“At least, you aren’t the only one bothered about the question of hoarding,” I said. “I’m also wrestling with the problem. Look here,” and I led the way to the larder and gave details. “I’ve been wondering whether, as I relieved you of your hoard, you could assist me out with mine! Will you accept a piece of griskin, merely to get it off my premises?”
Miss Primkins was almost tearful in her thanks. “It’s so strange you should have thought to offer this,” she said in a sort of broken hesitation, “because I’m going to Cardiff by the first train to-morrow to see my sisters. I always like to take them a little something, you understand. They have big families, and business is bad now; and, of course, coming from the country—— Only eggs are so dear, and fowls such a price; and just now—well, you know—dividends aren’t coming in as they did, and I’ve my three houses standing empty, and such a big bill for repairs, and—— Only, of course,” rallying herself, “I’m heaps better off than those poor Belgians; but oh, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for your kindness. You see, I was keeping that £12 by me in case I should be ill—we never know, do we?—or to meet the rent if I should run short. Please pardon my speaking of these things, only—you understand,” and the poor lady blushed to think she should have let herself refer to finances.
Yes, I understood. Rumour had already reached me that Miss Primkins had only used three hundredweight of coal through the whole of the winter (of course, in our village everybody knows how much everybody else buys of everything), and she had been seen out in the woods gathering sticks. She had cut her milk down to a half-pint a day, and that was consumed by Rehoboam (the cat). She seldom had any meat, and practised all sorts of pitiful little economies, living chiefly on the vegetables she had grown in her garden. But she never let anything interfere with a coin going into the Sunday offertory, or her knitting for the troops; and she gave a donation to the Red Cross Fund as gladly as anyone.
It makes one’s heart ache to think how many poor elderly ladies there are up and down the land, who have lost what at best was but a very modest meed of comfort, in the present financial upheaval; and these have additional anxiety in the fact that it would be torture to them were their poverty paraded before the world. They have not the physical strength to engage in national work, though their spirits are valiant enough for any self-sacrifice. So, since it is all they can do for their country, they shoulder their burdens uncomplainingly, keeping a frail body alive on sugarless tea and sparsely-buttered bread, while they knit long, long thoughts into socks and comforters, if by any means they can raise the money to purchase the wool.
No Fund is large enough to embrace such as these; no charity could ever meet their case. All the same they are part of the bulwark strength of England, these dear, faithful women, who in old age and feeble health hide their own privations beneath a brave exterior, willing to make any personal sacrifice rather than Might should triumph over Right.
“Miss Primkins!” I exclaimed, when I heard of the Cardiff visit, “I believe you’re the good fairy who, I used to think, lived at the entrance to the waterfall cave under the hill; and I’m certain you’ve been sent up here for the explicit purpose of relieving me of that meat! If you’re going to Cardiff, it’s your clear duty to take a griskin to each of your sisters—hearty-eating boys, did you say? Good! That will rid me of two! Well, you’ll find them at the station in the morning waiting for the 9 o’clock train—we’ll do them up to look like hothouse grapes and pineapples.”
Of course she protested, but I remained firm; as I told her, I wasn’t going to let slip such a heaven-sent opportunity to get those joints transported for life.
When Virginia and Ursula put them in the railway carriage next morning, she asked if they would mind, as they passed her house on their way home, seeing if they could find Rehoboam; he hadn’t come back for his milk, and she couldn’t wait for him. They would find the door-key under the fourth flower-pot on the right hand window-sill; and if he was waiting on the step (his usual custom about half-past nine) would they be so kind as to give him the milk that was in the larder? Then she need not worry any more about him.