will not prove
+attractive.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Quarterly.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Works by MARTHA FARQUHARSON.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>
+<span class="indent"><b>I. ELSIE DINSMORE.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
+<span class="indent2"><b>II. ELSIE&#8217;S GIRLHOOD.</b> Crown 8vo.</span><br />
+<b>III. ELSIE&#8217;S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS.</b> Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We do not pretend to have read the history of Elsie as she is portrayed in three
+different volumes. By the help, however, of the illustrations, and by dips here and there,
+we can safely give a favourable account.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Elsie Dinsmore is a familiar name to a world of young readers. In the above three
+pretty volumes her story is complete, and it is one full of youthful experiences, winning
+a general interest.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>THE DESERTED SHIP.</b> A Real Story of the Atlantic. By
+<span class="smcap">Cupples Howe</span>, Master Mariner. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span>.
+Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Curious adventures with bears, seals, and other Arctic animals, and with scarcely
+more human Esquimaux, form the mass of material with which the story deals, and will
+much interest boys who have a spice of romance in their composition.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh
+Courant.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It is full of that continual succession of easily apprehended, yet stirring events, which
+please a boy, more than any other quality.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Daily Review.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE LITTLE WONDER-HORN.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jean Ingelow</span>. A
+Second Series of &#8216;Stories told to a Child.&#8217; With Fifteen Illustrations.
+Square 24mo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We like all the contents of the &#8220;Little Wonder-Horn&#8221; very much.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We recommend it with confidence.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of fresh and vigorous fancy; it is worthy of the author of some of the best of
+our modern verse.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>GUTTA-PERCHA WILLIE, the WORKING GENIUS.</b>
+By <span class="smcap">George MacDonald</span>. With Nine Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Arthur
+Hughes</span>. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;The cleverest child we know assures us she has read this story through five times.
+Mr. MacDonald will, we are convinced, accept that verdict upon his little work as final.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>PLUCKY FELLOWS.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">Stephen J.
+MacKenna</span>. With Nine Illustrations. Second Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;This is one of the very best &#8220;Books for Boys&#8221; which have been issued this year.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning
+Advertiser.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A thorough book for boys ... written throughout in a manly, straightforward
+manner, that is sure to win the hearts of the children.&#8217;&mdash;<i>London Society.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>LITTLE MINNIE&#8217;S TROUBLES</b>: an Every-day Chronicle.
+By <span class="smcap">N. R. D&#8217;Anvers</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">W. H. Hughes</span>. Fcp. 8vo.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE AFRICAN CRUISER.</b> A Midshipman&#8217;s Adventures on
+the West Coast. By <span class="smcap">S. W. Sadler</span>, R.N., Author of &#8216;Marshall
+Vavasour.&#8217; A Book for Boys. With Nine Illustrations. Second
+Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A capital story of youthful adventure.... Sea-loving boys will find few pleasanter
+gift-books this season than &#8220;The African Cruiser.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sea yarns have always been in favour with boys, but this, written in a brisk style by
+a thorough sailor, is crammed full of adventures.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, and other Stories.</b> Crown
+8vo. With Four Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;Seeking his Fortune&mdash;Oluf and Stephanoff&mdash;What&#8217;s
+in a Name?&mdash;Contrast&mdash;Onesta.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;These are plain, straightforward stories, told in the precise detailed manner which we
+are sure young people like.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;They are romantic, entertaining, and decidedly inculcate a sound and generous moral....
