Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Kitty's lesson
 A kind teacher
 As ye would--so do
 Well done!
 How Jem helped Kitty
 Kitty's reward
 Jem's pleading
 Looking back
 The better way
 Back Cover

Title: For others, or, The golden rule
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00084127/00001
 Material Information
Title: For others, or, The golden rule
Alternate Title: Golden rule
Physical Description: 128, 16 p. : ill. ; 23 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Mason, Charlotte M ( Charlotte Maria ), 1842-1923
Cooke, W. Cubitt ( William Cubitt ), 1866-1951 ( Illustrator )
James Nisbet and Co. (London, England) ( Publisher )
Lorimer and Gillies ( Printer )
Publisher: James Nisbet & Co.
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Lorimer and Gillies
Publication Date: 1896
Subject: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Obedience -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Students -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Teachers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1896   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1896
Genre: Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Statement of Responsibility: by Charlotte M. Mason.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
General Note: Illustrations by W. Cubbitt Cooke.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00084127
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002233970
notis - ALH4387
oclc - 232624802

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Title Page
        Page 4
        Page 5
    Table of Contents
        Page 6
    Kitty's lesson
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
    A kind teacher
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    As ye would--so do
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Well done!
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    How Jem helped Kitty
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    Kitty's reward
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    Jem's pleading
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
    Looking back
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
    The better way
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
    Back Cover
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
Full Text


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As ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them
likewise."-ST. LUKE vi. 31.

"We need not die, we cannot fight;
What may we do for Jesus' sake ?

"There's not a child so small and weak
But has his little cross to take,
His little work of love and praise
That he may do for Jesus' sake."

" ; 0 do to all men as I would they
f should ,. do unto me."
Kitty Turner, a bright-faced little
girl of nine, looked very thoughtful as she
uttered these words of the Catechistm. ,.She was
kneeling on a chair with her elbows on the table,


her chin propped in her hands, in the little
front room of a cottage at the end of'a narrow
lane. The blue eyes were shining with health,
her hair, of a ruddy hue, fell about her neck, and
a white pinafore covered the dark cotton dress.
It was a windy, chilly afternoon, and the sun
rarely peeped out; but the fire burned brightly,
and everything in the room looked cheerful except
Kitty:herself, and she was worried beyond measure.
It was Saturday afternoon, and she was learning
for her Sunday lesson her duty towards her neigh-
bour. Kitty was one of the best scholars in the
school, and very fond of her book; to learn was
no trouble to her-she knew that on the morrow
-she would be able to say her lesson without a
mistake, but to repeat the words like a parrot did
not satisfy her, and she was trying to find out the
meaning of the first sentence shut up in the dusk
of the little parlour all by herself.
"Oh, dear, I wish I knew how stupid I anl,"
-she said, keeping fast hold of the book and turning,
the leaf backwards and forwards.' She read,. it>
"To do to all men as I would they should
do unto me;" and still once more she


repeated-" To do to all men as I would .
they should do unto me."
The sentence was so very long, and just as she
was beginning to get it clear in her mind it
drifted from her again. The words were really
simple enough, but unintelligible to Kitty, and
she wondered if her mother would be scholar
enough to help her. .
In an instant she slipped from her chair and
opened the door.
"Mother, do come here," she cried to a thin,
tidy-looking woman, who was busy ironing the
last of the clean clothes ready to be sent to the
big house on Monday morning.
Mrs. Turner raised her eyes at the sound of
Kitty's voice.
"I can't leave the irons to get cold; -what do
you want?" .
Shb spoke hurriedly, as though impatient at
the interruption.
"I can't understand mygesson, mother."
Vell Iand if you can't, there's no call to fret
and worry about that. What you've got to do is
to get your lessoftoff well, and your teacher will
leaEn,you to-morrow."


"Are you extra busy, mother?"
Kitty's eyes looked despondingly on the fair
white-linen, then she turned and went slowly back
to her book. "How can mother understand these
difficult things," she said to herself, "if she never
has time to think ?" and she wished that her
mother need not be so hard at work from morning
till night. She stood for a few minutes near the
window watching the little sparrows perched on
the bare twigs of the opposite hedge, then, she
reached down a wooden box from the manitel-
shelf, and drew her stool up to the fire to warm
her toes.
To do to all men as I would they should
do unto me."
She shut her catechism book, and repeated the
words over and over again. "Yes, teacher will
explain it to-morrow;" she said, brushing her hair
back from her white forehead, and opening 'the .
little box by.. her side. Out of the box she took .:"
a print bag, which she emptied, and on her knee
fell numbers of little cards-red, white, and blue.
-.Thev were her Sunday-school tickets; red were
for attendance, the white for conduct, anid the
blue for lessons.

-~ ** I.


For. some minutes Kitty never looked up, she
was intent in counting them, and laying them in
little -heaps according to their colours; then she
leaned back and surveyed them with glad eyes.
Yes! they were all there, fifty-one of each; she
had not missed one Sunday inv all the. year getting
full marks, and there was only another Sunday
before the prize day. Every girl in the school
had been looking forward to this day with unusual
interest, and Kitty could scarcely realise that the
long-thought-of, long-talked-of day, when the
prizes would be given away, was within a week.
All the deserving girls in the school had a reward
of some kind, but this year it was to be different;
there was an extra prize, which was called "the...
prize," to be given by the lady at the big house-
a beautiful Bible with references and maps-and
Kitty had set her mind upon winning it. She
had never tried so hard in her life, and her heart
beat high with hope; she knew .that she and
Lily Southwell so far were even, but there was
still another Sunday, and three more tickets might
turn the scale.
She half rose, and peeped out of the window
again; large flakes of snow were falling, and the


lane was covered with a soft white carpet. The
sight of the snow gave her no uneasy feelings;
she lived half-a-mile from the school, but, no
inclement weather ever kept her at home. She
was a sturdy child, and her dimpled cheeks grew
more rosy in the cold; wrapped in her warm coat
and fur-tipped bonnet she could face the keenest
blast which blew across the common, and in spite
of the distance she was generally the first to
arrive, and would be found seated in her place on
the form with her eyes fixed on the door, eager
for the first glimpse of her teacher, Miss- Mary,
who, she thought, had the sweetest smile and
gentlest manner in all the world.
Half-an-hour passed, and still Kitty sat musing
and warming her toes. The eight-day clock
striking, and her mother's voice roused her; she
pushed away her stool and rose to her feet.
"You've sat long enough over the fire, Kitty;
it's time the kettle was boiling."
Kitty yawned, as though she were half asleep,
then she tumbled her tickets back in the bag and
went into the back kitchen to prepare the tea.:
She was a dutiful, loving little girl, and did her
home duties cheerfully.and promptly, but all the


while she was seeking out the cups and..saucers
her duty towards her neighbour was running
through her head.
"Mother," she said, as she watched her putting
away the ironing board, "Miss Mary does teach
us so nicely."
Mrs. Turner sighed.
I am glad you have her, Kitty, to teach and.
guide you. I am not learned about these things,
and I can't spare the time for the study of them."
And yet, she could remember the days when
she was- a little girl like Kitty and loved her
Sunday school, but her struggle for a livelihood
after her husband's death had made her careless
about God's day, and her Bible was little read;
she was glad her child took delight in listening to
what her teacher taught her, and she knew that in
* her own earnest little way Kitty tried to put what
she learned-.into every-day, practice. "She is not
a bit like me,"she said to herself, she takes after
her poor father; he was always one for his book."
Her face softened a little, and she'gave the. ruddy
hair a gentle stroke as she passed.
"I think Sunday school helps you to think of
right things, Kitty."


Kitty held up her face for a kiss.
"Teacher always says she hopes we think of
our lesson in the week." Then she turned her.
head to hide the red flush that dyed her cheeks;
she was not a child who spoke much about herself,
*-he was full of thoughts, but she did not put them ,
into words.
The. entrance of hei brother Jem stopped the
conversation, his coat was covered with snow.
"Old winter is blowing his blast with a venge-
ance," he said, giving himself a shake; "we shall
be snowed up by this time to-morrow, Kit."
K. itty laughed; she knew Jem was teasing he.
:y the curious twinkle in his eye, and there was a
good deal of chatter between the two until the
meal was over.
"I wonder if Jem would know," she said to
herself, as she watched him standing with his face
pressed close against the frosty panes, "and if I
.could summon up courage to ask him; he is
always'so full of joke."
She waited a minute, and then her earnestness
overcame her bashfulness.-
"Do you have the Catechism in your school
to-morrow, Jem ?"


"`Ay! our duty towards our neighbour, a jolly
long piece to get off."
"Do you understand it all.?"
"Can't say that I've studied it much-I know
it s a corker to learn."
Kitty's eyes opened very wide, it seemed extra-
.ordinary to her, Ahe had learned it so easily.
"I think it is a deal harder to get at the mean-
ing 6f the first sentence," she said, slowly repeating
4he words, "'to do to all men as I would .. they
should do unto me;' perhaps you can explain
it, Jem," looking at him doubtfully.
Kitty was so serious that Jem burst out laughing.
Why, it's simple enough-serve others as you'd
be served, and precious glad I'd be if folks served
me e.hbat."
K0lyhought Jem was quick of understanding
if he could not commit to memory, but before she
had timle to reply he shut the door with a bang
and went whistling off to his carpentering in.the
laundry. Jemqwas ingenious and a good turner,
"and the best-hearted lad that ever lived," his
mother always said.



