Left to Ourselves; or, John Headley's Promise.

by Anonymous

  CHAPTER VII.

  _LAST DAYS._

  "Isn't it awfully cold for you and mother to travel at this time ofyear, father?" asked Hugh as he buttoned up his warm great coat to setout for school for the last time before the Christmas holidays.

  "Very; but you see, my boy, urgent business calls me; and urgentnecessity calls your mother."

  "Oh, yes! but I wish it were summer. Are you really going on Saturday?"

  "Yes, God willing."

  Hugh went into the hall, where he found his brother brushing his hat.

  "I wonder why father always adds 'God willing,'" he said in anundertone, "so few people do. Do you care about it, John?"

  "Well, I can't say that I've come to doing it myself," answered Johncandidly; "but I do feel this, Hugh, that when they're out on theAtlantic I'd rather know they had _felt_ it was 'God willing,' than thatthey should have acted on their own responsibility."

  Hugh whistled. "You ain't getting preachified I suppose, are you, John?"

  "No; but, all the same, I know when I think a thing's right."

  "So do I; leastways I know when I'm in the right, and that's generally!"

  "Or you think so."

  "Of course; comes to the same thing."

  Hugh had a pleasantly good opinion of himself, which often roused theridicule and annoyance of his brother and sisters; and so before Johnwas aware he found himself caught in an argument which was beginning torasp his temper.

  "Well, I'm off," he said, abruptly turning on his heel, thinking withinhimself that if his promise to Agnes was to be kept during his parents'absence it would be well to begin at once.

  "Beaten off the field?" asked Hugh, laughing, while he turned round togive his mother a passing kiss.

  "Teasing again, my boy," she said gently.

  "Only on the surface, mother," he answered lightly.

  "Do you not think that the surface of a mirror sometimes gets scratched,and cannot reflect back the same perfect image it should?"

  Hugh shook his head. "Mother, I shall be late," he said, turning thehandle of the door, and wishing to escape.

  She smiled archly. "Next week there will be no mother to run away from,so listen, Hugh. Can't you invent some remedy for that tongue of yours?"

  "I wasn't doing a bit of harm, mother, then."

  "But if you _could_ you would be 'able to bridle the whole body.' Thinkof that, Hugh! Can you not make up your mind to try?"

  "All right, mother, I'll see about it."

  "Not in your own strength though, dear."

  He nodded, and seeing that he was let off, he darted through the doorand was gone in a moment.

  Mrs. Headley turned back with a momentary look of pain, then, as ifthose words were whispered in her ear she heard:

  "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thinehand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that,or whether they both shall be alike _good_." And at that word she wentinto the dining-room with a smile on her face, and seated herself at herpreparations with peace in her heart.

  "What are you going to do for poor people this Christmas, mother?" saidMinnie, throwing her arms round her mother's neck in her warm-heartedlittle way.

  Mrs. Headley looked up from the close embrace with a smile, andanswered, "We shall not be able to do very much this year, Minnie; but Ihave not forgotten."

  "I did not think you had, only I do like to know."

  At this moment Agnes entered the room, bearing in her arms a heap ofgarments, which she deposited on the table, saying to her mother, "Thisis all I can find, and they will need a good many stitches."

  "I dare say they will," said Mrs. Headley; "but we must all help."

  Minnie peered curiously at the assortment of clothes, and exclaimed,"Why, there's my old frock, Agnes! Whatever are you going to do withthat?"

  "This is part of what we are going to do for Christmas," said hermother.

  Minnie looked incredulous, and turned over her brother's worn jacketwith the tips of her rosy fingers rather disdainfully.

  Agnes already had seated herself at the table, and was proceeding toexamine each garment with critical eyes.

  Mrs. Headley glanced at the little face opposite her, but made no remarkas she leaned over to reach the old dress, which Minnie thought souseless.

  "This wants a button, Minnie; get the box, and see if there is one likethe others there."

  Minnie sprang up to get it, and was soon engaged in searching for thebutton. "What's it for?" she asked.

  "Some little girl who has a worse one than this."

  "Are there any? I thought this was so very shabby."

  "Plenty, I am sorry to think; but if we get this ready for some one,there will be one less needing a frock."

  "Why is Agnes helping?" asked Minnie, drawing nearer.

  "Because she wants to do something to make Christmas happy to others."

  "Will this make any one happy?" asked Minnie again, her puzzled littleface gradually assuming a more contented look.

  "Should you not think so, if you had a little bare frock just drawntogether with a crooked pin, and hardly covering your shivering littleshoulders?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed," said Minnie, now quite convinced, eyeing her warmthough cast-off frock with fresh interest. "Could I do anything to helpmake it ready?"