+We can answer for it that this volume will find favour with those for whom it is
+written, and that the sisters will like it quite as well as the brothers.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SEVEN AUTUMN LEAVES FROM FAIRYLAND.</b>
+Illustrated with Nine Etchings.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+
+<tr><td>Mermaid.</td><td>    Specklesides.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Little Hans.</td><td>      Black Sneid.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Dimple.</td><td>      Little Curly.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Two Princes.</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<p class="center"><b><i>HENRY S. KING &amp; CO.&#8217;S SERIES OF FIVE-SHILLING<br />
+BOOKS FOR JUVENILES.</i></b></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>MIKE HOWE, THE BUSHRANGER OF VAN DIEMEN&#8217;S
+LAND.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo. With a
+Frontispiece.</p>
+
+
+<p>This story, although a work of fiction, is a narrative of facts as to the
+leading incidents of the Bushranger&#8217;s career. The tale may therefore
+be regarded as a contribution to Colonial Literature.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;He illustrates the career of a bushranger half a century ago; and this he does in a
+highly creditable manner. His delineations of life in the bush are, to say the least, exquisite,
+and his representations of character are very marked.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Edinburgh Courant.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE TASMANIAN LILY.</b> By <span class="smcap">James Bonwick</span>. Crown 8vo.
+With Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;An interesting and useful work.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The characters of the stories are capitally conceived, and are full of those touches
+which give them a natural appearance.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><b>Two Works by DAVID KER.</b></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>I. THE BOY SLAVE IN BOKHARA.</b> A Tale of Central
+Asia. Crown 8vo. With Illustrations.</p>
+
+
+<p>In this work real scenes are grouped round an imaginary hero;
+genuine information is conveyed in a more attractive form than that of
+a mere dry statistical report.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Ostap Danilevitch Kostarenko, the Russian who is supposed to relate the story, has
+a great number of adventures, and passes, by dint of courage and ability, from a state of
+slavery to one of independence. Will prove attractive to boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Exciting boy&#8217;s story, well told and abounding in incidents.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of strange adventures ... well worked out to the end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;An attractive boy&#8217;s book. He claims to have grouped real scenes round an imaginary
+hero.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>II. THE WILD HORSEMAN OF THE PAMPAS.</b>
+Crown 8vo. Illustrated.</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">[<i>Just out.</i></p>
+</div>
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF OUR SCHOOL
+FIELD CLUB.</b> A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">G. C. Davies</span>.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>FANTASTIC STORIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard Leander</span>. Translated
+from the German by <span class="smcap">Paulina B. Granville</span>. With Eight full-page
+Illustrations by <span class="smcap">M. E. Fraser-Tytler</span>. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Short, quaint, and, as they are fitly called, fantastic, they deal with all manner of
+subjects.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;Fantastic&#8221; is certainly the right epithet to apply to some of these strange tales.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Amusing tales by one who took part in the general siege of Paris.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;The Knight who grew Rusty&#8221; is a delightful story, but &#8220;The Queen who could
+not make gingerbread nuts, and the King who could not play on the Jew&#8217;s harp,&#8221; will
+probably be the children&#8217;s favourite.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE GREAT DUTCH ADMIRALS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Jacob De Liefde</span>.
+Crown 8vo. With Eleven Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Townley Green</span> and
+others.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A wholesome present for boys.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really good book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really excellent book.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>HER TITLE OF HONOUR</b>: a Book for Girls. By <span class="smcap">Holme
+Lee</span>. New Edition. Crown 8vo. With a Frontispiece.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;It is unnecessary to recommend tales of Holme Lee&#8217;s, for they are well known, and
+all more or less liked. But this book far exceeds even our favourites, not perhaps as a
+story, for this is of the simplest kind, but because with the interest of a pathetic story is
+united the value of a definite and high purpose; and because, also, it is a careful and
+beautiful piece of writing, and is full of studies of refined and charming character.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;It contains a vast amount of admirable and happy teaching, as valuable as it is rare.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>AT SCHOOL WITH AN OLD DRAGOON.</b> By <span class="smcap">Stephen
+J. MacKenna</span>. Crown 8vo. With Six Illustrations.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Consisting almost entirely of startling stories of military adventure.... Boys will
+find them sufficiently exciting reading.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;These yarns give some very spirited and interesting descriptions of soldiering in
+various parts of the world.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mr. MacKenna&#8217;s former work, &#8220;Plucky Fellows,&#8221; is already a general favourite, and
+those who read the stories of the Old Dragoon will find that he has still plenty of
+materials at hand for pleasant tales, and has lost none of his power in telling them well.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>WAKING AND WORKING; OR, FROM GIRLHOOD
+TO WOMANHOOD.</b> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">G. S. Reaney</span>. With a
+Frontispiece. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A good tale&mdash;good in composition, good in style, good in purpose.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The story is of a very attractive character. Its purpose is a good and important
+one.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Rock.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SLAVONIC FAIRY TALES.</b> From Russian, Servian, Polish,
+and Bohemian Sources. By <span class="smcap">John T. Naake</span>, of the British Museum.