-HEN Kitty awoke the following morn-,
ing her thoughts were just as busy
3Y/* as the day before; there was a good
deal of questioning in her mind as to who was her
neighbour, She could understand Lily South-
well's neighbours, for. there were three cottages
all in 'a row; but no one lived next ,loor. to
them-her home was half-a-mile away Wbany
human habitation, and the nearest to them was
only a thatch-roofed homestead, a lonely place
which looked like a tumble-down barn, and people
never cared to live there long.
The Sunday was bright, but a sharp frost had
made the ground slippery, and Kitty had to.giyve
herself some extra minutesfor her walk tio.i~ lool;
she set off ii the same thoughtful mooa.d al1.
16 .


through the lessou she sat with her blue eyes
rivetted on her teacher, listening to every word
she spoke as though she expected to find the
answer to her questioning.
*Miss Mary, the rector's daughter, smiled once
at the sweet, serious little face uplifted to hers;
she marked her interest in the lesson, but she did
not know how really Kitty was entering into the
meaning of the words, and how carefully she was
putting them away in a little corner of her heart
to be lived again in her life. At the close of the':
lesson a white card was given to each girl with
"The Golden Rule"-" As ye would that men
should do to you, do ye also to them likewise "-
printed on it in clear gilt letters, and beneath was
the little prayer: "Grant me, Lord, to try my
own ways by this pattern."
The teacher said it was a simple rule, but
Divine as well as golden, for the Lord Jesus gave
it to teach us something. He said we must
always do to each other just what we should like.
others to-do to us; and a help to do this was to
suppose ourselves in the same particular case and
circumstances, to ask ourselves What should I in
those circumstances like done to me?" And then


do that to the other. Selfishness, she said, will
'often tempt us to look only at our own things, but
Christ tells us in the golden rule to remember
others as well as ourselves, and if they would,
each one, try to do this, because God was so good
to them, it would make them very happy, and
they would show that their hearts were His by
keeping His command, life would be different to
them all if they would ake use of the golden
rule-Do as ye would be done by. Then she
pointed out to them how every one we come
across in any way is our neighbour, and how
life is made up of little things; it was not the
big acts which look brilliant in the sight' of men
that God asks us for in the golden rule, but
the gentle word, the small favour, the look of
love, all little acts of kindness, and if done to
each other for their Lord's sake would win their
After the lesson they all stood up and sang the
hymn, "We are but little children weak," which
they had learned to say in the afternoon; it was
a favourite hymn of Kitty's, and she thought the
words in the last verse seemed to suit what
teacher had been telling them so nicely:

"There's not a child so small and weak -
But has his little cross to take,
His little work of love and praise
That he may do for Jesus' sake."

No one who had seen Kitty walking briskly
home after church with her head thrown back
and her chin in the air, in the independent
fashion peculiar to herself, would have guessed
what serious thoughts wiAe running through her'
little mind. She was very happy, and she was
trying to remember all the words the teacher had
spoken about the golden rule;" again and again
she thought it all over until she felt she under-
stood all that had been so difficult to her the
day before. She sang the hymn softly as she
went along the lane, wondering to herself what
"little work of love would dome to her to do.
As she neared her home, Jem peeped at her
over the hedge and saw her rosy face covered
with smiles.
Hllo, Kittens! I see that prize shining in
your eyes."
Kitty ceased humming, and looked up with a
merry laugh.
"There's many a slip, Jem."


"I'11 bet five to one you get it," he shouted at
the top of his voice as Kitty nodded and hurried
on with sparkling eyes.
"Sunday school was beautiful to-day, mother,"
she said, as she paused in the kitchen; "Miss
Mary explained our lesson and made it quite easy
for us."
"Then you've got at the meaning," she
answered, turning round, to kiss her; a gentler
mood was on the mother, the heated work-a-
day look had passed away, the lines upon her
brow had almost disappeared. "I have some
work here that a little pair of hands can do,"
she said, laying a spotless white cloth on the
\ "All right, mother, I won't be five minutes."
Kitty ran up the wooden steps to the little
attic, with its slanting roof and tiny sky-light, to
slip off her cloak and bonnet and make her rough
hair tidy for dinner; but before she went down
she took the card from her pocket and laid it on
the quilt of her cot-bed, then she kneeled down,
and folding her hands, prayed the little prayer,
adding a few words of her own: "Oh! Lord
Jesus Christ, Thou hast given us 'the golden rule,'


S teach me to understand it, and help me to try-my
own ways by this pattern."
SThen she ran quickly down to lay the cloth in
the parlour for the nice little meal waiting for
them when Jem should come in. In a few
minutes he opened the door with a burst, and
rushed to the fire.
"The weather is getting -rough," he said,
rubbing his red hands; it's nice to come in from
the sleet and see a bright blaze."
The yule log crackled and burned, and the room
looked cosy and warm.
"Sunday school was rather jolly to-day, Kit;
we had our old teacher, Mr. Chipcot, the curate,
and it was real interesting what he said about
-- he stopped short.
Kitty turned and saw Jem's eyes fixed upon
her, and her own grew round and big.
"I say, what an awful lot there is in that---"
he paused again, his face red with confusion.
Kitty felt a little irritated. "Go on, don't be a
duffer, Jem;" then she laughed. "Tell me what
Mr. Chipcot said, I'd like to hear."
Jem drew his figure up to its full height and
said "Bosh," in a tone that meant he was not


going to let Kitty or anybody know what thoughts
his mind was busy with.
"Isn't this awfully jolly, Kit ?" he said, pulling
a double-bladed knife from his pocket. I made a
splendid swop in school, this knife will whittle
the stoutest bit of sycamore-I can turn a pepper-
box for mother now."
And Kitty knew she was destined to have no
further light on the subject of the lesson.
-They did not dawdle long over dinner, time
was too precious to be wasted, and Kitty was
longing for the meal to be finished so that she
might hurry away,
"What a. pity it is that every day is not like
this day," she thought, as she put on her cloak
and made haste to be ready. "Good-bye, mother,"
she called, jumping step by step down the stairs.
"You had better go round by the high road,
Mrs. Turner looked up at the clouds as they
thickened in the sky, and Kitty's face fell.
"Oh mother, it makes five minutes' difference,
and I haven't over much time."
I can't help it, the fields are unfit to walk
across weather like this."


She shut the door quickly and Kitty knew
she must obey her mother always insisted on
prompt obedience, and she had grown up to
mind what was said to her and obeyed without
a thought.



S S Kitty left home it wanted just half-an-
hour to the time the school opened. It
was windy and chilly, and the frozen
snow made the ground almost like ice; her feet4.
slipped continually, but she went bravely on;
her cheeks glowed and ler eyes beamed, she
was on the tip-toe of expectation and no weather
could daunt her-not even whe the sleet blew in
her face and the wind wrappe.l) her round and
round. The little birds peeped out at her from
the bare branches, the little sonsyy" breasts of
the robins, gleaming red in the snow, but Kitty
was too busy to heed them; every minute was of
importance to her as she hurried along.
As she passed by one of the field-paths she was
joined by Patty Davison, a tall girl of twelve, a


very, irregular attender at the school, and one
whom Kitty did not much care for as a companion,
she wished she could have met Lily Southwell
It's lucky that I came along just in time to
meet you," she said, giving Kitty's cloak a pull to
prevent her going so fast.
"Don't keep me, Patty, I'm afraid of being
Kitty spoke quickly, but she was not cross, and
they walked a short distance along the road
almost in silence.
"I thought school was horrid and dull this
morning," said Patty.
"I liked it," and Kitty smiled to herself.
"Liked it!" said Patty, looking at her as if
half doubting that she meant what she said;
" what in the world was there to like? The Cate-
chism is always as dull as ditch water, and I
didn't think teacher made much of her lesson; I
like the Scripture stories-Daniel in the lion's den,
the three men in.the fire, Joseph in prison, and
such-like histories."
A shadow crossed Kitty's face.
I thought teacher made it very plain and


easy to understand, and I shall like to think
about it."
"What's the good ?"
"What's the good of school if we don't?" said
Kitty; "why, Patty, I thought the whole lesson
was beautiful, there seemed so much in 'the
golden rule' for us to. do, and I know now what it
Patty burst into a laugh.
One would think, Kitty, to hear you talk, that
you went along with teacher in all she said."
"I did."
We4l,' hen, I didn't; I hold my own ideas of
duty, but I'm not one to think so .much of the
little things. Teacher harped on so about the
little works, but I say it's the great deeds that
speak. It's a mighty fall to my mind after
singing about the brave' saints and martyrs who
went through fire and strife-listen,Kitty, 'through
fire and strife'-to come down to 'the little work
of love' which any one can do."
"But I think," said Kitty, slowly, with her.
bright shy eyes lifted to Patty, "that it is mostly
very small things we have to do; it is very seldom
a great thing comes in our way."


"All the same, I'd like to find my place among
the Christian heroes of the world whose deeds of
. glory we so often sing about."' Patty would. like
to have given forth more of her own ideas, but
Kitty suddenly stopped and turned her head to
one side.
"Here! Hi!"
The words rang through the frosty air.
"Some one. is calling us," she said, and as she
spoke, at the bend of the lane, near the tumble-
down cottage, she saw a girl standing looking up
and down in all directions, who seemed both
perplexed' and frightened. Her clothing was
poor and scanty, the old dress which she wore
could not protect- her from the winter's cold, and
her. face was white and thin. She .was leaning
on crutches, and she gazed timidly about her as
though she did not know what to do.
Kitty stood quite still. A feeling of interest
and pity made her watch her, and she was sorry
to see how ill she looked and how slowly she
"Here! Hi!"
The words rang out again, but this time she
beckoned with her hand as her eye fell upon


them, and it was impossible for the two not to
understand that their help was needed.
Kitty looked at the girl as if half doubting
what to do.
"I reckon I'm not going," said Patty, with
a loud laugh, "she's only making game of us."
"I don't think so," said Kitty; and as the girl
continued to beckon and call, she quickened her
steps and ran briskly up the desolate little path
to the door of the cottage.
"I think you want me," she said, speaking
very hurriedly, "but I can't stay now. You see
I am going to school, and I am later than usual;
I will call and speak to you on my way back."
How long will it be ?"
"Oh! only two hours; there is school and the
afternoon service, but you really must not keep
me now."
Kitty took a step backward.
Mebbe that 'll be too late."
Kitty began to feel a little uneasy, and Patty
stood laughing behind her.
"Grandad is took very bad with this illness,"
the girl continued, "the 'fluenza;' There's no-
body lives with him but me, and I wants the


doctor fetching. We only come a week ago, and
we ain't no neighbours." She shook the rough
tangled hair from her eyes and looked back at
the miserable little cottage she called her home.
"I says to grandad, "I'll look out for some one
likely, and make bold to ask,' then as I looked
I lighted on you."
Kitty stood in silent dismay, her lips pressed
tightly together.
Patty gave her shoulders a little shove of im-
"Don't go, Kitty, it's all out of our way."
"I wouldn't trouble you, miss, if I could go
myself. It's hard work to hobble along at any
time, but when the road is slape, the crutches
slip and make it dangerous at every step. Gran-
dad looks as though he were took for death; he's
fallen asleep and I can't wake him."
Kitty felt hot all over. The doctor lived in the
red house on the outskirts of the village, a mile
away, and in the opposite direction. She could
not bear to say "No," the girl looked so unhappy
and sighed so sadly.
"It's such a long way to go," she said, trying
to keep her voice steady; "I shouldn't have


