CHAPTER XIII.
Tom and Posy watched little Nancy with distressed countenances as she lay on the lounge so still and white.
“Don’t be frightened,” said Mrs. Winton, as she caught sight of their faces, that were almost as pale as the little match-girl’s; “she has only fainted and will be well again in a few minutes.”
So Mrs. Winton bathed the child’s forehead with cold water, and Hannah fanned her with a palm-leaf fan.
“Tom,” said Mamma, “I wish you would bring me a pitcher of cold water fresh from the pump.” But there was no answer, and Mamma looked around. Both of the children were gone. Just as the little match-girl opened her eyes Tom appeared carrying a pillow, and Posy brought up the rear with a bottle of cologne in one hand and all the playthings she could carry under the other arm.
“I thought the little girl would like to have my pillow under her head,” said Tom, handing it to Mamma.
“It was very thoughtful,” answered Mamma.
“And Posy brought the bottle of German cologne she got on her birthday,” added Tom, as Posy stood shyly behind him; “she’s been keeping it for you when you have a headache, but she says she wants the little girl to have it because she didn’t believe she ever had any nice German cologne before.”
Posy felt paid for the little sacrifice she had made when Mamma smiled at her. Meanwhile Nancy was sitting up, looking around her with a bewildered air.
“She probably ate something that hurt her,” said Hannah; “there’s no telling what these kind of people eat. A good dose of thoroughwort would fetch her out of this.”
“What did you have for your breakfast, my dear?” asked Mrs. Winton kindly.
“I didn’t have any breakfast,” answered the child.
“What did you eat for your supper last night?” asked Mrs. Winton.
“I didn’t have any supper, either,” said the little match-girl.
“How happened it, my child?” asked Mrs. Winton, with a serious face.
“I couldn’t sell any matches, so she didn’t give me anything to eat. She said I didn’t earn my salt.”
“Who is she?”
“The woman where I live,” answered the child.
“Is she your relative?” asked Mrs. Winton.
“I don’t know,” answered the child.
“Hannah,” said Mrs. Winton, “bring me a bowl of bread and milk. It is as I suspected; the child is half starved.”
Posy came around to Mamma’s side, and leaned against her in what Hannah called “Posy’s coaxing way.”
“Don’t send her back to that horrid woman, will you, Mamma?” she whispered.
“I will look after her, my darling, you may be sure,” said Mamma.
“But you will let her stay, won’t you, Mamma?” repeated Posy.
“I will let her stay till she feels well again, and then I will find out about her,” answered Mamma soothingly. “Don’t be troubled, Posy; I love my own little children too well not to try to make all other children happy.”
Posy looked greatly relieved.
Tom had been silently watching the little match-girl, and listening eagerly to what Mamma said to Posy. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his new top and looked lovingly at it.
“She can have my new top if she wants it,” he said to Mamma.
“I am glad you thought of it, my dear, but I don’t think little girls care much for tops,” said Mamma.
An expression of relief came over Tom’s face; for the new top was very dear to him, and he had saved the money for it, cent by cent.
“Do you think she would like to have Miss Pompadour?” asked Posy.
“We will see that she has playthings,” said Mamma; “but first of all she needs food, and here comes Hannah with the bread and milk.”
The poor child ate greedily, the children looking on with intense satisfaction.
That afternoon Major was harnessed to the carryall; and Mr. Winton, with Tom and Posy, and little Nancy for a guide, set out for Nancy’s old home. A ride was an unknown and undreamed-of treat to the neglected child, and the kindness with which she was received almost overpowered her.
Although Nancy had lived such a joyless life, her powers of observation were unusually acute; and the stories she related to Posy, who sat beside her on the back seat, were so very novel and interesting that Tom forgot to ask to drive, and listened as intently as Posy did. She told them about Billy, and the bright-eyed sparrow, and the baby sparrows, and the little blind gray kitten; and in this way the time passed so very quickly that they reached their destination before the children had heard half enough.
Mr. Winton went into the house and left the children in the carriage.
Nancy pointed out the little house where the bright-eyed sparrow lived; and there she was at the door of the house.
“She’s going to teach the young birds how to fly,” said Nancy; and the children watched with great interest.