+With Four Illustrations. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A most choice and charming selection.... The tales have an original national
+ring in them, and will be pleasant reading to thousands besides children. Yet children
+will eagerly open the pages, and not willingly close them, of the pretty volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;English readers now have an opportunity of becoming acquainted with eleven
+Polish and eight Bohemian stories, as well as with eight Russian and thirteen Servian,
+in Mr. Naake&#8217;s modest but serviceable collection of Slavonic Fairy Tales. Its contents
+are, as a general rule, well chosen, and they are translated with a fidelity which deserves
+cordial praise.... Before taking leave of his prettily got up volume, we ought to
+mention that its contents fully come up to the promise held out in its preface.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>STORIES IN PRECIOUS STONES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Helen Zimmern</span>.
+With Six Illustrations. Third Edition. Crown 8vo.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A series of pretty tales which are half fantastic, half natural, and pleasantly quaint,
+as befits stories intended for the young.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A pretty little book which fanciful young persons will appreciate, and which will remind
+its readers of many a legend, and many an imaginary virtue attached to the gems
+they are so fond of wearing.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Post.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="tb" />
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>THE BETTER SELF.</b> By <span class="smcap">J. Hain Friswell</span>. Essays for
+Home Life. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Contents</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
+
+<tr><td>Beginning at Home</td><td>   Pride in the Family</td><td>     Likes and Dislikes</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Girls at Home</td><td>   Discontent and Grumbling &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>  On Keeping People Down</td></tr>
+<tr><td>The Wife&#8217;s Mother &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td>   Domestic Economy</td><td>  On Falling Out Peace</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A high conception, but never severe nor morose; the spirit is as sound and wholesome
+as it is noble and elevated.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A really charming volume of Essays, which gives good advice without becoming a
+bore.&#8217;&mdash;<i>City Press.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BY STILL WATERS.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edward Garrett</span>. A Story for
+Quiet Hours. Crown 8vo. With Seven Illustrations. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;We have read many books by Edward Garrett, but none that has pleased us so well
+as this. It has more than pleased; it has charmed us.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Nonconformist.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Mr. Garrett is a novelist whose books it is always a pleasure to meet. His stories
+are full of quiet, penetrating observations, and there is about them a rare atmosphere of
+not unpleasing meditative melancholy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>BEATRICE AYLMER, AND OTHER TALES.</b> By
+<span class="smcap">Mary M. Howard</span>, Author of &#8216;Brampton Rectory.&#8217; Crown 8vo.
+6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;These tales possess considerable merit.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Court Journal.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A neat and chatty little volume.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Hour.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>OUR PLACE AMONG INFINITIES.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard A.
+Proctor</span>, B.A., Author of &#8216;Saturn and its Systems,&#8217; &#8216;The Universe,&#8217;
+&#8216;The Expanse of Heaven,&#8217; &amp;c. To which are added, &#8216;Essays on
+Astrology&#8217; and &#8216;The Jewish Sabbath.&#8217; Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>THE EXPANSE OF HEAVEN.</b> A Series of Essays on the
+Wonders of the Firmament. By <span class="smcap">Richard A. Proctor</span>, B.A.
+With a Frontispiece. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A very charming work; cannot fail to lift the reader&#8217;s mind up &#8220;through nature&#8217;s
+work to nature&#8217;s God.&#8221;&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of thought, readable, and popular.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Brighton Gazette.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>PHANTASMION.</b> A Fairy Romance. By <span class="smcap">Sara Coleridge</span>.
