So saying, Tom was going to suit the action to the word; but the baby did not choose that any one should carry him but his sister, and refused Tom"s kindness. Still he could carry the heavy basket of potatoes for the little girl, which he did as far as their road lay together, when she thanked him, and bade him good-by, and said she could manage very well now, her home was so near. So Tom went into school very happy and peaceful; and had a good character to take home to his mother for that morning"s lesson.
It happened that this very day was the weekly half-holiday, so that Tom had many hours unoccupied that afternoon. Of course, his first employment after dinner was to learn his lessons for the next day; and then, when he had put his books away, he began to wonder what he should do next.
He stood lounging against the door wishing all manner of idle wishes; a habit he was apt to fall into. He wished he were the little boy who lived opposite, who had three brothers ready to play with him on half-holidays; he wished he were Sam Harrison, whose father had taken him one day a trip by the railroad; he wished he were the little boy who always went with the omnibuses,--it must be so pleasant to go riding about on the step, and to see so many people; he wished he were a sailor, to sail away to the countries where grapes grew wild, and monkeys and parrots were to be had for the catching. Just as he was wishing himself the little Prince of Wales, to drive about in a goat-carriage, and wondering if he should not feel very shy with the three great ostrich-feathers always niddle-noddling on his head, for people to know him by, his mother came from washing up the dishes, and saw him deep in the reveries little boys and girls are apt to fall into when they are the only children in a house.
"My dear Tom," said she, "why don"t you go out, and make the most of this fine afternoon?"
"Oh, mother," answered he (suddenly recalled to the fact that he was little Tom Fletcher, instead of the Prince of Wales, and consequently feeling a little bit flat), "it is so dull going out by myself. I have no one to play with. Can"t you go with me, mother--just this once, into the fields?"
Poor Mrs. Fletcher heartily wished she could gratify this very natural desire of her little boy; but she had the shop to mind, and many a little thing besides to do; it was impossible. But however much she might regret a thing, she was too faithful to repine. So, after a moment"s thought, she said, cheerfully, "Go into the fields for a walk, and see how many wild flowers you can bring me home, and I"ll get down father"s jug for you to put them in when you come back."
"But, mother, there are so few pretty flowers near a town," said Tom, a little unwillingly, for it was a coming down from being Prince of Wales, and he was not yet quite reconciled to it.
"Oh dear! there are a great many if you"ll only look for them. I dare say you"ll make me up as many as twenty different kinds."
"Will you reckon daisies, mother?"
"To be sure; they are just as pretty as any."
"Oh, if you"ll reckon such as them, I dare say I can bring you more than twenty."
So off he ran; his mother watching him till he was out of sight, and then she returned to her work. In about two hours he came back, his pale cheeks looking quite rosy, and his eyes quite bright. His country walk, taken with cheerful spirits, had done him all the good his mother desired, and had restored his usually even, happy temper.
"Look, mother! here are three-and-twenty different kinds; you said I might count all, so I have even counted this thing like a nettle with lilac flowers, and this little common blue thing."
"Robin-run-in-the-hedge is its name," said his mother. "It"s very pretty if you look at it close. One, two, three"--she counted them all over, and there really were three-and-twenty. She went to reach down the best jug.
"Mother," said little Tom, "do you like them very much?"
"Yes, very much," said she, not understanding his meaning. He was silent, and gave a little sigh. "Why, my dear?"
"Oh, only--it does not signify if you like them very much; but I thought how nice it would be to take them to lame Harry, who can never walk so far as the fields, and can hardly know what summer is like, I think."
"Oh, that will be very nice; I am glad you thought of it."
Lame Harry was sitting by himself, very patiently, in a neighbouring cellar. He was supported by his daughter"s earnings; but as she worked in a factory, he was much alone.
If the bunch of flowers had looked pretty in the fields, they looked ten times as pretty in the cellar to which they were now carried. Lame Harry"s eyes brightened up with pleasure at the sight; and he began to talk of the times long ago, when he was a little boy in the country, and had a corner of his father"s garden to call his own, and grow lad"s-love and wall-flower in. Little Tom put them in water for him, and put the jug on the table by him; on which his daughter had placed the old Bible, worn with much reading, although treated with careful reverence. It was lying open, with Harry"s horn spectacles put in to mark the place.
"I reckon my spectacles are getting worn out; they are not so clear as they used to be; they are dim-like before my eyes, and it hurts me to read long together," said Harry. "It"s a sad miss to me. I never thought the time long when I could read; but now I keep wearying for the day to be over, though the nights, when I cannot sleep for my legs paining me, are almost as bad. However, it"s the Lord"s will."
"Would you like me--I cannot read very well aloud, but I"d do my best, if you"d like me to read a bit to you. I"ll just run home and get my tea, and be back directly." And off Tom ran.
He found it very pleasant reading aloud to lame Harry, for the old man had so much to say that was worth listening to, and was so glad of a listener, that I think there was as much talking as reading done that evening. But the Bible served as a text-book to their conversation; for in a long life old Harry had seen and heard so much, which he had connected with events, or promises, or precepts contained in the Scriptures, that it was quite curious to find how everything was brought in and dove-tailed, as an ill.u.s.tration of what they were reading.
When Tom got up to go away, lame Harry gave him many thanks, and told him he would not sleep the worse for having made an old man"s evening so pleasant. Tom came home in high self-satisfaction. "Mother," said he, "it"s all very true what you said about the good that may be done without money: I"ve done many pieces of good to-day without a farthing.
