Agnes Giberne

“ It was very cold, and Job Kippis had lighted a good fire. Little Lettie had crept up there for warmth, knowing herself to be welcome, for the Forsyths had almost no fire that day, and as Ailie crouched down by the small grate with her tiny companion, she wondered much, in the thoughtful fashion of a child who has seen little of careless childhood, where she would be at that time on the morrow, for "mother" would be penniless and friendless, without work and without a home. ”

“ The very same—Josie had no doubt about that. Face and hands indeed were cleaner, and the ragged frock had been carefully patched; but she was just as thin, just as hollow-checked, just as miserable, just as much a picture of want, as when Josie had last come across her.
"Why," Josie exclaimed involuntarily, "you're the very same little girl that was starving that day,—ever so long ago."
"I'm starvin' now," said Ailie, speaking feebly, though with a gleam of recognition.
"But if you are always starving, how is it that you never get quite starved?" asked Josie. ”

“ Josie paused, and looked grave, before continuing, "Yes, I know she will help you. It always makes her so unhappy to see any little girl hungry. That is the only reason I don't like you to come to the house. But you must come, and we'll give you something to eat before she sees you, and then you won't look so pinched. I wish I had a penny here, but I haven't."
"Nor I neither, so it's no good looking at me," said nurse. "Shows how much you think of your mamma's feelings, Miss Josie,—taking to her a child like that. When you know it'll make her think of Miss Vi, and she'll cry." ”

“ And you know how like to me Vi was always considered. She has hardly changed in the least—only so thin and white, my poor little precious one. To think she should have been living near, and I to know nothing about it! But there is no possibility of a mistake. I know—I am certain it is her. Vi! Vi! How am I to get my child?"
"Mother, if you excite yourself so much, I shall not dare to talk to you on the subject," said Leveson. "I am afraid you will make yourself ill. Try to be quiet, while Josie tells me how it came about. Tell me all you know about the little girl, dear." ”

“ If poor mother could but come to help her! Ailie felt so utterly alone. Nobody in all the world to care for her, except mother, away for two months in jail—nobody else except the Forsyths, and she dared not go near them, for they would only send her to the workhouse. Ailie was so desolate that she wanted to cry, but somehow tears would not come, and the dry sobs which she could not check made her feel worse and worse. ”

“ Esther shook her head.
"Ye've been on the tramp all day, and you're fit for nothin' but sleep. I'll go with Ailie myself."
"You've been nigh as long on the tramp yourself, mother."
"A boy's little use in a sick-room," said Esther. "Get to bed, Lettie and Roger—an' you too, Hor. I'll be back when I can."
Taking the child's hand in her own, she left the room again, and Ailie went submissively, though trembling. Down one flight of stairs after another they made their way, Esther walking more steadily now, perhaps strengthened by her little taste of supper. ”

“ Esther looked at Ailie, and Ailie cowered in renewed fear.
"Oh, don't ye—don't ye send me back," she entreated. "I'll let him have my bread. I won't be in nobody's way. I'll sleep on the stairs, ever so quiet. Oh, don't ye send me back."
"'Twould be cruel to send her alone," said Esther. "A bit of a child like that—and he dyin'."
John's assent was a monosyllable. Poor, hopeless, weary, they might be themselves; nevertheless, that they should help a neighbour in his sorer trouble was but a thing of course. ”

“ Very wrong," said Leveson, resting his arm on the back of Josie's chair. "It is wrong to steal, and wrong to tell lies, and wrong to covet, and wrong to give way to temper. None of us are perfect."
"But it isn't so bad to get into a passion, as it would be to steal," said Josie, with a guilty look up from under her eyelashes. ”

“ It was a very happy time that Josie spent. She walked through the galleries of beautiful paintings, wondering much why Leveson admired so many which she thought ugly, and why he spoke so slightingly of those which she thought lovely.
"Wait till you are older," he said, smiling, when she asked an explanation. "Your taste in pictures has to be trained and taught, like every other part of your mind. It seldom comes naturally." ”

“ Talking to a dirty little street girl, coming from no one knows where."
"She's starving, nurse," said Josie.
"They're every man, woman, and child of them starving all the year round, if you'll believe them," said nurse contemptuously. "Miss Josie, come on this minute."
"I wish I had my penny," sighed Josie. "I do wish I hadn't bought that doll. Nurse, couldn't the little girl come home for my other penny—and wouldn't that buy her a roll, and keep her from starving?"
"No, indeed," said nurse wrathfully. "Telling strange beggar-children to come to our house, indeed! ”