+With an Introductory Preface by the Right Hon. Lord <span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>,
+of Ottery S. Mary. A new Edition. In 1 vol. Crown 8vo. 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>This book, of which the first edition was limited to 250 copies, was
+long out of print, and as now revived appeals to a larger audience and
+a new generation. They will find in this delicate imagination, melody
+of verse, clear and picturesque language, and virginal purity of conception.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>&#8216;The readers of this fairy tale will find themselves dwelling for a time in a veritable
+region of romance, breathing an atmosphere of unreality, and surrounded by supernatural
+beings.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;This delightful work.... We would gladly have read it were it twice the length,
+closing the book with a feeling of regret that the repast was at an end.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Vanity Fair.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;A beautiful conception of a rarely gifted mind.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>ECHOES OF A FAMOUS YEAR.</b> By <span class="smcap">Harriett Parr</span>.
+Crown 8vo. 8<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>The story of the Franco-Prussian War, 1870-71, told mainly for the
+young, but, it is hoped, possessing permanent interest as a record of
+the great struggle.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Miss Parr has the great gift of charming simplicity of style; and if children are
+not interested in her book, many of their seniors will be.&#8217;&mdash;<i>British Quarterly Review.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1">POETICAL GIFT BOOKS.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>LYRICS OF LOVE</b>, from Shakespeare to Tennyson. Selected
+and arranged by <span class="smcap">W. Davenport Adams</span>, Jun. Fcap. 8vo. cloth
+extra, gilt edges, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+<p>The present work differs from previous collections of the kind in these
+particulars: (1) That it consists entirely of short lyric poems. (2) That
+each poem exhibits some phase of the tender passion, and (3) That it
+includes specimens of the genius of the latest as well as of the earliest
+writers.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>HOME SONGS FOR QUIET HOURS.</b> By the Rev. Canon
+<span class="smcap">R. H. Baynes</span>, Editor of &#8216;Lyra Anglicana,&#8217; &amp;c. Second Edition.
+Fcap. 8vo. Cloth extra, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>A Collection of Hymns and Sacred Songs for the help and solace of the
+various members of Christ&#8217;s Church Militant here on earth.</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;A tasteful collection of devotional poetry of a very high standard of excellence.
+The pieces are short, mostly original, and instinct, for the most part, with the most ardent
+spirit of devotion.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Standard.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>POEMS.</b> By <span class="smcap">William Cullen Bryant</span>. Red-line Edition. Handsomely
+bound. With 24 Illustrations and Portrait of the Author.
+7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>A Cheaper Edition, with Frontispiece. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>These are the only complete English Editions sanctioned by the Author,
+and they contain several of the Author&#8217;s Poems which have not appeared in
+any previous Collection.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Of all the poets of the United States there is no one who obtained the fame and
+position of a classic earlier, or has kept them longer than William Cullen Bryant.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Academy.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>ENGLISH SONNETS.</b> Collected and Arranged by <span class="smcap">John Dennis</span>.
+Fcap. 8vo. Elegantly bound. 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p>
+
+
+<p>This Collection of Sonnets, arranged chronologically from the Elizabethan
+to the Victorian era, is designed for the students of poetry, and not only
+for the reader who takes up a volume of verse in order to pass away an
+idle hour. The Sonnet contains, to use the words of Marlowe, &#8216;infinite
+riches in a little room.&#8217;</p>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;An exquisite selection, a selection which every lover of poetry will consult again and
+again with delight. The notes are very useful.... The volume is one for which English
+literature owes Mr. Dennis the heartiest thanks.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Spectator.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="ph1"><i>W. C. BENNETT&#8217;S POEMS. NEW EDITIONS.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">A Library Edition.</span> Crown 8vo. Illustrated, cloth 6<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p><b>BABY MAY</b>&mdash;HOME POEMS and BALLADS. People&#8217;s Edition,
+in Two Parts, paper covers, 1<i>s.</i> each.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;One of the most popular of our poets. Let us say that every mother
+ought to learn &#8220;Baby May&#8221; and &#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; off by heart.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Westminster Review.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;The love of children few poets of our day have expressed with so
+much na&iuml;ve fidelity as Dr. Bennett.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Those readers who do not as yet know &#8220;Baby May&#8221; should make
+her acquaintance forthwith; those who have that pleasure already will find
+her in good company.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Guardian.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Many a tender thought and charming fancy find graceful utterance in
+his pages.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Athen&aelig;um.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;&#8220;Baby&#8217;s Shoes&#8221; is worthy to rank with &#8220;Baby May,&#8221; which, from
+its completeness and finished charm as a picture of infancy, is one of the
+most exquisite among Dr. Bennett&#8217;s productions.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Some of his poems on children are among the most charming in the
+language, and are familiar in a thousand homes.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Weekly Dispatch.</i></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p><b>SONGS FOR SAILORS.</b> Cloth gilt, Illustrated, 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; paper
+covers, 1<i>s.</i></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8216;Spirited, melodious, and vigorously graphic&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Post.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Very spirited.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Daily News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Really admirable.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Right well done.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Illustrated London News.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Sure of a wide popularity.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Morning Advertiser.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Songs that sailors most enjoy.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Echo.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Full of incident and strongly expressed sentiment.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Examiner.</i></p>
+
+<p>&#8216;We may fairly say that Dr. Bennett has taken up the mantle of
+Dibdin.&#8217;&mdash;<i>Graphic.</i></p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center">HENRY S. KING &amp; CO., London.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER&#8217;S NOTES:</p>
