Better than Play Part 17
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For Aunt Maggie there was a little vase that they had bought in Norton for her; for their father the slippers, and for Aunt Emma the shawl, and they all seemed quite overcome to think there were such nice presents lurking in those branches for them.
Then came what were surprises even to Bella,--Joan Adamson's presents, which she had not even felt through the wrappings. The little lady must have thought the matter out very carefully, for she had sent to each exactly what they wanted. For Margery there was a doll, fully dressed, even to the little laced boots that could be taken off and laced on again.
For Tom there was a fine big book with pictures of s.h.i.+pwrecks and fights and wonderful adventures. For Charlie there was a strong clasp-knife, which made him, for the first time, cease to envy his father.
While for Bella there was the prettiest little brooch she had ever seen.
It was only a little frosted silver daisy with a yellow eye, but to Bella, who had never possessed but one brooch, and that an old one of her mother's, which she was afraid to wear, it was perfect, and filled her with rapture. For Aunt Emma there was a nice jet hat-pin, and for their father two white handkerchiefs.
No little Christmas-tree that ever existed could have given more pleasure than that one did, and even after it was relieved of its burden of presents, the children could not tear themselves away from gazing at it, until the candles had burnt right down in their sockets, and there was no light left to gaze by.
With a sigh of regret that the joy of it was over, they all turned away, but only to gather round the fire, as happy a little party as one could find that Christmas Day. The mingled scent of the flowers and the fir-tree made the kitchen sweet, the pretty gla.s.s toys on the little tree caught the light of the fire and flashed back its glow. Father put on his warm slippers, and Aunt Emma her ap.r.o.n and little shawl, Charlie dropped on the rug before the fire to examine his knife again by its light, and Margery sat at her father's feet hugging her doll in an ecstasy of delight.
"Let us have some carols, children, shall we?" said their father presently. "Aunt Emma and I haven't heard any yet, and Christmas doesn't seem perfect without a few carols."
So on they sat in the firelight and sang all they could remember, one after the other, until at last the fire died down, and the room grew dark.
"I think it is time now to light the lamp and see about having some tea,"
said Aunt Emma, rising from her chair. "What does every one say to that?"
"I don't know that I want any tea, but I should like the lamp to be lighted," said Margery, with a deep sigh of pleasure; "for, though I know what my doll feels like, I can't say I have seen her properly yet.
But I've been busy all the time, I've been thinking about a name for her, and I've made up my mind that I'm going to call her 'Christmas.'"
CHAPTER XI.
A STEP FORWARD.
"Aunt Maggie," said Bella, "what does that line in the Carol mean, 'And hear the angels sing'?"
It was the day after Christmas, and Bella was having tea with Mrs.
Langley. For a moment Aunt Maggie sat gazing thoughtfully into the fire.
"I ain't very clever at putting things into words," she said at last, "but I think what it means is, that we must stop every now and then from thinking only of the worries and troubles of life, and the hard work, and the squabbles and disappointments, and let our thoughts dwell instead on what is beautiful and good--on G.o.d, Who has done so much for us, and Jesus, Who died for us. We must think of the beautiful things that G.o.d gives us every day, the birds and the flowers, and the children, and our homes and friends. If we do that, we shall be strong and hopeful, and there will be many glad hours for us, when we shall hear the angels'
voices in our hearts."
"I think I understand," said Bella gravely. "We have had lots of trouble, but we have had lots of nice things too. I like to stop and think about it all; don't you, Aunt Maggie? It makes one feel happy and glad."
"Yes, dear, and it is always wonderful, when looking back over the past, to see the way G.o.d has led us, and all the experiences we have been through. If we could look ahead, we should be frightened and daunted, probably, but if we put our hands in G.o.d's hand and let Him lead us, and if we take each day as it comes, and each duty, content to do our best, and to do without grumbling the work that He sets us, we shall come through without fear or alarm, and find our way smoother for us than ever we had dared to hope for."
"I suppose every one has some work to do," said Bella; "but it seems as if some people only play."
"Most people have something to do, and a good many find their play harder than work; but it doesn't matter to you or to me or to any one what others have or haven't. G.o.d has given us certain work to do for Him and His people. He can't give the same work to everybody. One has to fill one post, and another another post. It doesn't make it any harder for us that some have very little to do. We aren't any the worse off, are we?"
"No," said Bella.