minded if you had asked me other days-but"
only to-day, I really haven't the time to spare."
Of course we haven't," said Patty. She may
find somebody else to go, we have," with a slight
toss of her head, "something better to do than
tramp about for other people."
Kitty's face was full of perplexity.
"Oh! it isn't that," she said, quickly, "I will
gladly go after school, I will give up church, but
I really can't go now; I am not-" with all the
red in her cheeks, "going to lose my chance of
the prize."
Then she turned slowly and went down the
garden path.
The girl's eyes filled with tears, but she did not
say a word.
"Bravo! Kitty; I thought you were going to be
weak enough to go. It's nothing to fuss about.
He's an old man, and the cold has nipped him a
bit. What's the good of people like them sending
for the doctor; they can't pay him," and Patty
gave her a little pat on the back as they hurried on.
But Kitty was very unhappy; she tried to
laugh and talk as usual, but the uncomfortable
feelings grew deeper and deeper, and Patty little


dreamed how hard a struggle was going on in
Kitty's mind. She was angry with her mother
for forbidding her to go by the fields, for had she
done so this would not have happened, she would
have missed seeing the girl; and she was angry
with Patty for not offering to go, she was older
than she, and she had nothing to lose through
missing her class that one afternoon, for she was
one of the -most irregular attenders in the school.
Lastly, she was dissatisfied with herself-" I am
not obliged to do just what anybody asks me,"
she argued as she plodded on, and she. tried'
to persuade herself that there could be no call for
her to give up the chance of the prize when she
had tried for it a whole year; she had promised
to be back, in an hour, when she would willingly
go, she said, comforting herself, "and that was as
much as could be expected of her."
"To be kind to any one who comes in our way."
The words seemed to echo in her ears, and
brought back to her memory the subject which
had formed the morning's lesson.
"I thought it all .sounded very easy when
teacher was talking, and now it is not easy at
all," said Kitty, miserably, to herself.


She went ten steps farther, then in the midst
of Patty's lively chatter, she stood still and looked
back towards the lone little cottage.
"Put yourself in her place and see what you
would like done to you."
"Teacher said that," thought Kitty, and "the
golden rule" seemed to shine out in clear letters
before her eyes, the words were so full of meaning
to her now. What would she wish if she were in
such-like circumstances ?" Kitty could scarcely
realise such a sad state of things; the dreary life
spent with an old ill grandfather without seem-
ingly one ray to brighten it, for she supposed
there was -very little that was cheerful in her lot.
"The Lord Jesus said we must always do to
each other just what we should like others to do
to us," the inner voice whispered as she stood;
yesterday she would not have seen her duty to her
neighbour clearly as she saw it now, but the
lesson she had in the morning had gone deep into
the little heart.
A terrible feeling of disappointment ran through
her-" She had tried so hard, how could she give
it up?"
Thought after thought passed through, her


mind in quick succession, and still she seemed to
hear a voice above them all, saying,-"Do unto,
others as you would they should do
unto you."
She walked a few steps farther, and the village
school was in sight; she could distinguish Miss
Mary's brown cloak, and groups of children stand-
ing about waiting to be let in-she would just be
in time. A little farther and her steps grew
slower; How unhappy the girl looked with the
tears in her eyes," and how uneasy she felt her-
self. Kitty was very silent as she tried to think
it all out.
"And martyrs brave and patient saints-
Have stood for Him in fire and strife,"
hummed Patty, -as she walked on, intent on.
watching the soft flakes that fell all around her
like feathers.
"His little work of love and praise
That he may do for Jesus' sake."
Kitty smiled a dim little smile as she listened,
the Sunday school hymn had sounded so sweet in
the morning, and now the "little work of love"
had come for her to do. Her teacher had said the


way to please Him was to do something for others
for His sake. Kitty was only beginning to learn
the .lesson, but she was no longer irresolute, her
mind was made up-she knew now what she ought
to do, and she wished to do her duty. She clasped
her hands tight and gave a convulsive little gasp,
which caused Patty to cease her humming and
stare at her with wide-open eyes.
Kitty turned away her face to hide two big
drops which had fallen on her cheek. "Teacher
wouldn't tell me to do anything too difficult," she
thought; there was a risi-g in her throat, and she
felt she could not speak a word.
"What's up, Kitty?"
Then, very low and hesitating, came the answer.
I am going back to tell th9 girl I'11 fetch the
"What!" looking at her with undisguised
astonishment. "What nonsense, Kitty, there's no
occasion for you to'do it!"
"Will you go if I don't?"
"Not I! I'm none so fond of helping other
people; I know I get little help beyond what I
give myself."
Kitty lifted her head, and a resolute light shone


in her eyes; there was a good deal of determina-
tion of character in Kitty, she applied all her
powers to do anything she felt she ought to do;
the mother said it -was the child's way to do
everything with all her might.
"I ought to go," she said, and so I am going."
Patty looked at her for a monient in wonder,
then she burst into a laugh, the idea seemed to
tickle her immensely.
Kitty's face was one that showed almost too
plainly all. that passed within, but Patty did not
know what brought about this changed ,state of
"I see no ought in it," she said, "and you are a
soft to give up the prize and let Lil Southwell
have it"
"I think I could never be quite happy if I got
it," said Kitty.
"Well! I wish you joy of your walk, for at the
end they won't say thank you; I 'm not going to
school either in this driving snow," and Patty,
walked off, her face expressing much contempt
for Kitty's stupidity.



" EACHER will never know why I am
absent now Patty is not going," thought
Kitty sorrowfully, as she ran up the
little path to the cottage and with a beating
heart knocked and waited at the old door.
Nobody answered, so she timidly lifted the
latch and peeped in. There, in the corner of the
bare desolate room, lay the old man with closed
eyelids, the cripple kneeling by his side, her face
buried in. her hands;. at the sound ot the opening
ddor she lifted her head, and the expression of dull
and hopeless wretchedness went to Kitty's heart-
the look and attitude moved her, child though she
was, and her own disappointment sank into insig-
nificance before the poor girl's misery; the room
was nearly destitute of furniture, the tiny hand-

,'.* ',. '**- -'/--


ful of coals hardly made it warm, Kitty thought of
the snug little home of her own with its thatched
roof and overhanging eaves, and there were no
longer any doubts in her mind as to- the wisdom
of the step she was taking.
"I have come back to tell -you I will fetch the
doctor," she said, with a quiver of her lip, then
without waiting for the lame girl's thanks -she
turned and went down the road again. She walked
fast and straight on, never stopping to look to the
right or the left; there was no hesitation in her
step, she never repented she had come, for there
was no giving up in Kitty.
The air was full of snow, grey clouds had over-
spread all the sky, the wind swept through her cloak
though she wrapped it tightly round her, and her
hair was blown wildly about; it was very raw and
chill, and Kitty's teeth began to chatter, but she
pressed bravely on-she was all impatience to reach
the doctor's house and tell her errand. The bells
were ringing, and she strained her ears to catch
the sound.
"School is over," she said to herself, and Lily
has won the prize." She thought of the hubbub
of voices as the children tumbled and rushed out


of school; then she pictured them all in the warm
"church singing the- hymns and listening to the
preacher, and her brave little face quivered all
over; she had asked God to help her before she
started for school, "and make me quite willing too,"
she added as she fought her way against the
The feathery flakes fell thicker, they rested on
her hair, and hood, and cloak, and then melted
away; but the snow and wet did not matter to
Kitty, she would soon forget it she thought when
she was safe home again. She turned a corner and
the red house was in view, the doctor's carriage
was at the door, and Kitty quickened her steps.
Dr. Sennal was standing in the porch intent on
reading a letter, and Kitty drew near and stood a
moment before he was aware of her presence.
"If you please, sir," began Kitty, making a
quaint little curtsey, as she stood trembling and
eager by his side ; "if you please---"
Dr. Sennal half-turned and saw the snow-flecked
little maid, he noticed also that her eyes were wet
with tears.
"Well!" he said, quickly, then with another
look he recognized her. "Why, bless me, if it


isn't little Kitty Turner! What has happened,
mother isn't ill, is she, or Jem ?"
Kitty shook her head, and in a few words told
her errand. Her fresh simplicity pleased the
doctor, he patted her head, and bending towards
her said, gravely, "And so you have come all this
way to tell me."
"Yes, please, sir," and there was a tremulous
eagerness in her voice. "The old man is in a
very bad way, please can you come now ?"
"I will drive round at once," he said, "and you
shall ride back with me. We must get you home
as quickly as you can; you have courage, you poor
little child, to come so far in all this terrible cold."
"I aint a bit tired now," and Kitty hugged
herself in her cloak, and leaned back in a cosy
corner of the brougham where she sat still and
silent as a mouse, for she had been told that
doctors always like to be quiet and not talk while
they are going their rounds,.and Dr. Sennal had
closed this eyes and seemed to be thinking- very
He jumped out quickly at the door of the
cottage, and Kitty was left to her meditations.
She gazed wistfully out of the window, everything


was very still in the lane, and she knew that the
service was not yet over. There was not a sign
of a boy or girl about, and the snow was whiten-
ing the bare brown fields and the cones on the
firs as it fell thickly down. Her face brightened,
and she felt a little cheered in spite of herself, for
now the doctor was in attendance her heart was
eased of half its load; and yet it was very different
S from the bright beaming countenance of three
hours ago.
It was by no means a flying visit that the
doctor paid the old man; a good half-hour had
fled before he returned to the carriage.
"Is he very bad ?" Kitty ventured, as he pulled
the rug round his legs.
"Yes, very bad." He looked at her with a
smile in his kind eyes. He had rosy little
daughters of his own, but he doubted whether
they would have been as brave as Kitty had been
that day. The lame girl had told him a little of
what she had gathered from Kitty's conversation
with her.
Is he going to die ?"
"Oh! I hope not; you were a plucky little
girl to come so far on a day like this. You, have


lifted a load of care from that poor thing's shoulders;
it's bad for any one to be in a fix like that, and
delay might have been very serious."
"Delay might have been very serious." Kitty
repeated the words to herself in an awe-struck
whisper; she wondered if she might ask a question
that was very much on her mind.
"Would-would two hours have made any
difference?" turning a grave, sweet little face
round to his.
"All the difference in the world, you only just
caught me. I have been summoned to a patient
miles away, and a good many more than two
hours must elapse before I am back again."
"Oh! I am glad," said Kitty; it would have
been so terrible, she thought, if through her
selfishness the old man's death had lain at her
That brother of yours is a good lad," said the
doctor, as they drove rapidly down the snowy lane.
I know he is," with a little attempt at a smile.
"That lame girl tells me they have only been
there a week, but Jem has carried her bucket to
the well for her every day, which shows a good
deal of proper feeling in.the lad."