+
+
+
+<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
+</div></div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO CHRISTMAS STORIES: SAM FRANKLIN'S SAVINGS-BANK; A MISERABLE CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR ***</div>
+<div style='text-align:left'>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
+be renamed.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
+States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG&#8482;
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
+the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
+of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
+copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
+easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
+of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
+Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
+do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
+by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
+license, especially commercial redistribution.
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br />
+<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br />
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span>
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+To protect the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &#8220;Project
+Gutenberg&#8221;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
+or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.B. &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&#8220;the
+Foundation&#8221; or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg&#8482; work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country other than the United States.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work (any work
+on which the phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; appears, or with which the
+phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+  <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+    other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+    are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
+    of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
+  </div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase &#8220;Project
+Gutenberg&#8221; associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg&#8482; License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg&#8482;.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; License.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work in a format
+other than &#8220;Plain Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg&#8482; website
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original &#8220;Plain
+Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg&#8482; works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+provided that:
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'>
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &bull; You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+        the use of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works calculated using the method
+        you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+        to the owner of the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, but he has
+        agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+        within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+        legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+        payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+        Section 4, &#8220;Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+        Literary Archive Foundation.&#8221;
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &bull; You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+        you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+        does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+        License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+        copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+        all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+        works.
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &bull; You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+        any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+        electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+        receipt of the work.
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &bull; You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+        distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works.
+    </div>
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
+the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
+forth in Section 3 below.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain &#8220;Defects,&#8221; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &#8220;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&#8221; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &#8216;AS-IS&#8217;, WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg&#8482;&#8217;s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg&#8482; collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg&#8482; and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation&#8217;s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state&#8217;s laws.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Foundation&#8217;s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
+Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
+to date contact information can be found at the Foundation&#8217;s website
+and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
+public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
+visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
+facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This website includes information about Project Gutenberg&#8482;,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/asterism.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/asterism.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3877d4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/asterism.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/bennetts.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/bennetts.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67f30b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/bennetts.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b1dd045
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/frontis.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/frontis.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7f1e25
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/frontis.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/image007.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/image007.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..336a1e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/image007.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/image028.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/image028.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98f6d33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/image028.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/image029.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/image029.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..352b1d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/image029.jpg
diff --git a/old/65830-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/old/65830-h/images/titlepage.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..313656d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/65830-h/images/titlepage.jpg
author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-22 21:08:59 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-22 21:08:59 -0800
commit	ad8a1dcdf542a913f67ea46ff9bccee49686ec0c (patch)
tree	db920c90233a48bc413e2342641d386e3f79854f
parent	82e35b6f2c858850202b41b7a07b1aa69c5c483d (diff)