First," said he, taking hold of his little finger, "I helped Ann Jones with hanging out her clothes when she was"--
His mother had been listening while she turned over the pages of the New Testament which lay by her, and now having found what she wanted, she put her arm gently round his waist, and drew him fondly towards her. He saw her finger put under one pa.s.sage, and read,--
"Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth."
He was silent in a moment.
Then his mother spoke in her soft low voice:--"Dearest Tom, though I don"t want us to talk about it, as if you had been doing more than just what you ought, I am glad you have seen the truth of what I said; how far more may be done by the loving heart than by mere money-giving; and every one may have the loving heart."
I have told you of one day of little Tom"s life, when he was eight years old, and lived with his mother. I must now pa.s.s over a year, and tell you of a very different kind of life he had then to lead. His mother had never been very strong, and had had a good deal of anxiety; at last she was taken ill, and soon felt that there was no hope for her recovery.
For a long time the thought of leaving her little boy was a great distress to her, and a great trial to her faith. But G.o.d strengthened her, and sent his peace into her soul, and before her death she was content to leave her precious child in his hands, who is a Father to the fatherless, and defendeth the cause of the widow.
When she felt that she had not many more days to live, she sent for her husband"s brother, who lived in a town not many miles off; and gave her little Tom in charge to him to bring up.
"There are a few pounds in the savings-bank--I don"t know how many exactly--and the furniture and bit of stock in the shop; perhaps they would be enough to bring him up to be a joiner, like his father before him."
She spoke feebly, and with many pauses. Her brother-in-law, though a rough kind of man, wished to do all he could to make her feel easy in her last moments, and touched with the reference to his dead brother, promised all she required.
"I"ll take him back with me after"--the funeral, he was going to say, but he stopped. She smiled gently, fully understanding his meaning.
"We shall, may be, not be so tender with him as you"ve been; but I"ll see he comes to no harm. It will be a good thing for him to rough it a bit with other children,--he"s too nesh for a boy; but I"ll pay them if they aren"t kind to him in the long run, never fear."
Though this speech was not exactly what she liked, there was quite enough of good feeling in it to make her thankful for such a protector and friend for her boy. And so, thankful for the joys she had had, and thankful for the sorrows which had taught her meekness, thankful for life, and thankful for death, she died.
Her brother-in-law arranged all as she had wished. After the quiet simple funeral was over, he took Tom by the hand, and set off on the six-mile walk to his home. Tom had cried till he could cry no more, but sobs came quivering up from his heart every now and then, as he pa.s.sed some well-remembered cottage, or thorn-bush, or tree on the road. His uncle was very sorry for him, but did not know what to say, or how to comfort him.
"Now mind, lad, thou com"st to me if thy cousins are o"er hard upon thee. Let me hear if they misuse thee, and I"ll give it them."
Tom shrunk from the idea that this gave him of the cousins, whose companionship he had, until then, been looking forward to as a pleasure.
He was not rea.s.sured when, after threading several streets and by-ways, they came into a court of dingy-looking houses, and his uncle opened the door of one, from which the noise of loud, if not angry voices was heard.
A tall large woman was whirling one child out of her way with a rough movement of her arm; while she was scolding a boy a little older than Tom, who stood listening sullenly to her angry words.
"I"ll tell father of thee, I will," said she; and turning to uncle John, she began to pour out her complaints against Jack, without taking any notice of little Tom, who clung to his uncle"s hand as to a protector in the scene of violence into which he had entered.
"Well, well, wife!--I"ll leather Jack the next time I catch him letting the water out of the pipe; but now get this lad and me some tea, for we"re weary and tired."
His aunt seemed to wish Jack might be leathered now, and to be angry with her husband for not revenging her injuries; for an injury it was that the boy had done her in letting the water all run off, and that on the very eve of the washing day. The mother grumbled as she left off mopping the wet floor, and went to the fire to stir it up ready for the kettle, without a word of greeting to her little nephew, or of welcome to her husband. On the contrary, she complained of the trouble of getting tea ready afresh, just when she had put slack on the fire, and had no water in the house to fill the kettle with. Her husband grew angry, and Tom was frightened to hear his uncle speaking sharply.
"If I can"t have a cup of tea in my own house without all this ado, I"ll go to the Spread Eagle, and take Tom with me. They"ve a bright fire there at all times, choose how they manage it; and no scolding wives.
Come, Tom, let"s be off."
Jack had been trying to sc.r.a.pe acquaintance with his cousin by winks and grimaces behind his mother"s back, and now made a sign of drinking out of an imaginary gla.s.s. But Tom clung to his uncle, and softly pulled him down again on his chair, from which he had risen to go to the public-house.
"If you please, ma"am," said he, sadly frightened of his aunt, "I think I could find the pump, if you"d let me try."
She muttered something like an acquiescence; so Tom took up the kettle, and, tired as he was, went out to the pump. Jack, who had done nothing but mischief all day, stood amazed, but at last settled that his cousin was a "softy."
When Tom came back, he tried to blow the fire with the broken bellows, and at last the water boiled, and the tea was made. "Thou"rt a rare lad, Tom," said his uncle. "I wonder when our Jack will be of as much use."
This comparison did not please either Jack or his mother, who liked to keep to herself the privilege of directing their father"s dissatisfaction with his children. Tom felt their want of kindliness towards him; and now that he had nothing to do but rest and eat, he began to feel very sad, and his eyes kept filling with tears, which he brushed away with the back of his hand, not wishing to have them seen. But his uncle noticed him.