Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles

by Mrs. Henry Wood

Mrs. Halliburton struggled on. A struggle, my reader, that it is to be hoped, for your comfort's sake, you have never experienced, and never will. She had learnt the stitch for the back of the gloves, and Mr. Lynn supplied her with a machine and with work. But she could not do it quickly as yet; though it was a hopeful day for her when she found that her weekly earnings amounted to six shillings.

Mrs. Reece paid her twenty shillings a week. Or rather, Dobbs: for Dobbs was paymaster-general. Of that, Jane could use (she had made a close calculation) six shillings, putting by fourteen for rent and taxes. Her taxes were very light, part of them being paid by the landlord, as was the custom with some houses in Helstonleigh. But for this, the rent would have been less. Sorely tempted as she was, by hunger, by cold, almost by starvation, Jane was resolute in leaving the fourteen shillings intact. She had suffered too much from non-payment of the last rent, not to be prepared with the next. But—the endurance and deprivation!—how great they were! And she suffered far more for her children than for herself.

One night, towards the middle of February, she felt very downhearted: almost as if she could not struggle on much longer. With her own earnings and the six shillings taken from Mrs. Reece's money she could count little more than twelve shillings weekly, and everything had to be found out of it. Coals, candles, washing—that is, the soap, firing, etc., necessary for Miss Betsy Carter to do it with; the boys' shoe-mending and other trifles, besides food. You will not, therefore, be surprised to hear that on this night they had literally nothing in the house but part of a loaf of bread. Jane was resolute in one thing—not to go into debt. Mrs. Buffle would have given credit, probably other shops also; but Jane believed that her sole chance of surmounting the struggle eventually was by keeping debt, even trifling debt, away. They had this morning eaten bread for breakfast; they had eaten potatoes and salt for dinner; and now, tea-time, there was bread again. All Jane had in her pocket was twopence, which must be kept for milk for the following morning; so they were drinking water now.

They were round the fire; two of the boys kneeling on the ground to get the better blaze, thankful they had a fire at all. Their lessons were over for the day. William had been thoroughly well brought on by his father, in Greek, Latin, Euclid, and in English generally—in short, in the branches necessary to a good education. Frank and Gar were forward also; indeed, Frank, for his age, was a very good Latin scholar. But how could they do much good or make much progress by themselves? William helped his brothers as well as he could, but it was somewhat profitless work; and Jane was all too conscious that they needed to be at school. Altogether, her heart was sore within her.

Another thing was beginning to worry her—a fear lest her brother should not be able to send the rent. She had fully counted upon it; but, now that the time of its promised receipt was at hand, fears and doubts arose. She was dwelling on it now—now, as she sat there at her work, in the twilight of the early spring evening. If the money did not come, all she could do would be to go to Mr. Ashley, tell him of her ill luck, and that he must take the things at last. They must turn out, wanderers on the wide earth; no——

A plaintive cry interrupted her dream and recalled her to reality. It came from Jane, who was seated on a stool, her head leaning against the side of the mantel-piece.

"She is crying, mamma," cried quick Frank; and Janey whispered something into Frank's ear, the cry deepening into sobs.

"Mamma, she's crying because she's hungry."

"Janey, dear, I have nothing but bread. You know it. Could you eat a bit?"

"I want something else," sobbed Janey. "Some meat, or some pudding. It is such a long time since we had any. I am tired of bread; I am very hungry."