"In fact, we are better off. If everybody worked, there would be nothing left for those who want to live by their work. If everybody grew flowers, n.o.body would want to buy yours. If you had to make your own boots and clothes, you couldn't make your garden pay as you do. But I see the kettle is boiling, and we'll have some tea, and we won't grumble because we've got to get it ourselves, will we?"
"I'd rather make it myself," said Bella, laughing. "Aunt Maggie, do you know what is going to happen?"
"No. Something nice, I hope, dear?"
"Yes. Father says we'll have a large fowl-house put up, there by the orchard, and we'll keep a whole lot of fowls. Aunt Emma has done so well with them this year. He says he will be able to help with them, chop up their food and feed them, and collect the eggs and wash them and date them."
"Oh, that will be splendid! I know it will be a comfort to him to be doing something, and it will be good for him too. Why, Bella, child, you will be having a stall in the market soon."
Bella coloured, and laughed shyly. "That is one of the things I wanted to manage this year if we could, but perhaps we'll have to wait now.
The fowl-house will cost a good bit, and we must pay for that first."
"Never mind, child. It will soon repay you again, and perhaps by the next Christmas market you will have your stall."
Bella's face was radiant. "Aunt Maggie, I wanted to ask you about something else I want to do. Can't I bottle some of my herbs to sell?
I've got ever so much parsley and mint and sage, and it is only wasting."
"Of course you could! Why ever didn't we think of it sooner?" cried Mrs.
Langley, vexed with herself. "It is the wrong time now; you must gather it before it flowers, but we will take care we don't forget another season, and in the meantime we must collect some nice bottles and corks."
"A stall in the market," said Aunt Maggie to herself, when Bella had run home. "It strikes me that before very long they'll be opening a shop of their own, and right well they deserve to succeed too. It isn't many children of their age could or would support a whole family, and be so happy in their work too."
Though the days were short now, and the hours few when they could work out of doors, the fowl-house was built and tarred and roofed, and fitted with perches before a couple of weeks were past, for the man they called in to help them with the job had little else to do at that time of the year, and there was so little to be done in the garden, the boys were able to help a great deal; and never in their lives had they seen Aunt Emma so pleased as she was with the new fowl-house and run. 'My poultry farm,' she called it, and she was full of plans as to where the chickens were to be kept, and how they were to be fed, and the different kinds she was going to keep; but it is only fair to say that her greatest pleasure lay in the interest her brother took in it all.
The hens were soon installed in their new quarters, and every day the poor invalid collected the sc.r.a.ps of the house and chopped them up, and every night he put the pans of food in the oven to warm, and every day, unless the weather was very bad, he managed to creep out to give the fowls their food and drink, and to collect the eggs. He always washed and marked them and arranged them for market, so that they should look most tempting, putting all the dark brown ones together, and the light brown ones, and the creamy white ones.
"I don't see that there's any call to take all that trouble," Aunt Emma remarked, rather scornfully. "If people want eggs they'll buy them, no matter if they're clean or dirty, brown or white."
"But very often they don't feel that they want them until they see them looking clean and tempting," answered her brother quietly.
"A dirty-looking egg will take away some folks' appet.i.tes, whereas a clean one will make them feel hungry. There was never anything but good done yet by taking a little trouble over things."
Aunt Emma looked unconvinced, but of one thing she could not help being convinced, and that was the good that the work and the interest of it were doing her brother. He no longer worried so cruelly at having to be idle; he felt less depressed, and, as he grew more cheerful, so he grew stronger, and by and by the pain he suffered lessened, and he was able to walk better and do more.
So the months wore away, and March came on them all too quickly, and with each week the work in the garden grew heavier.
"I do believe we shall have to have in a man to help us another year,"
sighed Bella, pausing in her digging, and seating herself on an upturned flower-pot for a rest.
Tom groaned. "And he'll cost more than he earns, most likely," he said soberly.
"Not if----" began Bella; but what she was going on to say was never said, and will never be known now, for at that moment Charlie burst through the gate and along the path in a great state of excitement.
"Guess what I've done! Guess what I've bought! Quick, quick, quick!"
"Rabbits," said Bella; "and if you have, you must keep them shut up or they'll eat everything."
"'Tisn't rabbits. Guess again."
"Pigeons?" guessed Tom.
"A pair of shears?" said Bella.
"A pig?" cried Tom.
Better than Play Part 17
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Better than Play Part 17 summary
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