Janet; or, The Christmas Stockings

by Louise Élise Gibbons

But the summer, too, went on its way; and now October was here, with its chilly, windy nights; and the poor child was forced to appeal to the old apple-woman again. She consented to let her stay for five cents a night, provided she would bring enough sticks for the fire, and shine the apples, and scrub the floor. When this was done, the child, often very weary, would start out to sell her wares. Her appearance was so pitiful and appealing that although she only tried to sell to those who were nearly as poor as herself, she generally made at least enough to pay Aunt Betsy her five cents and get herself some food.

Roy was now employed by a regular newsdealer, so he made somewhat more. But their clothes were now very ragged, and Janet’s feet were nearly bare.

A few days after the Christmas when Janet got the stockings, the good Bishop was called out of town. Not forgetting the poor little waif he had befriended, he gave special instructions to some of his fellow-workers to investigate the case, and if it was found worthy, to minister to the wants of the family. They endeavored to carry out his instructions, but found the miserable garret occupied by strangers who knew nothing of little Janet or her family. When they inquired of the neighbors, they were told that the whole family had died of diphtheria, and everything that was in the room had been destroyed. Believing this report, of course they made no further effort to find poor little Janet. It seemed as if a network of misery had enveloped her, as if every avenue of relief had been blocked up.

But she still had Roy, and he had Janet, and each kept hope alive in the heart of the other. It was hope on which the two children lived day by day. It gave them sweet dreams at night, and with its beacon-light before them they were even happy in the midst of their miserable surroundings.

One day in October, Janet was trying to sell her wares along the Bowery; Roy was calling some extras on the other side, a little farther up the street.

Suddenly Janet missed the shrill voice, and looking to see what had become of him, she saw a crowd collecting about the spot where only a few minutes before she had seen Roy.

In an agony of dread, she hurried over, and, pushing her way through the crowd, followed the men who were carrying something into a drugstore. There she found poor Roy, stretched out, bleeding, on the floor. In crossing the street, he had been knocked down by a heavy wagon, and the wheel had crushed him.

With a cry of pain, she pushed her way to him and knelt down by his side. He opened his eyes when he heard her voice. They met hers in one long gaze. Their hands clasped; his lips moved. Bending over him, she heard him whisper, “Good-by, Janet!”

Roy was gone from her, and she was left alone.

She felt a warm breath on the hand that still held Roy’s, and, looking down, she saw the mongrel dog, who had broken away from the apple-stand and followed her. He licked her hand, and her tears fell on his head. As she put her arms round him, she felt that he was now her only friend.