  "You can put on the button, and fasten this little bit of hem."

  "Why do you mend all these things? Could not their mothers do it?"

  Mrs. Headley did not answer, so Minnie sat down; and while she put onthe button she pondered the question.

  Meanwhile Mrs. Headley with rapid fingers was darning and patching,aided by Agnes, who sat industriously stitching away, silently buried inher own thoughts.

  At last Minnie exclaimed, "Is this all you are going to do, mother?"

  "No, my dear, we are making some puddings for three or four families."

  "Oh, yes, of course! I knew you would; I do love Christmas."

  "I wonder if Minnie knows or thinks about why we do it?"

  "Because we love the Lord Jesus, I suppose," answered Minnie, looking upfrom her work with her tender little face.

  "Not only that, dear, though that is one reason. Do you remember what wewere reading the other day about dealing our bread to the hungry?"

  "I think I do."

  "And about visiting 'the fatherless and widows in their affliction'?"added Agnes.

  "Oh, yes! but, then, _this_ isn't visiting the fatherless and widows;this is making things at home."

  "Should you like to help me take them when they are done, Minnie?" askedAgnes, looking up.

  "That I should, if I might."

  "You may, then," said her mother; "and I think you will understand theirvalue better after you have been."

  Just then John and Hugh came in from school, and guessing what theirmother and sisters were engaged in, they suddenly disappeared; at whichMrs. Headley did not look surprised, nor did she either when theyre-entered with her rag-bag, a large cardboard box, and a small parcel.

  Minnie threw down her work and jumped up to examine this new marvel;but John, who liked to tease her, kept his intentions to himself, andtaking a pair of scissors, bent down his head into the box, and was soonabsorbed.

  Hugh, who was less particular, opened the parcel, and drew out a pieceof bright-patterned _cretonne_.

  "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed his little sister, leaning over the table."What are you going to do, Hugh?"

  Agnes glanced up, and reminded Minnie of her own work; but she was toobusy in conjecturing what Hugh was about to heed.

  He laid the piece out on the table, folded it in half, and proceeded tothread himself a needle.

  "Are you going to _work_, Hugh?" asked the never-satisfied littlemaiden.

  Hugh nodded, nowise disconcerted at her surprised tone, and soon he hadbegun to sew up the sides, clumsily enough perhaps, but stilleffectually.

  Minnie found work was to be "the order of the day,"
so she relapsed intosilence.

  After an hour's close application, during which time Minnie had watchedwith curious eyes John's hand diving in and out of the rag-bag, Hughpronounced his contribution done, and went over to his brother and askedhim if his were ready. A whispered consultation ensued behind thecardboard box, and then there was some mysterious pushing andmanoeuvring, which raised Minnie's expectation to the last extent. Herbrothers, however, enjoyed keeping up the joke, and there was a finelaugh when they laid a neatly-finished cushion on the table in front ofthe inquisitive little girl.

  "What is in it?" she asked, pinching and pulling it about.

  "Only mother's woollen rags snipped up in tiny pieces," said Hugh.

  "You should not have told her," remarked John; "but I say, don't myfingers ache! and isn't there a blister on my thumb?"

  "Did you cut all that to-day?"

  "No, we have been at the snipping business all the week, off and on, andI declare old Mrs. Hales will not have a bad pillow after all."

  "Where is Alice?" said Hugh.

  "She is doing her part," answered Mrs. Headley; "this is a busy time forcook, and Alice is helping her to make the puddings."

  "When shall we go round, Agnes?" asked Minnie.

  "On Christmas Eve, mother thinks."

  "I wish it were here, then."

  "I do not, for we must finish all this heap of mending first."

  "You'll tell us who you give it to, Agnes, and all about your visits,"said John, who loved a story as much as anyone. "It will make us 'goodboys' when they are gone."

  "Oh, yes," answered Agnes.

  "Then we will wait patiently till then; and if you can think of anythingwe can help in, we are ready, mother, now it is holiday time."

  "I will consider it," she answered, "but while we plan to do somethingfor those in need, let us remember, my dears, one thing."

  The faces were turned affectionately towards the mother, who soanxiously watched over her children, while she said gently, "It is not_only_ that we are to 'visit the fatherless and widows in theiraffliction,' but we are 'to keep ourselves unspotted from the world.'"

  "That's almost harder than the other," said Hugh thoughtfully.

  "Except by 'looking off unto Jesus,'" said Mrs. Headley; "'I can do allthings, through Christ which strengtheneth me.'"