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diff --git a/old/65830-0.txt b/old/65830-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9329801..0000000 --- a/old/65830-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2603 +0,0 @@ -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. 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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. 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