The rosy line of Kitty's cheeks deepened, so
great was her surprise.
"He never spoke of it," she said, looking up in
his face with astonished eyes.
"Never you mind, let Jem do his little kind-
nesses in silence, if he wishes; there's more in
the doing than the saying," and closing his eyes
drowsily, he relapsed into thoughtfulness again.
Kitty's' little head was very full as she con-
tinued to gaze out of the window. This. was
a puzzle to her. Jem was a little blunt and
unpolished, but he was one of the most particular
boys in the world in his own way, and she could
not- imagine him drawing water for a cripple;
besides, the few minutes he had to spare in a
morning before going to school were always spent
with his tools, and he hated to be at everybody's
beck and call. It didn't seem quite in the nature
of Jem to do such things, and she could not
imagine how he came to think of it. Then she
fell to pondering over the golden rule, and she
wondered if Jem had found it a good rule too.
She was sure he understood about it, because
hadn't he said on Saturday, when. she asked him
the meaning, "Serve others as you'd be served."



She had not taken much notice then of his answer,
but it broke in upon her now, and she eyed Jem
mentally with much satisfaction.
In a few minutes the cottage was in full view,
and Kitty caught sight of her mother standing in
the doorway. Mrs. Turner was watching the
weather, and wishing her child was safe home.
She never wondered what Jem was after on
Sunday when he did not appear, because he so
often went home with Mr. Chipcot, and they saw
no more of him until after the evening service.;
but Kitty was seldom late, and she began to feel
uneasy. She kept looking from time to time
along the lane, and then she prepared the tea.
The table was set and the toast made as the
carriage stopped near the gate, and the motherly
heart beat quickly as her eye fell on the rosy face
peeping out of the window. She was in a maze
of astonishment at what could have befallen Kitty
to cause Dr. Sennal 'to bring her home in his
carriage. She went quickly down the path.
"Don't be alarmed, Mrs. Turner, I have her
safe and sound," said the doctor, in his cheery
voice, and giving her a.good shake of the hand.
"Kitty is a brave, little woman, and worthy to be


trusted with anything; no grown-up person could
have done more than she has done to-day; I won't
say any more lest.we make her vain, but I daresay
you'11. hear all about it by-and-by."
Kitty blushed and looked down. Thank you
kindly, sir," she said, as she skipped from the
carriage and stood by her mother's side; she was
a modest little girl and respectful in her manners.
Mrs. Turner also thanked him warmly for
taking charge of her child, but she was per-
plexed, she could not understand his words, she
thought he had only overtaken Kitty in the snow-
storm and picked her up on her way from church.
I little thought when I got up what a day
I should have," said Kitty to herself, as she stood
again in the cosy parlour. Her eyes were full of
tears; she had struggled so long to keep them
from falling, and now she was safe indoors with-
'the bitterness of the disappointment reviving in
her heart she felt unable td bear any more-she
craved to be alone in her little attic 'with no one
to look at her or speak to her. She stood gazing
into the fire with her back to her mother, who
was busily engaged with the tea.
"Well, child how have you got, on," she said,

i (Ii I

"N. "'Come along and get your tea now,' she said."



reaching past her for the-kettle, "you've come
back a happy little girl, I expect ?"
Kitty bit her lip and tried to speak, but her
throat was swelling 'with suppressed sobs. Her
mother's words took away the little remaining
stock of courage, and the tears flowed fast.
Mrs. Turner sat down and drew her child to
"Eh! bairn, what is it?" she said, gently
drawing off the wet cloak .and bonnet, and,
collapsing at last, poor little Kitty hid her face
on her mother's lap and burst into unrestrained
Mrs. Turner let her have her cry out. You
shall tell mjby-and-by," she said, stroking the
curly head. "There's something amiss," she told
herself, "for Kitty to cry like this," and the
doctor's parting words came back to her.
"Come along and get your tea now," she said,
kissing the wet little face; but Kitty could not
eat until she had told about the lost tickets; she
held her mother's hand tight, while in the simplest
and most natural way possible the whole story
was unfolded bit by bit. -Te tears came at every
few words, she could not help it, for it was a very


great disappointment; she had counted on the day
so long, but the soft touch on her hair did her
go6d; by degrees she was a little comforted, for she
knew there was mother who guessed how she
felt, and shared in her sorrow.
"You see I am glad and sorry too, mother,'
she. said; and the hard-working woman was
moved inexpressibly, there was a great humility
in Kitty's manner that touched her; she had held
her own views of life and daily duty, but she had
gone on with these duties, forgetting that God
had..any claim .upon her services, or that religion
could be brought to bear on every-day life; she
had once been in the habit. of going to church
"every Sunday, but even then it was more from
custom than principle; she had worked hard to
bring up her, children respectably, to support
herself and them, but the day's toil, instead of
God, had occupied her heart; her little daughter
was beginning to see that the. first care should
be to please God and keep His commands, and
yet, with all her years, it was a subject she had
never thought much about; her face wore a very
softened -expression as she.stroked her little girl's
hair and smiled at her.


"I 'm right glad you remembered your lesson,
Kitty; it's better to try and:hJlpJfolks-whennthey
are in trouble than to leave them to take careiof
themselves." .,
Yes, that's what teacher said. I .don't think
I should, have cared to think about it or should
have understood the words if I hadn't gone. to
Miss Mary's class. Oh it was a dreadful feel,
mother, when I left that poor girl in such a fix
and went along with Patty, declaring I wouldn't
miss my chance of the prize; I did feel so
miserable, but I expect wicked people can't feel
happy. Teacher said any little acts of unkindness
were sure to trouble us, and I did think as I'd try
and be brave and not selfish, when Miss Mary was"
teaching us about 'the golden rule,' but it didn't
seem so hard then."
"Well, I aint much of a scholar, and I 'm feared
I don't think enough about that rule, but I expect
the Lord wants us to have kind hearts and loving
ways, such as- He had; we can, none of us, be
much like Him, but we've got to copy Him,
and them that keeps His commands will be
rewarded sevenfold into their bosoms, as the
saying is, and I hope the Lord will make it such


to you-so don't you be grieving, Kitty, any
longer "-she could not bear to see the child in
distress-" look up and dry your eyes," she said,
wiping away the tears, "for I'11 be bound you are
a happier little girl to-night without the prize
than you would have been with it, and a sting in -
your conscience."




-" OME, Kit, bustle away;- I want my
1'0- The evening was drawing to a close,
and Jem was home again; the tears had been
long dried on Kitty's cheeks, and Jem did not
notice the red eyelids as he pulled his chair
nearer the fire and bent down to enjoy the
feeling of warmth. He seemed surprised that
she was so quiet, for though she kept pausing
here and :there for a little talk as she busily
laid the cloth, she did not seem to have much
to say, and on a Sunday night there was gener-
ally a lively battle of words between them. He
knit his brows and eyed her as though he
were trying to puzzle her out; then, as he faced
- sud Onl round, his eye fell on the little card


with the golden rule shining out in the fire-
light; half raising himself, he reached it from the
shelf and held it in his hand, he twisted his
fingers in his hair and smiled as he read it. Kitty
expected a joke, but none came.
That's a good motto," he said, "for those who
mind it, but I reckon it aint so easy as it looks."
Kitty, who was carefully watching the porridge
bubbling on the fire, stood still with the spoon in
her hand and looked at him.
"That's true," she began, then she checked
herself hastily, and Jem wondered what made her
so red and serious, she generally carolled like a
lark whilst preparing the supper.
How do you know, Kit ?"
This did not seem easy to Kitty to answer, but
after a moment's hesitation she said, simply, "I've
tried it, Jem."
He gave a low whistle and buried his head in
-,. his hands, when he lifted it again the twinkle had
gone from his eyes. ',
"What had Mr. Chipcot to say about the rule,
Jem ?"
Kitty was quite sure the morning' lesson was
in his mind.
*^ \


"Oh a lot."
But that doesn't tell me anything," looking at
him with intelligent comprehension; tell me all
about it, there's a dear lad."
Jem yawned and rubbed his eyes. They could
hear the wind howling round the cottage, but
within it' was bright and cosy, and the sense of
snugness brought Jem out of his shell and made
him more communicative than in the morning.
"I used to think Sunday school wasn't likely to
prove very attractive," he said, gazing into the
fire, "but I shan't dislike it ever again. I wish-
you could hear Mr. Chipcot talk to us, Kit, he
could tell you about the rule a hundred times
better than I can; his words are worth listening
to, and what's more he makes us all think about
them again, however dull we are in our learning."
"Just as nice as it is to listen to Miss Mary
I expect," replied Kitty, still presiding over the
"Stuff as if you could make me believe that;
I'd like to catch Miss Mary teaching you in the
jolly way Mr. Chipcot does us-he doesn't preach,
lie talks as nobody else has ever done, and it aint
*bit like school."


Kitty gave a little laugh.
"Oh! but Jem, you don't know what a kind
way Miss Mary has of talking to us, and how she
makes us want to do right; she made 'the golden
rule' seem beautiful to-day."
'"Ay and it aint a self-imposed rule either,
for if it were we shouldn't want to keep it;
Mr. Chipcot said it had been handed down to us
ever since the days of the Bible people-that's
thousands of years ago-and yet it is in full force
still. He said (and the words still rang on.'in
Jem's ears) it was a fine thing, no doubt, to
help ourselves, but it was a much finer thing to
serve some one else; and when we got hold of
the rule we got hold of a bit of something higher
than ourselves, for it learns us, where self is
urging its claims to put our neighbour first-it
would be a bore and go against the grain often,
but we must lump that if we mean to stick to the
rule and serve others as we'd be served."
Each word came out with a vivid blush, and
Jem looked at Kitty as he spoke to see what she
thought; then, as she vouchsafed him no answer,
he continued,
"All that he said and a little of something else,


but they aint words to talk about, and I don't
know how to explain."
"Miss Mary said the rule was to be written in
the heart and acted in the life," said Kitty shyly,
twisting thb string of her apron round and round
her finger.
"Ay," said Jem again, "you're right there;"
and he stirred the fire into a blaze and threw on a
shovelful of coals.
Mr. Chipcot said, as he urged the duty upon
us, -'You'll forget all about it by to-morrow, I
daresay.' But I said to myself I shan't, for he
made us. feel somehow as though we ought to
study every day how to help some one."
Jem looked very thoughtful for a moment and
then said, "1 've had it in my head a goodish bit
as I never did anything for anybody, and yesterday
when I was getting the lesson off, after you asked
me what it meant, my mind seemed to fix on that
first sentence of it and I never got any further;
then, when Mr. Chipcot was telling us how little
it costs us to make folks happy, I felt I'd like to
try to be ready always to step in and give help to
any one as stands in need." A
"I hope I shan't forget about it," said Kitty


