Uncle Jo's Old Coat

by Eleanora H. Stooke

"If they are they will prove themselves so," Mr. Collins remarked gravely; "don't distress yourself unnecessarily."

Freddy looked around in great agitation. He realised that if he continued to hold his tongue there might be trouble in store for the poor family that had had so much to contend against already, and Christmas was coming when everyone ought to be so happy, he thought. What sort of Christmas would he himself have with this guilty secret on his conscience? He felt he could not speak out; but whilst he was in hesitation, he met Edwin's eyes fixed upon him sadly and anxiously, and overcome with the dread of what his continued silence might lead to, and a sense of real remorse, he startled every one in the room by bursting into tears.

"Freddy, my dear boy, what is it?" asked his father, putting his arm tenderly around the little boy's heaving shoulders; "depend upon it your uncle will do nothing that is not right and just."

"Oh, I cannot bear it any longer, I must tell!" sobbed Freddy. "Oh, I don't know what you will all think of me, but—but—I—I gave away Uncle Jo's old overcoat!"

"You gave away my old overcoat!" the doctor exclaimed in utter amazement.

"Yes, Uncle Jo. I—I gave it to a poor old man who—who was selling bootlaces in the street," Freddy confessed in a low, shamed tone; "his clothes were ragged, and it was so—so cold. I went to the door and spoke to him, and gave him twopence—it was that Saturday afternoon I was at home alone—and he begged for some old clothes. I knew you meant to give away your old overcoat, but—you weren't at home, so I couldn't speak to you about it, and—I thought you wouldn't mind-I gave it to him and he went away."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Dr. Dennis asked reproachfully.

"I meant to tell you, Uncle Jo, indeed I did; but when I heard about your pocket-book with the money in it, I was too frightened, and afterwards I was too big a coward. I know I've behaved very badly. I've felt dreadful about it, and this afternoon when I saw your old coat on Bobby Lambert's bed I was nearly scared to death."

There was a brief silence, during which Freddy ventured to glance at the amazed countenances of his relations; his eyes fell as he met his father's sorrowful gaze, and he hung his head in bitter shame. How disappointed his father must be in him! His tears flowed afresh when Mr. Collins turned to his brother-in-law and said gravely, "I will not attempt to offer any excuse for Freddy's conduct; he has acted with a lack of moral courage and a deceptiveness which grieves and surprises me. After what has occurred, I fear you and my sister will be unwilling to have him beneath your roof another term; however, we will speak of that later on."

"Do you think the old man you gave the overcoat to is the father of the little girl and the little sick boy?" Poppy asked, suddenly addressing her cousin.