“ That's like the poor little girls in story-books," added the child to herself.
"I'm so hungry," whispered Ailie, hanging her head.
"Why don't you go home to tea?" asked the little girl.
"I've nowhere to go," said Ailie, in a choked voice.
"Why, where do you live?"
"I've been under the stairs all night, an' they wants to send me to the work'us—and, oh! I don't want to go," sobbed Ailie, with catches in her breath.
"Won't they give you anything to eat?" asked the other child, gravely.
"There's nobody. Father's dead, an' mother—an' mother—"
"Is your mother dead too?"
"They've put her in jail." ”

“ Crime must be punished; but we must not be like the Pharisee, Josie—'I thank Thee that I am not as other men are.' Better one and all of us to say humbly before God—'Be merciful to me a sinner.'"
Josie sat thoughtfully for a minute, and then finished her bread and preserve without a word.
"I know what," she said, getting up after tea. "I'll get nurse to take me that very same walk every day for a week, and look out for the little girl."
"A good plan," said Leveson, and he heard no more till Mrs. Therlock had left the room, when Josie came to his side. ”

“ Hungry, fasting, friendless, he might be still, but the light of heaven's peace had returned, and Job smiled brightly once more, for in the depths of his heart he could say, "I KNOW that my Redeemer liveth." ”

“ But if I cried so as to make myself ill—wouldn't you come then?"
"I think I should send the doctor," said Leveson. He sat down and took Josie within his arm. "I have been very busy, Josie; still I have not forgotten my promise to my pet."
"You always are busy," said Josie. "I don't see why all the poor children in London are always to come before me."
"Which stands in the most need of help?"
"I think I do," said Josie decidedly, "because I haven't one single little girl to play games with me, and the poor children have hundreds." ”

“ No such Heavenly light shone in upon the Forsyth's dreary home as would have come from trust in a Heavenly Father's watchful love. If the good seed had ever been sown in Esther's heart, the pressing cares of poverty had long ago stifled its growth, and smothered out the germ of life. ”

“ The question came almost fiercely from between his parted lips, through which the labouring breath passed to and fro.
"'Tis little we poor folks has to do with heaven," she said.
"It's little you know," responded Jem Carter. "Wasn't it the poor, an' not the rich—somebody said. But I minds nothin' now. It's all gone. An' there's no one to say a word—an' I'm dyin'."
"Can't ye tell him what he wants?" sobbed Ailie.
"Can't nobody tell?"
"Can't nobody tell?" echoed the dry failing lips. "Mrs. Forsyth, can ye mind nothin' o' what I once heard?" ”

“ Then, after a minute or two,—"Do you know, Leveson, it was just there I saw that poor little starving girl—the very day you promised to take me on the river."
"Poor little girl," said Leveson.
"I wonder if she did starve?" remarked Josie. "I made nurse bring me a great many times along here, until I was tired of the walk; but I never saw her again. I am so afraid she must have starved to death."
"I trust not. It would be a terrible thing."
"Yes, it must be very dreadful to be so hungry. How fast we are going!" ”

“ Many a half-hour would Job Kippis win her away from her ragged little playmates, to sit by him as he worked, and learn more and more of the "sweet story of old."
Lettie, too, used to creep in and listen with silent interest to the wondrous tale. Sometimes Job taught them both a short text, but this was hard work to both teacher and scholars, and the Bible stories were preferred. Ailie was always the first to grow restless. Quiet Lettie, with her shrinking from rough and boisterous games, and her love of retired corners, would often sit on and listen when Ailie had rushed away. ”

“ Now, Leveson, you've made me say it after all."
"And what was I going to say in answer?"
"You may say it if you like."
"I would rather you should."
"'He that hateth his brother is a murderer,'" said Josie. "But nurse isn't my brother, so when I hated her this afternoon, because she wouldn't let me help the little girl, it wasn't like that."
"I fancy the term may be taken generally, and all mankind are brethren in a sense. But do you never hate any one except nurse?" ”