with a little sigh in her voice, and with the
remembrance of the day's troubles the tears came
into her eyes again.
-"If we do, it'll show that we don't care," said
Jem, stretching his arms above his head; "when
we start we must be brave enough to go on, Kit;"
then suddenly changing his tone, "Mr. Chipot
laughed outright when I said the piece of catechism
for to-day was a corker to get. off. He said, 'You
don't plague your head much with learning, Jem,'
and I said, I've troubled myself a lot this time,
Kitty stood still for a second or two gazing at
him in wonder, she dearly loved her brother, but
it was very seldom he conversed freely with her as
he had done to-night-she thought he never
troubled himself with the subject of the lesson,
but it was plain now to Kitty's mind that the
teaching had its effect upon Jem. He was a lad
full of manly tender impulses, and Mr. Chipcot's
words, as he laid them up in his heart to be the
ruling principle of his life, helped to strengthen
all that was-brave and right in his nature.
His eyes went to the fire again, then back
to Kitty's face. Her wistful expression struck


him, and he noticed for the first time her tired
eyes and red lids.
"What ails you,. Kit, that you look so forlorn ?
Have folks been vexing you ? You've told me
nothing yet about the prize, and I want to hear
the result." He caught hold of her dress, but
with a little wriggle she freed herself, and as the
colour flew up in her face she ran into the back
kitchen and shut the door between them.
"What's up with Kitty ?"
Jem looked across at Mrs. Turner, who was
just entering the room, for some explanation, and
in a few words she made it all clear to him.
"Get your supper, Jem, and let her alone; she
feels very badly about it yet, maybe she'll feel
better by-and-by."
Jem drew up a chair to the table and sat down.
He had no intention of plaguing Kitty-he felt
she had done a very plucky thing. He knew
how much she had been bent on getting the
prize-all that the hope had been to her-and it
did seem hard that it should not be; she had been
so bright, so happy in the expectation, it was a
cruel disappointment, and he wondered how he
would have borne it had he received such a blow.


"I couldn't have done it, mother," he said in
his downright fashion; "Kit is a brick, and no
mistake, and she never said a single word-it
was angelic of her!"
Mrs. Turner smiled, for Jem was not given to
glorifying Kitty.
"She is her own sweet little self," said her
mother quietly, and Jem was not sure that there
were not tears in her eyes.
You see, mother, she wanted it so desperately
badly. And that aint all, either-- He paused.
"There's something else which I can't explain;"
Mrs. Turner laid her hand on his rough head
as she passed.
' "You mean that Kitty couldn't have given a
stronger proof of her readiness to obey 'the-
golden rule,'" she said, pointing to the little
card on the shelf.
Jem nodded.
"It beats me why Patty didn't go and make
it plain to Miss Mary why Kit could not be in
class.- It was an uncommonly dirty trick of her
to slime off school-she ought to be ashamed of
herself; she might know that Kit is too modest
to say it herself." Jem felt very angry with Patty


as he watched the flickering flames. "She never
lets herself be put in a corner-she is puffed up,
and full of high notions," he said, wrathfully, but
any one who thinks great things of themselves is
soon done for. Mr. Chipcot says it is by the
small things that our principles are tried, and I
call Kit's splendiferous conduct. It is a shame
that she has lost the prize when she has been
counting on it so long."
"I think Patty has a mistaken idea of her own
goodness," replied Mrs. Turner; "if she had put
herself in just such circumstances, she would
have been more ready to act a neighbour's part
towards Kitty. However, it can't be helped now,
she must do without it as well as she can, and
set to work for another year; the pity is that
Miss Mary will be out of the village at the prize-
giving-she goes away to-morrow for three weeks,
so will, never know why the child was absent.
Get your supper, Jem," she said, while carefully
pouring the porridge into a bowl, "talking won't
mend matters.",
But Jem could not dismiss the matter so lightly.
It was the last Sunday, and he knew Kitty could
not get her place back again.


"What, mother!" he cried, almost starting
from his chair, "did you say that Miss Mary was
going away to-morrow?" And his face looked
blank as she replied,
"Yes, by the first train in the morning; so it's
impossible to let her know."
"Impossible !"
Jem repeated the word softly to himself as he
stirred the porridge slowly with his spoon. He
was thinking very hard-a project was in his
mind, and his quick brain was devising the
means for carrying it out. He pushed his chair
from the table, and leaning his elbows on the
window-sill gazed out into the night. The
prospect was gloomy enough. Dark clouds swept
across the sky, there were no stars, and it seemed
to be setting in for a fine fall of snow; he looked
up at the great trees, as the wind swayed and
bent the branches from, side to side, then he
turned and looked round the little parlour. "A
contrast to the bitter cheerlessness of the out-
side," he said, eyeing the steaming porridge, the
brown loaf and little bit of cold pork on the
supper table.
He turned again to the window-icicles, soft


and white, were hanging from the eaves, and
the clumps of fir trees looked gloomy and wei d
in the snowy night.
- "I wish I knew what to do," he said, rumpling
his hair; he could not bear to remain quiet and
not see Kitty righted. Two or three plans for
the morrow suggested themselves to him, but
were quickly dismissed. How he could let Miss
Mary know that Kitty was absent from class
through no fault of her own was difficult matter
to decide at that time of night. Her disappointed
feelings about the prize worried him, and yet he
could hear the wind blowing in gusts, and the
storm pattering like hailstones against the panes.
"Put yourself in her place and see how you
would like to be served," suddenly rushed into
his thoughts as he paced the floor, with his
hands buried in his pockets.
He uttered the word aloud, and his mother
looked at him with a smile, though she could
not divine his thoughts. He had got on the
right side of the difficulty, and in a second his
mind was made up as to what he would do.
"Kit!" he exclaimed, facing suddenly round


as she entered again, "I think you are a trump,
Kit, and I have a profound respect for you;
don't you cry any more," noticing the tell-tale
cheeks, "it'll all come right in the end. Of
course it was bad to be so awfully sold, but
something good may turn up for you yet."
And as- Kitty caught the mischievous twinkle
in his eye, her gravity gave way, and an echo
of laughter rang through the room.
"I think you've said enough, Jem," giving
him a pat on the head as she passed, "we shall
never get supper to-night."
"I don't want any," he said, seizing his cap
from the peg, "I have to go out again."
"What!" cried Kitty, staring at him to see
if he were in joke, whatever takes you out
again at this time of night; why," pulling the
blind aside, "it's pitch dark, and the lanes will
be blocked. Mother, do you hear? Jem says
he has to go out again-and hearken to the wind;
it's a killing blast, and he'll be frozen to death."
"Bosh, Kitty!" in a .tone of disgust, "as if I
cared for weather. I'm as hardy as those old
firs, and I bet they've weathered many a storm.
Don't gainsay me, mumsie," he broke in as Mrs.



Turner began to remonstrate, Kitty is a regular
croaker; I'm not a milksop, and I've something
very important to attend' to-something which
must be done to-night, and I've let the time
slip already," turning his eye on the old clock in
the corner.
And she did not hinder his going. "I suppose
he must do as he pleases," was her only reply.
He evidently had something on his mind that
a freezing atmosphere would not hinder him
from doing, and he had usually pretty much his
own way with his mother. Kitty was wont to
say, Jem only laughs and does just as he
.chooses," but he never acted in open defiance of
her wishes.
Button your coat tight over you chest, Jem,"
she said, as he made for the door, eager to be
"And tie a courforter over my ears," he called
Back, with a nod and wink. at Kitty, then
chuckling and laughing in the most perfect good
humour, he quitted the room and banged himself
out of the house.



OW odd of Jem," thought Kitty, as she
r drew her wooden chair to the fire
-- and laid her little shabby hymn-
book on her knee. She had not the least idea
what had taken Jem out into the dreary dark-
ness, and she wished he were safe home again
when she heard the wind howling and the hail
rattling upon the window-panes. She had been
telling her mother of the little services Jem had
rendered to the helpless pair in the tumble-down
cottage, and Mrs. Turner's eyes were bright and
a little glistening as she listened.
"He is the best-disposed lad in the whole
place," she said, "I guess there aint another as
would have given a thought to a wretched


Kitty laughed. Everyone knew of the mother's
pride in her son.
"Oh! but mother, who could have dreamed
that Jem would grow valiant ?"
"Ay! bless the lad; keep the porridge sim-
mering on the hob, Kitty," and after that there
was not a word uttered between them.
It was long after their usual hour of retiring,
.and the warmth made Kitty sleepy. She wanted
to think about the subject uppermost in her
mind, but she hardly knew bow to keep her eyes
open. The ruddy head kept bobbing, first to
the right then to the left, in the little snatches
of sleep which she struggled in vain to overcome.
Mrs. Turner had settled herself in her favourite
corner, with her hands folded on her knee; Kitty
thought she was dosing, but she was thinking
softly in her heart; the thoughtful acts of her
children had impressed her very deeply, and "the
golden rule," shining still in the firelight, made
her realise, the more and more as she dwelt upon
it, her own indifference to such a command.
The words, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself," were familiar enough to her, and some-
times in an interval between the rising up and


the lying down she had thought" it had a
meaning for her maybe if she had time to
think about it, but with the daily toil for the
daily bread she used to get it out of her head
again, and the days went on just as they always
"I guess there isn't one as wouldn't feel the
better for minding it," she thought, "and the
bairns is before 'me; they've had time to study
it, and get at the meaning of the words, but all
I've been'able to do since Martin died is to toil
and moil-to keep myself and them, to take
.things as they come and leave the rest. Ay,"
she reflected, "I've struggled hard, year in and
year out; I've not neglected my children, they
are well cared for and happy, but I owe a deal
to the Lord, who has prospered me more than
I deserve. Maybe they'llgrow tired of minding
it one day,"' she went on, still turning the rule
over in her mind, and the thought made her
form the resolution to do her best to encourage
their efforts, and by her willingness and sympathy
to second them. "It's surprising how soon one
slips out of good habits." She had fallen -into
the habit of staying away from a place of worship