First the mother bird hopped down to the branch below, and the little sparrows came to the door of the house and looked down. Their mother gave a little call, but they only stretched their necks farther out and looked timidly down, as if the distance seemed to them very great. The mother bird called again, louder and more decidedly. Then they fluttered their little wings and hopped up and down, but dared not venture out of their nest. The mother bird, evidently thinking that a little discipline was required, hopped back and gave each one a little peck, and actually drove them out of the nest. Then she showed them how to fly. She flew around in short circles, and then back again. Soon one of the little sparrows grew bold, and flew a very little way and then came back; but he seemed very proud of what he had done and tried it over again many times. Then, encouraged by his example, the other two ventured out; and they too grew quite brave, and flew better every time they tried.
By this time the door of the house opened, and Mr. Winton appeared, followed by a woman, at sight of whom little Nancy shrank back in the carriage and looked frightened.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Tom; “if she comes here I’ll give her a good hit and send her off howling.”
“No, indeed,” said Posy; “we shan’t let her touch you.”
“If you take the child you take her for good and all. I ain’t a going to take her back when you’ve got sick of your bargain,” they heard the woman say, as she held the door open with one hand.
“I take her for good and all,” answered Mr. Winton, as he turned from the door and came towards the carriage.
“Nancy,” he said, when they had driven a few minutes in silence, “how should you like to stay with us?”
“Oh!” cried Posy, clapping her hands and jumping up and down with joy, “I thought it would end so, you dear, good, kind Papa!” and Posy threw her arms around Papa’s neck, and hugged him till she knocked off his hat and nearly fell out of the carriage herself.
“I should like it very much indeed,” said Nancy, with a gleam of happiness in her dark eyes.
So little Nancy went to her new home, and a cot-bed was put in Hannah’s room for her.
“Hannah’s awful cross,” said Tom to Nancy.
“But her’s good, Tom,” said Posy.
“‘Her bark’s worse than her bite,’ Papa says.”
Meanwhile old Graywhisker was almost beside himself with rage at the overthrow of his hopes. When he escaped from the barn-cat, he disappeared down the private entrance to the barn and remained there quietly until he was sure the barn-cat was out of the way. Then he crept cautiously out and ran to his own hole.
When he emerged from the long, dark passage-way into his living-room, imagine the confusion that met his eyes! His bed torn to pieces and scattered all around, and his precious hen’s egg that he had transported with so much care and difficulty, broken! He gave a quick glance up at the nail where he had hung the red ribbon with the gold figures on it. It was empty.
“Gone!” he shrieked. “Stolen! but I’ll be revenged! This will be the dearest piece of mischief you ever did, my dear barn-cat! I’d give a good deal to know who was the cat’s paw this time;” and his shrewd old eyes peered keenly about for some traces left by the thief. “Aha!” he said, with an ugly grin that showed the broken tooth in front; and he sat on his haunches and held up a little gray feather. “It was you, was it, my dear little cock-sparrow? The barn-cat sent you in, did she, to get the chestnuts out of the fire for her? I wonder, my dear friends, if before very long you’ll wish you had left the little ribbon alone! The old rat will be one too many for you, my dear creatures, I am afraid!”
In this way Graywhisker gave vent to his rage and disappointment, and sat a long time considering how to take his revenge. Then he decided to hold a midnight meeting in his house, where there was no danger of being disturbed; and the meeting was very fully attended, and the result kept strictly private.
The next afternoon the little gray kitten was seated in front of the barn washing herself, when her attention was attracted by a little mouse that ran in front of her. The gray kitten could not see very well, and she seldom succeeded in catching anything; but this little mouse ran so very near that she couldn’t help seeing it, and she quickly ran after it.
The mouse ran into the barn and up the stairs, followed very closely by the gray kitten, and then disappeared into a large hole under the mow. The gray kitten was not very large herself, and the hole was so big that she followed the little mouse in. There was a much smaller hole at the other end; and out of that the mouse ran, but it was too small for the gray kitten to follow and she turned to go back. What was her surprise and terror to find the entrance closed up with a pile of hay, and that she was a prisoner!
“I understand now,” said the poor little gray kitten to herself, “why that mouse ran so near me. It was done to get me into this trap, and that Graywhisker was at the bottom of it.”
“The poor child ate greedily.”—Page [170.]