Betty's Battles Part 1

Betty's Battles.

by S. L. M.

PREFACE

I have derived real pleasure from the reading of "Betty's Battles,"

because I am sure if we can only get it into the hands of other "Bettys," that they will be inspired and helped to take up arms in their own cause, and fight, as Betty did, for the love and peace and orderliness of their own dear homes.

I think a fact is revealed in this story which is not actually transcribed in black and white. It is that the Grandmother--through staying with whom Betty had been so much blessed and helped--bore the same surname as Betty's father. For if she had brought up Betty's mother, I am quite sure there never could have been so much difficulty in the home as was the case when Betty returned from her holiday!

This little book will, I believe, help our Young People to realise their responsibility towards their own homes and their fathers and mothers.

Nothing is more grievous at the present time in many countries where civilisation is most advanced, than the decay of all that which is precious and beautiful in home life. There are many causes which have contributed to this, to which I cannot allude here; but there is one remedy which by the blessing of G.o.d cannot fail. It is that our young women should be enlightened and trained to acknowledge and to carry their responsibilities for that work which G.o.d has committed to women.

Undoubtedly, it is G.o.d's arrangement that women should beautify and adorn the home. A home is an absolute necessity to her; and only by the retirement and protection of a good home, can women ever be fitted to train and mould the nation's youth. As a wise, far-seeing writer has said: "It is not too much to say that the prosperity or adversity of a nation rests in the hands of its women. They are the mothers of the men; they make and mould the characters of their sons, and the centre of their influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, the home. Home is the pivot round which the wheel of a country's highest statesmans.h.i.+p should revolve; the preservation of home, its interests, its duties and principles, should be the aim of every good citizen.... A happy home is the best and surest safeguard against all evil; and where home is not happy, there the Devil may freely enter and find his hands full. With women, and women only, this happiness in the home must find its foundation."

I believe in the successful mission of this little book, and wish it good speed.

Florence E. Booth

_November 1907_

CHAPTER I

"GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE"

"Oh, Grannie, how sweet it all is here! How can I ever go!" cries Betty.

Betty's bag stands by the gate. Betty herself roams restlessly about the little garden, while Betty's Grannie shades her gentle old eyes from the morning suns.h.i.+ne, and peers down the road.

Betty's bag is stout and bulgy; stuffed full of Grannie's home-made goodies, including a big plum-cake, and pots of delicious jam.

Betty herself is not stout at all; indeed, she is rather thin. She came to Grannie's country home, five weeks ago, to grow strong again after a bad illness; but though the moorland breezes have brought colour back to her cheeks, and strength to her long limbs, they have given no plumpness to either.

Betty's Grannie--well, she _is_ Grannie, a true Army Grannie, with a heart large enough to take in everybody's troubles, and a spirit wise enough to find a cure for most of them.

"The carrier's cart is a little later than usual," remarks Grannie, still peering down the road; "but don't worry, you've plenty of time to do the ten miles to the station; and Bob the carrier will see you safe into the express. Of course, your father will meet you when the train arrives, so you've nothing to trouble about, dear."

"Nothing to trouble about!" Betty turns round quickly. "Oh, Grannie, it's leaving _you_ that troubles me so dreadfully--how can I go--how _can_ I, when I'm only just beginning to understand?"

During these five weeks Betty has grown to love her dear good Grannie as she never loved anyone before, for, week by week, day by day, Grannie has been bringing her nearer and nearer to G.o.d.

"Last night, dear child, you gave your heart into the Lord's keeping,"

says Grannie softly, laying a loving hand on the girl's shoulder, "and He is with those who trust Him always, wherever they may go."

"Yes, I know, Grannie; and while I'm with you it seems so easy to do right--and though you are so wise and good, you never get cross with me when I make mistakes, or answer too sharply--but, Oh, it is so different--so very different at home! Whatever shall I do without you?"

And Betty flings her arms round the old woman's neck, and clings to her as though she would never let her go.

"Your home is G.o.d's gift to you, Betty," says Grannie, gravely.

"My home? Grannie, it's _horrid_ at home sometimes! The rooms are so stuffy, and dark, and untidy, and I hate untidy rooms! The children are always quarrelling, and they shout and stamp until my head aches and aches, and mother never seems to care. If only it were pretty and clean and fresh like this place--if only mother were like you!"

But Grannie's face grows graver still.

"Hush, hush, Betty! Indeed, you must not allow yourself to run on in this way. Remember, you have given yourself to G.o.d now, and you must do the work He puts into your hands bravely and well.

"Of course, it is easier to be cheerful and good when there is nothing to try us. Of course, it is easier to carry a light burden than a heavy one. Your father is poor, and there are many little ones. Your mother has struggled through long years of weary work and anxiety. It is your part to be their help and comfort, Betty."

"I will try, indeed, I will; and I'll try to remember all you've told me, all the dear beautiful talks we've had together, and--and last night, Gran."

"That's my own darling!"

"Yes, I'm really going to be good now, and patient, and unselfish, and I'll help mother, and teach the children, and make our home as sweet as your home is. But, Oh, dear Grannie, if you could only see our home--it makes me so cross, for n.o.body even tries to help, and they are all so careless, and snap one up so."

Betty stops short, there is a queer little twinkle in Grannie's eye that is almost like a question.

"Oh, yes, I know. _I_ am snappy sometimes; but they are all so unjust.

When I try to put things straight a bit, Bob is sure to say I've lost some of his books; and, Grannie, it isn't 'interfering' is it to tell people of a thing when you know it's wrong?"

"It may be 'interfering' even to put things straight, dear, unless you are very careful to let love do the seeing, and speaking, and doing.

"Courage, Betty! You were very weak and listless when you came five weeks ago; and your heart was heavy and sad. Now you are my own strong Betty again. And the Lord has come to dwell in your heart and take its sadness away.

"Let Him reign in your heart, Betty; give Him the whole of it. In His strength you will learn to check the 'snappy' words when they rise to your lips; to conquer the discontented thoughts and careless habits. You will learn to be happy and bright, and to make all those around you happy too."

But Betty thinks, "Clearly Grannie doesn't know how horrid things are at home sometimes; if mother would only let me manage altogether it wouldn't be half so difficult."

"The carrier's cart, my child!"

Betty lifts her head from Grannie's shoulder and hastily wipes her eyes.

The cart stops; the bulgy bag, the paper parcel, and big bunch of sweet-smelling, old-fas.h.i.+oned flowers are lifted in. Betty turns to Grannie for the final kiss.

"Remember, dear, the little crosses of daily life, borne bravely and cheerfully for Jesus' sake, will make you a true Soldier, and win a crown of glory by and by," whispers Grannie, as she presses her grandchild in her kind arms.

Betty nods, and then turns her head away very quickly; she dare not trust herself to speak.

The cart moves away. Yes, now, indeed, her holiday is over!

The blue sky, the golden gorse, the fresh, sweet air of the moors, they are still around her, but they belong to her no more.