on various pretences, and it had become a settled
rule now that the Sunday must be her rest
"I'll attend service more regular; maybe the
bairns will be glad to have their mother by their
side; it will be a it difficult to fit myself into
the new place, but Martin always said, when we
come to learn new ways we must unlearn many
old ones,' so I'll do as well as I'can. I can but
try, and maybe the Lord will put some of His own
love into my heart."
She stroked her furrowed' brow gently with
her hand, as though to smooth out the
"Martin would have done a job for any one, he
was a good liver; the 'milk of human kindness'
flowed in his breast, if ever it did in any man's, but
grandad was a sore trouble to him; poor old man,"
she. said with a sigh, as a vision of her husband's
father rose before her. "I'd like to have heard
about his last days, he did grandly for us when
Martin and me was married;" and as she thought
of the wedding sixteen years before, she seemed to
se again an old-fashioned farmhouse, with its fields
and barns and stables, where sheep and pigs and


ducks and chickens were kept; the old sunny
garden, with its lime-tree avenue and its regiment
of fox-gloves, where she and Martin strolled in
the dusk of the summer evenings on into the
orchard where the apples were all golden and red
among the leaves. So deeply was she buried in
the past that she seemed to hear again the hum of
the bees in the air and the tinkle of sheep-bells
from the pastures.
"Poor old man," she sighed again, I'd like to
have seen him buried alongside of his wife in his
native place; he'd got his faults, but I always
said he was more the victim of Abel's errors than
his own; he always set so much store by Abel,
though I never knew no good of him or his fine
wife. Grandad never took no heed to business-
so long as any one would save him the trouble of
thinking for himself he was ready to let them,
and Abel managed him and his affairs 'till he
brought him to ruin and the old home was seized
for his debts; grandad never said a word to
Martin, and Abel had excuses ready for all. I
never quite understood it, unless it were the
betting, but Martin and me was full of our own
plans and projects, we was newly married, and


gradually we forgot all about him and his straits;
and after the farm was given up, him and Abel
went to a big town and we heard no more of
them. Grandad was cut up at leaving the old
place, but there was no help for it. I suppose he
couldn't live, poor and disgraced, in the village
where he had been known in such different cir-
cumstances; it was best to go away among
strangers, but there was never no one after-
wards who could throw any light upon their
She pondered a good deal over the long-ago
days in the silent hour, as she lay back in her
arm-chair with her hands still folded. "It aint
np. good to worry about things that's over and
done with," she said, rousing herself from. her
thoughts and looking towards Kitty, who was
singing softly to herself, the dim light from the
lamp falling on her pretty face.
"Sing a bit louder, Kitty."
"One of my school hymns, mother ?"
And the clear, fresh, little voice rose higher as
she sang her afternoon hymn, "We are but little
children weak."


She paused after the lines--

"And martyrs brave and patient saints
Have stood for Him in fire and strife,"

and looked thoughtfully into the fire.
"Well, Kitty ?"
"Patty said, this afternoon, that she would like
to be among the martyrs and saints; she didn't
like Miss Mary telling us that it is in the little
things we can try and serve Him."
"Patty talks rubbish," replied her mother;
"she's far enough from being a saint; words,
don't cost much, there is naught easier than talk,
and a person aint ready to stand for Him 'in fire
and strife' who runs away at the first call of
duty. You mind what your teacher says, Kitty;
her discourses will benefit you more than Patty's
"Miss Mary said nothing that suited her
"She might have profited if she would; it
would do Patty no harm to consider the rule
and judge herself by it. Sing a bit more of the


And Kitty sang on-

We need not die, we cannot fight,
What may we do for Jesus' sake ?"

"Oh! a deal," sighed Mrs. Turner, "but I
haven't done it, and the bairns is before ime."
Kitty had just reached the closing verse, when
her mother leaned forward in her chair. Stop
a bit, Kitty; just you listen, I'm pretty sure I
hear Jem," and as she spoke a brisk step outside
and a lad's shrill whistle fell on their ears.
Kitty sprang up with alacrity to open the
"It's long past ten o'clock, Jem, what in the
world have you been after?"
"Did mother think I was lost in the snow ?" he
asked, pausing a moment to divest himself of his
greatcoat and to shake the snow from his dark
bush of hair; "if you want to know what a real
stinger is, put your head on the other side of the
door, and that '11 make you shake and shiver."
"Better let me poke up the fire and pour out
your porridge," she said, gaily; "you want some-
thing to warm you;" and in less than a minute
Jem was down on his knees before the fire, hig


eyes bright and his cheeks red with cold and
"I can find the like of this nowhere else," he
said, smiling up at his mother as he knelt on in
the glow and felt the warmth of the fire stealing
through his frame, the blood tingling to his finger-
ends. Kit, I've got some news for you-a rare
surprise, and if you 're not jolly glad I don't know
who is. I've been and gone and done it."
Done it!" said Kitty, opening her eyes;
"what have you done, be quick and say it out,
"Oh! but I aint going to tell you everything
in a minute."
"Get your bit of supper while you talk, Jem,"
interrupted Mrs. Turner, "or else let the. matter
:rest for to-night; I must be up betimes in the
.morning, and I don't want to sit up into the
small hours."
"I'm not caring much about supper to-night,"
he said, as he rose from the rug and settled him-
self to the simple meal.
"Why, what is the matter? It's not often
that you say 'No' to your porridge, dear heart,"
regarding him anxiously; ."he's bet out-leave


him alone, Kitty, maybe he '11 tell us after a bit,"
and Kitty, who was trying to. win a blaze from
the red embers, turned a would-be, careless face
towards him, and said,
"Take your own time, Jem, we can wait." She
was very curious, but she would not show it, for
she knew him to be a regular teaser.
"I am real tired, mumsie; the wind and sleet
beat in my face, and," laughing, "it has taken
all the pluck out of me."
He began slowly to sup his porridge, but his
brows were knit, and his voice sounded a trifle less
gay. Kitty wondered what made him so quiet, he
scarcely spoke again until the bowl was empty.
"There! I've done," he said, hastily swallow-
ing the last mouthful.
As he got rested, and was refreshed by his
supper, he rallied a little.
"I'11 tell you now, Kit, and you'll grow jubilant
before you go to bed to-night; just you take
heart again, and don't fret any more, for you've
got your reward."
"Reward !" echoed Kitty, resting her elbows on
the table, and looking up at him with her innocent


Ay, you'll be thankful enough now that you
didn't refuse to do what that lame girl asked you."
But I don't want to be rewardedJfor doing my
duty, Jem." Kitty was horrified at the bare idea,
and Jem laughed at her red face.
"Mr. Chipcot said, Kit, that the practice of
keeping 'the golden rule' would generally bring
its own reward in a happy mind, and I'll bet
you '11 have that when you hear that I've been
and seen your precious Miss Mary."
Miss Mary I oh, Jem !" and Kitty, who could
scarcely believe her ears, started to her feet and
clasped her hands. Really, really," she said, with
her heart in her eyes, "you are such a humbug,
"Ay! I'm not.making believe here, it's every
bit real. Directly the mother told me that Miss
Mary was leaving to-morrow, I felt I must get the
knowledge to her somehow as to why you were
absent from class; and while I was puzzling as to
the ways and means, it come to me, 'Just you go
and tell her yourself,' and I said back, I will;'
so with all the courage I could muster, I went and
let her know. She said she had been wondering
ever so wh#.ycau were kept away, and none


of the girls could tell her anything. Now, you
just listen quietly, and I '11 tell you all about it:
but, paws off, don't throttle me "--for Kitty had
thrown her arms round his neck, and was treating
him to an ecstatic hug.
Did you really, really go out this fearful night
for me, Jem ?" and her face shone with delight.
"Ay I shouldn't be much of a fellow," he said,
bluntly, if I couldn't do a sister a good turn when
she needed it; but you shut up, Kit, and just hear
what I've got to tell you."
And Kitty listened without attempting to inter-
"It seems, from what Miss Mary says, that the
Rector nevei much cared about the Squire's lady
offering to give a prize to the head girl. He
feared it would create a spirit of rivalship in the
'school, but, as she was freshly come, he would not
gainsay her this year. Then when Miss Mary
found-I recollect every word, Kittens-that you
and your class-mate, Lil Southwell, were running
ahead together and always got all your tickets, she
provided a second Bible, as near like the prize one
as she could; so you see, Kit, you'll not be done
out of it after all, .for though Lil Southwell wins


the prize, you 'll be even with her in Miss Mary's
"Ay and without the sting in her conscience,"
murmured Mrs. Turner from her corner. You'll
be satisfied now, I hope."
"Oh! yes, mother, more than satisfied ;" and
Kitty's lip quivered. "I did want the prize, but
it is just everything to me to have it as Miss
Mary's gift. What did you say to her, Jem ?"
"Say! why, I said, 'she'll be pleased, will
Kitty. Good evening, ma'am, and thank you.'"
And as Jem pulled the front lock of his hair
and made a low bow, out of his pocket tumbled a
parcel. '
"There," he said, handing it to her, "if tfat
don't tell you everything you want to know, m
sure I can't."
Kitty took the parcel and pulled off the
Oh !" she cried, her face one flash of joy, "it
is a Bible like the one the Squire's lady offered as
a prize, but "--in a very humble tone-" I didn't
expect it, mumsie. I didn't know of this when
I was on my way to school," and Kitty flushed to
the roots of her hair.


The "little work of love" came back to the
mother's mind, and a new tenderness crept into
'her voice.
"It's :all right, honey; Jem and I know you
didn't go out of your:way to brave the wind and
the, cold for the sake of what you might get by it;
you did the duty the Lord set before you, instead
of stepping aside."
"Of course she did," said Jem, fully compre-
hending Kitty's feelings ; "that rule," pointing to
the mantel-shelf, was your conscience, I bet, Kit."
Kitty nodded. She was slowly turning over
the leaves of her Bible. "It's beautiful!" she
said, "there are maps and references and every-
I~thiig. I wish Miss Mary could have stayed here,
and not have gone away until after the prize
"Ay she meant to have given you it herself,
but you see she can't, as she is leaving to-morrow ; .
but I, was to tell you that she hoped you would
put it into use every day."
"I shall," said Kitty, hugging her treasure
tightly in her chubby hands. "I can read the
evening portion aloud to mother when she has
time to listen, and I don't envy Lily Southwell


the prize one bit. Shall you always be as busy in
the week, mother ?"
"Maybe I can make the time for the reading,"
laying her hand fondly on the curly head; "but
you must remember that you are my busy bee
now, and pile the supper things on the back
kitchen dresser ready for to-morrow's work." And
as Kitty bustled about with giee, Mrs. Turner
retired again to her leather chair in the corner.
"Ay," she thought with a sigh, the bairn may
read her chapter aloud night by night, I've lots to
learn. I seem to know nothing at all-perhaps the
Lord will put a bit of the child-spirit into me."

