CHAPTER XV.
_WHERE ONE PUDDING WENT._
Agnes was one of those girls who loved to be a true elder sister. Many atime, when she sat down to tell a story, she would have preferred tobury herself in an interesting book, or to go on with a piece ofpainting, or delicate needlework; but by experience she had learned theblessedness of giving rather than taking pleasure, and her restlessbrothers interested for an hour, or Alice's and Minnie's hearts warmedand stirred up by a story, was, in her estimation, somethingaccomplished for her Lord and Master.
So when the day after Christmas-day dawned, and found them all a littleout of sorts, with later hours, and more excitement than usual, she tookthe opportunity to gather them together to hear the account of where thepuddings went, and how they were received.
John threw himself into an arm-chair with a yawn, Hugh stretchedhimself on the sofa with his face downwards, while Alice and Minnie saton the hearthrug resting their heads against her knee.
Agnes was not offended at her brothers' positions, knowing that theirfatigued dulness meant no disrespect to her, and would soon change tointerest in her narration when once she began.
"Ahem!" said Hugh.
"Now don't, Hugh, I am going to begin; but I must have time to collectmy thoughts."
"I shall be asleep then," he answered. "Agnes, why do you choose such amorning to tell us? we can't do justice to you."
For answer, Agnes only smiled and began.
* * * * *
"'Bother the children, they are in my way from morning to night! Not abit of peace. And how I'm to do to-morrow I don't know any more thannobody!'
"The words were spoken by a woman who looked inexpressibly worried andtired. The room was small, the children were many, the fire was poor,and the cold was severe. As she spoke she pushed one child into onecorner, another into another; she hustled a big clumsy boy away from thelittle fire, and she swept down some poor little playthings off thetable on to the floor with a sharp rattle which betokened a breakage ofa toy, such as it was.
"A bitter cry from a little pale boy, to whom this small plate hadbelonged, arrested the mother's attention for a moment, but only to addto her exasperation.
"'Stop yer crying,' she exclaimed, 'or I'll stop yer!' and the littlefellow swallowed down his tears as best he might, and wiped the rest onhis sleeve, as he bent down to gather his little sticks together,picking up the remains of his one doll's plate, which had enabled him tohave imaginary dinners and teas in his play for many a day.
"The children saw that they had better make themselves scarce, andthough a keen east wind and sleet raged outside on this Christmas-eve,most of them turned out into the narrow street till tea should be ready.
"When, through the uncurtained window, they could see from theirmother's movements that they might venture in, they gladly once moreentered the little untidy room.
"Their mother had cut them each two slices of bread and dripping, and tothis they sat down with ravenous appetites. Alas! much too soon were thepieces demolished, and the crumbs picked up off the comfortless baretable.
"'Ain't there any more?' asked the elder boy.
"'No, there ain't,' said his mother sharply; all the more sharply thatshe would have given anything to have been able to say yes instead ofno.
"The big boy looked disappointed enough, and shuffled his feet aboutdiscontentedly.
"'What have yer got for dinner to-morrow?' he asked.
"'Usual fare,' said his mother; 'there ain't nothing but breadnow-a-days, and not too much of that.'
"An ominous silence brooded over the only half-satisfied children, andthe mother rocked the baby to and fro with a look on her face which wasboth sad and hopeless.
"'Why don't we have something nice, even if father's work is short? Whenit's plenty I should ha' thought we might ha' saved a bit,' grumbled theeldest.
"'Save!' exclaimed the poor mother, 'why, if we've got it, you know yeeat it, and if we ain't got it, we go without.'
"'Well, I don't like not having 'nuff to eat,' said the big boy vexedly.'I brings home all I earns, and it ain't fair.'
"'And how much have you earned _this_ week?' asked his mother crossly.
"'Well, look at this weather, for yer,' answered he; 'how can us earnwhen no one won't build at any price?'
"'Then shut up,' answered the tired mother, 'and wait for better times.'
"She rose, and prepared to put the baby to bed. The eldest little girlwashed up the few cups, while the boys began an undertoned game attickling each other, which soon resulted in laughter and subdued noise.This brought down on them a sharp reprimand from their mother, andfinally a box on the ears all round.
"Somewhat quieted, but in no good humour, they retired into a corner,and proceeded to cut up some pieces of wood which their brother's tradesupplied them with. They could muster but one knife between them, but aboy cautiously crept to the cupboard and abstracted one belonging to thehousekeeping, the rest watching their mother's head lest she shoulddiscover the act of disobedience; for such it was in this little home,where a lost knife would be a serious misfortune.
"At last the baby was carried upstairs for the night, and the motherdescended with her hands free for the time.
"'Off to bed you go,' she said to the next three, who were crowding overthe little fire.
"There was no objection for once, but just as the little girl of tenyears old was taking the lamp to light them to bed a knock came at thedoor and startled them all.
"The girl set down the light and opened the door.