“ She asked for nothing, and would have left off uncomplainingly, but the hungry eyes were too much for his fortitude, and he gave her as much as he thought good for her.
"Mayn't I wash up?" asked Ailie, seeing him begin to do so. "Mother used to let me help her, ever so long ago—afore we had to pawn everything."
"Why, ye don't know how," said Job, looking down at the child.
"I'd soon learn," responded Ailie, and Job Kippis nodded his head.
"So ye shall, deary, sure enough. Never does nobody no harm to learn. I'm all for learnin', ain't I, when we've means to do it? ”

“ But Miss Vi 'll tell the lady,—won't ye, Miss? I can't say all I ought."
"I'll tell mamma you're glad," said Lettie, adding thoughtfully,—"Ailie, don't you wish ever so much that old gran'father was here?"
"He'd ha' liked the green grass, an' the trees' an' the flowers," said Ailie.
"Mamma says heaven's ever so much beautifuller than the country," said Lettie. "I don't know how, but she says it is."
"Gran'father didn't seem to want to come, 'cause he was afraid he'd learn to love it more than heaven," said Ailie. ”

“ He propped up the broken chair with a piece of wood kept on purpose, and balanced himself upon it, while Ailie took her seat on the foot of the bedstead, and the table stood between them. There was a stale half-loaf upon it, and a tiny piece of butter, and a small battered teapot containing some weak tea. Ailie was sure she had never tasted so delicious a meal in all her life, and Job would not stint her, though he took less than usual himself, to make up for her ravenous appetite. ”

“ Leveson leant forward, and kissed away the tears affectionately. "You know what the Bible says, Josie, so I won't press that point. Of course it means in spirit, not in deed. I only wanted you to see that we may commit sins ourselves, quite as black in the sight of God, as those which may seem worst in the eyes of men. ”

“ Little girl sent in Ailie's stead,—why 'twas Lettie Forsyth."
"Lettie Forsyth!" repeated Leveson. "Who are her parents?"
"Well, now I comes to think of it, sir, I've heard as she ain't got none. But she be for all the world like to their own child."
"Will you kindly direct me to the Forsyths' rooms?" said Leveson, and he followed her up the staircase, on which numerous children sat and crawled, played and quarrelled; one and all pausing to stare in amazement at the well-dressed stranger as he passed. ”

“ She only keeps just as melancholy. It isn't as if we could do any good—to Vi, I mean—by staying."
"Mother lives upon hope, Josie, and we must not try to destroy that hope, however small its foundation. Come, be a brave little woman, and make the best of things. ”

“ Children had been called in from the dirty courtyard where they played all day, and had been consigned to the respective heaps of rags or straw which formed their beds. Many men yet lingered at the public-house, not far distant, striving to drown care and misery for a while, by a means which sunk themselves and their families day by day into yet deeper degradation. ”

“ Sure I haven't got palace tastes, nor palace ways,—an' little Lettie's in a grand house, and she haven't got grand house tastes, nor ways neither, eh?"
"She will learn all that by and by," said Leveson, stroking her head. "But I think Lettie's difficulty makes another picture for you if you want one. Do you see it?"
"Sure an' I do, sir. Why, if a man was took right to heaven, without learnin' to have heaven's tastes, he wouldn't be a bit happier nor fitter nor better off than old Job Kippis in the Queen's palace. ”

“ There's Heaven waitin' for me, an' angels' food. Maybe if I'd more, I'd love this world too much. I don't love it now. It's Heaven I wants. Maybe then it'd be earth I'd want."
"It's some'at nice on earth I want," said Hor.
"An' ye might have it, if ye'd take it. Some'at nice! What's nicer than to have the Lord smilin' down on ye from heaven, an' helping you with His strong arm, an' givin' ye peace an' joy in your heart? How's it all to be got, Ailie?"
Ailie thought a moment, and said—"Ain't it by believin' Him, gran'father?" ”

“ He don't drive His sheep, but He walks along in front, an' they loves Him so much they walks after Him. And don't He lead 'em to nice cool waters and green grass?" added Job, smiling.
"'Tain't in London, then," said Ailie shrewdly. "We've got no green grass here, 'cept it's away in them park places, as mother said she'd been to once."
"I'd like to tell ye a deal about it," said Job. "I'd like to see ye one o' His lambs, Ailie."
"I ain't a lamb—I'm a girl," said Ailie.
"I'd like to see ye one o' his lambs," repeated Job. "I'm one of the old sheep o' the flock, Ailie." ”