'orT^. .



j-WISH everybody had as comfortable a home
as this, mother; but there's heaps that
S hasn't," said Jem, after a moment's silence.
There was a far-off look in the round eyes, which
Kitty noticed as she tripped in and out, and she
wondered if Jem were biding his time to bring out 1,.
anything else. She paused as he spoke, to listen.
"Ay," replied Mrs. Turner, looking with pride
on her little parlour, I expect there is in our big
cities, poor souls, but in a village like ours most
folks is safely housed. A thankful thing, too, on a
night like this"-for the wind howled, and the
sleet still pattered on the window-panes. Jem
thought of a shabby bare little room, and he
shifted uneasily once or twice in his chair.
"On my way back from the Rectory," he said,


Srning to. Kitt -,t,:,:ipi"- at the cottage on the
turnpike road. Tth'ti.igbht maybe you'd like to
hear if the old man was picking u *- aI"'
"And is he better ?" she asked, ca vri, her face
brimful of interest.
A:y, the doctor just drove away as I ran up the.
pa... I saw his carriage dow' the lane, and who-
ever do you think opei 1 the door to me-?"
Then, without waiting ior Kitty to answer, he
continued -- Why the first person my eye
lighted on was Mr. Chipcot. I was jolly surprised,
and whistled, but he put his finger up and said,
'Come in, but speak in a whisper, Jem, he has
just fallen asleep;' and then I crossed the thres-
hold for the first time. You know I have never
done more than just peep in, Kit, since he was
,taken ill. It would have chilled your heart,
mumsie," and Kitty saw that he was studying
his mother intently, "had you seen inside that
room; the old man, with his white head and
wrinkled face, asleep on an old ki;e-down for a
-bed in the corner, with little enough to cover him,
a rotten old chair and table, and a -bare floor, no
warm curtains or carpet "-looking at the red
moreen which draped the little window and the


square of carpet covering the centre of the room-
"there was nothing nice or comfie like this, and
he looks as though he lays a-dying. The doctor
said, 'He'11- do now,' but at the best he can only
rally for a bit; he has been failing day by day, it
is ls heart that is he trouble."
"Poor old man- he'll be better off when it
pilases the Lord to take him," replied Mrs.
Turner; "his life isn't worth much to himself or
to others in poverty like that. It's a rough night
for the curate to be but."
"He's keeping watch," said Jem, "while
Dinah-I mean," colouring red all over his face,
"while the lame girl gets two or three hours'
sleep; she has had a handful the last two days
with her grandfather, and Mr. Chipcot said she
was tewed out; you see she is helpless and lame,
mother, never hearty and full of fun like Kitty,
and she is only thirteen. I wanted do stop and
keep watch along with Mr. Chipcot-it seemed a
bit lonesome for him in that bare room-but he
said, 'No, I'd like to keep you, Jem, but your
duty calls you home to your mother; she is
sitting up for you, and expecting you.'"
"He is a kind, good man," said Mrs. Turner;


"it is a grand thing to see a young man so con-
siderate; it warms one up to think of it."
"I never knew any one like him, he does think
about things so;". and Jem leaned his elbows on
the table, and his chin on his hands. "I hope
he '11 stop, mumsie; we shall never see the like of
him again in the village if he goes, and curates is
so movable."
"Ay! from all I hear of him no man could be
better suited to the parish, or more beloved;
everybody round gets something out of him, and a
friendly word, with a handshake, goes a long way.
I hope the Lord will reward him for his kindness
to that old man, and for all else he has done."
"Ay," said Jem, thoughtfully. "He said we
must try and make things better for him to-
morrow; but he has done a lot already. There
was a jolly fire burning, which they've never had
before, and I'm sure he needs it with the sharp
cold upon him, and on the table there were
oranges and some barley water. I saw them
while I sat on his bedside. Mumsie," there was
a little tremble in Jem's voice, "Mumsie, aint
it queer, I found out to-night that their name is
Turner ?"


"Maybe it is," replied his mother; "Turner- is
common enough in the parts where I come from,
but it aint anything to do with us; there were
only two brothers in,.your father's family, and no
relatives beside them; there's no one living akin
to us, Jem."
Jem lifted his eyes, and fixed them on his
mother. Kitty thought, as she stood beside him,
that his face was working a little oddly; she
drew nearer, and listened eagerly, then she took
his hand and gave it a sympathising squeeze-
somehow or other she foresaw what was coming,
but no suspicion of the old man's identity had
crossed Mrs. Turner's mind. The next words fell
clearly on Kitty's ears, but the mother hardly
seemed to hear them, she was tired, and half
asleep. Jem softly stroked her hand. "Now,
mumsie, wake up and listen, and I'll just tell you
what a turn I had to-night. When I was talk-
ing in low whispers to Mr. Chipcot, sitting on the
old man's bed-I had clear forgot him for the
moment-he suddenly started out of his sleep
and called Martin,' three times over."
"Why! that was daddy's name," and Kitty
looked eagerly from one to the other.


"Martin," said Mrs. Turner, "did you say
Martin, Jem?" and Mrs. Turner rose to her feet
and stood facing him, with a dazed look in her
"Ay! I thought he was off his head. He sat
bolt upright, with his arms outstretched, and his
eyes seemed as though they were trying to pierce
through the gloom of the little room, his face was
so white, and his lips twitched as he spoke; but
he smiled such a nice smile, mumsie, when Mr.
Chipcot laid him back on the pillow and soothed
him. I said, 'Who does he think I am ?' and Mr.
Chipcot said, 'He is talking about your father,
Jem.' And when we were still, he went rambling
on, 'Martin, Martin! the best of sons he was,
never a rough word from him. I want to see the
lad, but how am I to find him in the dark?'
Then he touched my hair, and said something
about a brown face and beautiful eyes."
-Jem paused, but Mrs. Turner did not utter a
word; she still hardly grasped his meaning, but
Kitty saw her start and put her hand to her side.
Mumsie," said Jem, speaking in quick, moved
tones, "the old man is grandad. Mr. Chipcot
said,' He is your grandfather, Jem.'"


Mrs. Turner sat down on hei chair; she was
pale and trembling as she echoed the one word,
"Grandad." For a moment she covered her face,
and her voice faltered and broke.
"Jem, what are you telling me?" she said;
"Grandad has been lost to us nigh upon sixteen
years. I thought.he was dead long ago."
"But he aint dead, mother, and I can't abide
to see him laid low in poverty like that."
The sudden knowledge of his relationship to
the lonely old man had roused all the chivalry in
Jem's nature, and there was no room just now for
anything in his heart save intense sympathy for
the grandfather who had come to them to die.
"Who is the girl ?" Mrs. Turner spoke shortly
and sharply.
"His grand-daughter, our cousin Dinah. She
lost the use of her limbs from rheumatic fever,
and she says she came back to life to find herself
useless, and a burden to everybody."
Then she is Abel's girl. I mind me they had
a bairn older than you, Jem. Ay, Abel was a bad
lot, my heart was sore for his wife, bound to such
a man, and for grandad, who was tied to him
hand and foot; there wasn't much friendly feeling


between :me and Abel-they gave him a name
which he never rightly deserved-but grand
could see no evil in him; he was one of the lazy
kind, over-yielding for his own interests, and he
let Abel manage him; he'd better have stuck to
your father, he wouldn't lend himself to shuffling
and cheating-but there! I aint going to con-
demn the old man when he's down, maybe he
couldn't help his feeble soul, we aint all born
alike," she said, repeating to herself with a little
gasping sigh, Grandad grandad !"
She very seldom showed any signs of feeling,
and Jem and Kitty were a little awed as they
saw her face flush and her lip quiver. Everyone
in the village knew she had met her trials with a
brave heart and steady hand,-and had spared no
exertion to bring up and maintain her children.
The gleam in the grey eyes told of the pride that
disdained aid; the firmly closed lips, the deter-:
mination' which would not allow her to be
lightly turned aside from anything she took in
hand; but the heart which had borne up bravely
through lonely years failed her in this, and she
felt-she must sit by herself and look the matter in
the face.


"Is he really as bad as they reckon, Jem ?-"
"Ay! and not a penny to bless themselves with,
mother," and Jem's face was full of concern.
"Cousin Dinah says they'll have to get an order
for the big house in the next parish, and move in
as soon as he is able; but it will be awful to have
to tell him, nobody knows the effect it may have
upon him."
Mrs. Turner did not reply, and Jem wished she
would do anything rather than stare silently into
the fire.
"Give them a lodging -for a little while,
mumsie," and his voice took a very pleading tone,
"only think how old he is."
"I will get some outside help to tide over his
illness, after that they must shift for themselves.
I can't afford to maintain them; you forget,. Jem,
that everything falls on my hands."
"I don't, mother," he said, unsteadily; "I know
how hard you work, and Kitty and I don't want
you to slave yourself to death; we should be
satisfied with less,.but he is our own real grand-
father, and it aint fit for him to be where he is;
the cottage itself seems to be tumbling dowfi, and
the walls are green from damp-take them in


for a couple of weeks," 'he pleaded, as the forlorn
miserable condition of the old man rose before him.
"It's a sheer impossibility; you talk as though
I didn't seem to see things as you do, Jem, but I
tell you I can't earn enough to keep us all, and
I've work enough without taking any more upon
my shoulders; grandad never hardened his hands
with toil, and he can bear being uncomfortable as
well as most."
For the moment there was more of bitterness
than any other feeling in her heart, she could not
forget the fair prospects with which he had begun
life-the last of a sturdy independent race.
"It's through no fault of ours that he's come
to such a pass."
Whose fault is it, mother ?"
Why, the man who worked such ruin to him,
his own son Abel, he owes all his misfortunes to
him. Your father would have helped grandad if
he would .have cut himself adrift from that
swindler, but he wouldn't, he went doggedly to
his own end, and now it seems that Abel has left
him alone in the helplessness of his old age; it's
what he might have expected, only he never
looked ahead."