"'Why if it ain't Miss Agnes Headley;' said the mother. 'Come in, miss,do.'
"'No thank you, I have only come to bring you a little present forChristmas, and I hope you will have a happy day,' said Miss Headley.
"The big boy jumped up in a moment, and took it from her, with a 'thankye, miss,' which meant a great deal; but Miss Headley did not wait, andthey closed the door from the bitter wind, while all crowded round thetable in anxious expectation.
"At the top of the parcel was an immense Christmas pudding, of a size tosatisfy the appetites of even that numerous party. On it was pinned apaper with these words written: 'This pudding is cooked, but must beboiled for an hour and a half to warm it through. The cloth is for you.'
"A shout of pleasure was forced from the delighted family as they viewedtheir promised treat.
"Under the pudding, which had been wrapped up in a whole newspaper, layan old jacket, a comforter, a worn pair of trousers, and a frock for thegirl of ten. Last of all was a piece of stout paper on which someone(Hugh Headley I think) had painted these words: 'Come unto Me, all yethat labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'
"On the back of this was written, 'Please pin this up on the wall for aChristmas text.'
"The eldest boy produced two or three nails, and had put it over themantelshelf before they could say a word, and then, as the motherreminded them the pudding would come all the sooner for going to bed,they took her advice and disappeared, all but the big boy, who hungbehind to say, 'I'm mortal hungry, mother, I suppose you ain't got acrust?'
"Half an hour before she would have answered 'no' hastily enough, butthere were tears in her eyes as she handed him the bit of bread whichwas to have served for her supper, as she said:
"'I'm sorry, boy, it's all so short, but you know what yer boots costlast week, and you can't have everything.'
"'Good-night, mother,' he said, stooping to give her a rough kiss; 'butit _is_ hard to be hungry.'
"When the little door had closed upon her children the mother sat downin a chair with her hands drooping in her lap. Then she wiped away theunwonted tears as she looked round at the package on the table, and thenback at the bright text in front of her. It was that text which hadsoftened her heart, and made her cry. It was that text which hadsuddenly reminded her of old days when she had thought more of thesethings than she did now.
"'Come unto Me, all ye that are heavy laden.
'
"The tired, worried, over-wrought mother buried her face in her hands.Long she sat and wept.
"'I thought He had forgotten me,' she whispered. And then she rose upand made the room ready for the father, repeating softly to herself allthe while, 'I will give you rest, I will give you rest.'
"After some time, much later than she had expected, the well-knownfootstep was heard at the door.
"The mother knew before the father entered that the foot bore a morecheerful sound than had been of late, and his words corroborated herthought.
"'Well, wife, so here you are all alone! Why, so they're all gone toroost!'
"To get the sooner to Christmas-day," answered the mother, her eyesfalling, as his did, on the table scattered over with the things theyhad received.
"They needed very little explanation, and meanwhile the father wasfumbling in his pocket for something, which he now laid on the table byhis wife.
"'That's my share for to-morrow,' he said. 'I stayed out all these hourson the chance of a job, and at last I got one. A gentleman couldn't geta cab nohow, everything's engaged on this wet night, to say nought ofits being Christmas; so I carried his heavy portmanteau nigh on fourmiles, and he gave me this half-crown. And now I want my supper, wife.'
"The mother rose quickly and stirred the little fire. Already the kettleboiled, and the cup was set on the table with perhaps, unusual care. Butthe fare was indeed scant--a piece of bread cut off for the fatherbefore she had begun for the children and a bit of dripping. Meanwhileshe was hastily putting on bonnet and shawl.
"'Where to?' asked he, surprised; 'there ain't no hurry to get a bit ofmeat. The butchers will be open for hours yet; so sit still for once.'
"'I shan't be a minute,' she said, and was gone before he could object.
"It was not much more ere she appeared again, bringing in her hand alarge loaf, and a herring which she immediately placed on the fire,while she cut some fresh slices of the day-old bread, with a heartfilled with pleasure that she had it to give him.
"'I've been looking at yon words,' he said, 'and they seem to say to meas we haven't thought so much of Him as we should, eh, old woman? Wecouldn't have a better day nor to-morrow to begin, eh?'
"'I've begun to-night,' she said. 'I've forgot Him lately, but He ain'tforgot me!'"
* * * * *
Alice looked up now, as Agnes finished her narration, and saidwonderingly, "I can't think how you know it, Agnes."
"I will not keep you in suspense then," she answered. "Mrs. Freeman cameround early on Christmas-day to thank us for the things, and in a fewsimple words explained her despair and her comfort, and how the words,'Come unto _Me_,' had put a new life before her, a life of rest andpeace, even in the midst of outward turmoil. Our little effort for her,you see, did even more than we could have hoped."
"Have you any more stories?" asked Hugh.
"Not to-day. Minnie and I saw other things, but you will have to waitfor those till we have another opportunity."