CHAPTER VIII.
FINDING NEW FRIENDS.
Although their hearts were thus sustained by faith in God, the journeyon which Mary and her father now started was a long and painful one.For days they were unable to find a lodging, and the little money withwhich they had started was at last exhausted, and they had no prospectof earning more. Although it was sorely against their will, they wereat last compelled to ask for bread at the hands of charity. Here againthey were made to feel the humiliation of their position; for in goingfrom door to door, seeking for help which they so sorely needed, theymet with scarcely anything but rebuffs, and sometimes indeed withabuse. Often their meal consisted only of a small piece of dry bread,washed down by water from the nearest fountain. A luxury wouldoccasionally come their way in the shape of a little soup or somevegetables, and here and there, some scraps of meat or pastry, given tothem by some kind-hearted housekeeper. After days spent in this way,they were thankful at night to be allowed to sleep in a barn.
Up till now Mary's father had borne up with wonderful courage. One day,however, the distance which they had travelled was longer than usual,and the road which stretched before them seemed endless, unbroken bythe sight of any village or human habitation. Suddenly the old manbegan to feel very weak. His limbs tottered under him, and he fell,pale and speechless, on a heap of dry leaves at the foot of a hillcovered with pine trees.
In great alarm for her father's safety, and overwhelmed with grief,Mary ran hither and thither trying to find water, but in vain. Thinkingthat her voice might be heard by some one in the neighbourhood shecried for help, but the echo alone answered her. As far as she couldsee, in every direction the country was without human habitation.Almost worn out with fatigue, she at last climbed to the top of thehill in order that she might more readily discover any dwelling-placewhere help might be obtained. It was then that she saw just behind thehill a small farmhouse surrounded by green meadows, and shut in onevery side by forest. Hastily running down the hill, she arrived at thecottage out of breath, and with tears in her eyes asked assistance forher old father. The farmer and his wife were kind-hearted people, andwere deeply touched at the sight of Mary's agony.
"Put the horse in the little waggon," said the farmer's wife to herhusband, "and we will bring this sick old man here."
When the horse was harnessed the farmer's wife put two mattresses, anearthen pitcher of water, and a bottle of vinegar into the waggon. Butwhen Mary heard that the waggon would require to go round the hill, andcould not reach her father within half an hour, she took the water andvinegar in her hand, and went by the short road across the hill inorder that she might the sooner minister to her father's needs. Greatlyto her joy, she found that her father had recovered a little and wasnow sitting at the foot of a pine tree. The old man was greatlyrelieved to see his daughter, whose absence had caused him deepanxiety.
In a short time the waggon arrived with the farmer and his wife.Placing James in the waggon they carried him to their home, where theygave him a clean little room, and a closet and a kitchen which werethen unoccupied.
The old man's illness had been caused solely by insufficient food, wantof rest, and the fatigue of the journey. With great kindness, the goodfarmer and his wife, who were poor people, sacrificed some of theirusual luxuries in order that they might have more money to spend on thethings which James required to restore him to his usual health. Forinstance, they had been in the habit of taking a trip every year to afair in a neighbouring village; but when the time came round theyagreed to remain at home that they might save the cost of the journey,and spend the money thus saved in procuring some delicacies to temptthe old man's appetite. At this fresh proof of their kindness, Marythanked them with tears of gratitude in her eyes.
"Oh," said she, "truly there are kind people everywhere, and in themost unlikely places we find compassionate hearts."
During the days when the old man was gradually recovering, Mary watchedconstantly at his bedside. But with the habit of industry which she hadpractised, she filled up these hours with working for the farmer's wifeby knitting or sewing, and as may be imagined, this anxiety to help herbenefactors, added to her modest and winning manner, gave greatpleasure to the kind-hearted peasants.
By and by the care which had been bestowed upon James, and thenourishing food which he had got, began to tell upon him, and soon hewas so far restored as to be able to get up out of bed. As soon as hefelt returning strength, he was desirous of doing something. Resumingtheir old habits, Mary gathered for him branches of willow and hazel,and with these her father made a pretty little basket, which he offeredto the farmer's wife as a small token of gratitude.
When he felt himself quite recovered, he said to his hosts--
"We have been long enough a burden to you. It is time we should go andseek our fortunes elsewhere."
"Why should you leave us, my good James?" said the farmer, taking theold man by the hand. "I hope we have not offended you in any way? Theyear is now far advanced; the winter is at the door. If you have anyhardship again you will certainly be sick."
James warmly assured them that the only motive he had for desiring toleave them was the fear that he and his daughter were burdensome.
"If that is all," said the farmer heartily, "pray do not distressyourself further. The spare room which you occupy prevents you frombeing burdensome to us in the smallest degree, and you gain enough tosupply your wants."
"Yes, that is true," added the farmer's wife. "Mary alone earns enoughwith her needle to support you; and as for you, James, if you wish toexercise your trade of basket-maker, you will have your hands full. Notlong since I took your pretty basket with me to the market, and all thecountrywomen who saw it wished to have one like it. If you like I willprocure customers, and I promise that you will not soon be in want ofwork."
The old man and his daughter were only too glad to remain with theirkind-hearted friends, who expressed themselves as thoroughly pleasedwith the new arrangement.