"Don't you think, mumsie, it would be better
to forget the past ?"
Jem spoke very simply and quietly; and all the
while Kitty's eyes, shining with sympathy, were
fixed upon his face.
"It's easy to talk, Jem, and some folks are fine
at making plans, but it's none so easy for-them
that's got to carry them out; I shall do what I
think right, but I don't see how I can possibly
take them in."
We don't fill the whole house, mother." Jem
felt a little desperate.
"That may be." And Mrs. Turner's thoughts
went to her spare room-the prettiest little room
in the house, where everything was spotless, and
fair, and clean; she looked at the pleading face
and shook her head, then she looked back again
at the wistful eyes-a little pucker was between
his brows-and the hard look faded from her face.
" The lad has his father's nature," she told herself,
"just Martin's way, always after doing a kind act
for others, with just his eyes and smile."
"You are bent as usual on getting your own
way, Jem."
Mrs. Turner spoke sharply, not from anger but


from intensity of feeling, her heart was touched
in spite of herself; and Kitty, who was watching
them curiously, knew that he seldom appealed in
vain, there was something in Jem that always
did win his mother, though it was not often that
he made quite so bold a request.
"I want to try and see if we can't make things
nicer for them," he said, twisting his fingers
through his hair; "you always like to try and
make other people happy, mumsie, and Mr.
Chipcot says, 'if we bear the burden of others we
lighten our own.'"
"I daresay; but if I take them in and Abel
comes back, everything will be just as bad as ever.
I can't do it, Jem."
"Perhaps something else will turn up for them,'
said Kitty, things do sometimes, you know."
"Hold your peace, Kitty, until you're spoken
to; what do you know about it ?"
And Kitty shrank back into her usual quiet
little self again.
Mrs. Turner heaved a heavy sigh, a great weight
seemed to have settled on her mind. It had been
her habit to put a brave face on things, and she
thought her children were ignorant of the sense


of.care and heaviness that often weighed upon her
spirit, but in the young filial hearts there was
intense sympathy and thought for her in all her
The tears started to her eyes, she tried to brush
them away without being seen, but her lip was.
twitching with emotion.
"Ah, well," she said, "it is a world for changes.
-a weary wicked world. We must give up think-
ing and let things go till to-morrow," she rose
quietly from her seat and busied herself in the
room for a moment in, silence, but Jem still
lingered. Kitty eyed him keenly, she could see
that something disturbed him still, and that he
seemed at a loss in what he wanted to say; his
big eyes were wet, and he was winking hard to
keep back his tears. Ais interest in the grand-.
father who had hitherto been only as a name to
him was intense; and as he saw again the mean
dingy abode-the broken window panes stuffed
With rags-his state of mind was such that he felt
he could not be denied. The seeds of kindly feel-
ing had been sown in his young heart, and the
force of Mr. Chipcot's example, added to the
teaching, had caused it to take deep'root; he


hesitated before speaking again, because of his
unwillingness to add to his mother's trouble.
The old clock in the corner struck the midnight
hour, then with the courage of desperation he
blurted out,
"Have we nothing but what you earn, mother?"
"That's best known to myself, Jem; it's-not
necessary to explain to a boy like you what
money I have laid by; what I have is my own.
You think me very hard-hearted," she continued,
with heightened colour, "I see it quite plainly in
your eyes; but you need not fear, I am not going
to let grandad lie there without a soul to do for
him-I shall get hired help, and send them a trifle
now and then when I can spare it."
Jem gave his head a little jerk.
"We should never never be any the poorer for
taking them in, mumsie. Kit and I don't know
what it is to be pinched, but their hearth is bare
enough; they can't look for such things as we get.
I shall think of him all night when I lie cuddled
among the blankets."
But Mrs. Turner didn't feel "fiddle-de-dee at
all as she turned her eyes away from the face s6


full of pleading-she felt it hard to believe in the
reality of the old man's existence, for years she
had regarded him as dead, he had cut himself off
so utterly from the old life, and to find him alive
and a pauper in their own village was a great
shock to her. A question burned upon her lips,
and yet she felt she dare not frame it.
"I can't think how ever they came to live in an
out-of-the-way place like this," she said; "what
brought them here, Jem, you seem well-versed in
all their particulars ?"
Jem hesitated.
"They wanted to go to some place where no
one would know them." He looked up into the
set face and wished he could see again the little
show of feeling of a few minutes ago. "You
wouldn't have had me pass by and take no notice,
would you, mumsie; though he has sunk so low,
he is still our grandad."
"And the shabby-looking girl is my cousin,"
thought Kitty, as she listened with eager atten-
tion to all that passed. They seemed to be find-
ing out so many things, something unexpected
had been happening all day, and the eyes so tired
a short while ago were bright and excited now.


"Ay !" said Mrs. Turner in answer to Jem,
"and the village won't be long in finding it out;
when folks hear the name it will be the talk of
the whole country round."
"And why should we care ?" said Jem, stoutly,
"none will think the worse of us."
But Mrs. Turner did care, and she was destined
to care still more and to wish that no blood rela--
tionship existed between them as she at last
heard from Jem what she had shrank from asking
in words.
"Mumsie," and Jem's voice took almost a
shamed tone, "you said a little while ago that if
you gave grandad and Dinah a lodging, things
would be as bad as ever if Uncle Abel came back."
Mrs. Turner winced slightly at the word
"uncle"-she loathed the thought of his blood
being in her children.
"Well, Jem." She gave herself a little shake
to pull herself together.
"He will never come here to plague us, mother,
he is-is- "
"Dead, I suppose !" with a touch of sharpness
in her tone.
"No, not dead, but dying," Jem's voice was a


little husky; "they say his life only hangs by a
thread, he is in prison, mumsie."
"In jail! Martin's brother-his own flesh and
blood-in jail," she ejaculated with dismay; a hot
red flush crossed her brow, and she threw her
hands out with a gesture of denial.
"It isn't true, Jem !"
"Yes, mother, it is true, every word of it," and
he shrank back a little as the whole expression of
her face changed and quivered as with pain.
," God knows I didn't expect this," she said,
brokenly, "that Martin's brother should die dis-
graced." She could no longer keep the agitation
into which the words had thrown her to herself,
it seemed as if her limbs could not support her as
she sank back again into her arm-chair and rested
'her face in her hands.
SFor afew minutes there was no sound save the
drowsy purr of the tabby on the rug, and Kitty
stole quietly out of the room to bed, awed at the
sight of her mother's weeping; but Jem stood by
her side until she lifted her head and the burst of
tears was over.
"Mumsie, don't look like. that," he cried, laying
his hand on hers; "things will come right again,


mumsie, never fear." He looked affectionately in
her face, and then he stooped and kissed her.
"I can't believe it," she said, "leave me alone, Jem,
and let me.think it out a bit-the disgrace is the
thing that hurts me most, that Martin's brother
should bring shame on an honest name." The
furrows on her brow deepened and -the troubled
look grew more troubled still as she thought upon
the bitter past-the shipwrecked years-and all
the misery he was then enduring.
"What has he done, Jem ? "
"Swindled his employers out of a lot of money;
he has got seven years, mother, but he won't live
seven weeks. Mr. Chipcot," and there was a
thrill in Jem's voice, "is going to visit him in
jail before this next week is out, aint it thunder-
ing good of him, mumsie ?"
"Ay! he is an angel of goodness; we haven't
got the settling of it, but if human help can avail
with Abel the curate is the right man to give it.
Poor wandering sheep, he'll feel the need there of
both sympathy and counsel, and Mr. Chipcot will
be faithful in dealing with his soul. I don't know
what there is about him that makes everybody
love him, but they do; they tell me there isn't a


man or a lad in the village who wouldn't run any-
where at his bidding."
"It's a way he has of saying things that stick
in one's mind afterwards," said Jem, "we can't
forget them, and he's always ready to do a good
-turn to others if they are in trouble or-want."
"Ay !" she said again, "I expect that is it; and
it's a deal easier to be selfish in this world than
kind and loving. I don't care to be preached at
by anybody, I need no man to tell me my duty,
but a word from a Christian like him goes a long
way, and I hope he'll give me a call before he
sees Abel. Ah! well," she said, quietly, the past
must be buried and forgotten now; go to bed, my
lad, and we'll.talk things over by daylight."
And with this Jem was fain to be content, for
in his mother's present state of feeling he thought
it wise to refrain from further pleading.



" j AVE we no money but what you earn,
S mother? "
-- Mrs. Turner repeated the question
to herself over and over again as she leaned her
head against the cushion and dreamily watched
the fire burn lower and lower. The sense
of drowsiness had worn off, she could neither rest
nor sleep, so she sat up alone in her little parlour
to think it all out.
"I aint at peace with no one to-night, leastways
with myself; maybe," she said with a big sigh;
"it will ease my mind if I think back a bit.
I've had little thought to spare for the past, and
little care about it since Martin died, but the old
things come back upon.me to-night, and it makes
one's heart feel a bit soft like to remember."


And as she sat on buried ifi thought, she lost
sight of the present and:only dwelt upon the past.
The fire light flickered more feebly, and finally
went out unheeded. Little incidents of the far
away days that had happened long ago in her life
came back to her, and pictures of the past stole
out upon her sight. She was a slip of a girl again
in the old Devonshire village, where Martin was
working on the farm with his father; she could
see all the thatched cattle-sheds and rick-yards,
the old plough as it turned up the stubble, and
she wondered if the golden daffodils still grew near
the water's edge at the bottom of the ploughed
six-acre, or the downy catkins on the willow trees
abovethe stream; she could hear the noise of the
flail in the barn, the clatter of the milkers' shoes
as they returned in the evening, when the sky
seemed full of a pink and primrose -light, with
their milk tins full to the brim the shaggy head
of the old dog seemed close to her face, and her
eyes grew dim as she recalled all the familiar
sights and sounds of the old days.
"Ah! work and trouble take the romance out
of one's nature," she said softly, "but I mind me
it did me good to see the beautiful flowers brim-


ming up all round in Martin's garden-'the Lord's
Creation,' he used to say as we walked round the
old-fashioned plot and admired the big bushes of
cabbage roses, weighted to the ground, the great red
peonies, the orange poppies, and marigolds, stand-
ing up so stately among the Canterbury bells. I
was better satisfied with the warp of providence
in those days, but I was a vain lass too-not that
I was ever anything worth looking at, but I always
kept myself to myself, and Martin fancied me
somehow when I was a little red-headed school
girl, scarcely out of my pinafores, and we all
learned to cypher and spell together in the old
village schoolhouse. It's different now, but boys
and girls were all mixed in my day. Folks said I
wasn't a suitable wife for Martin-such a marriage
was not to be thought of-they wanted some one
a little more dashing and handsome for the farmer's
son; but he had made up his mind, and when he
had no one had any power to move him from his
purpose. My lot in life was a deal lower than his,
for he came of a fine old stock, and lived at the
farm; and my home was at the little corner shop
where customers could always buy early vege-
tables, fresh water-cresses, and bunches of sweet-


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