TOMMY TREGENNIS,
Chapel Garth,
East Draeth.
This was the address on a cheap, white envelope that the postman
brought on Boxing Day and pushed through the gap below the door. Mrs.
Tregennis picked up the letter and turned it over more than once
before passing it on to her husband.
"Well, it beats me, Ellen," said he; "'tis a female hand for certain.
Who can be makin' up to our Tommy?"
Mrs. Tregennis went to the door and espied Jimmy Prynne. "Seen our
Tommy?" she asked him.
Jimmy jerked his thumb over his right shoulder, and Mrs. Tregennis
walked in the direction indicated.
"Tommy," she called.
But Tommy, conscious of grimy hands and sticky mouth, thought this was
a summons to wash, and affected not to hear. Something on the horizon
claimed his attention and he gazed fixedly out to sea.
Mrs. Tregennis, therefore, waved the white envelope in vain. "Tommy,
postman's brought a letter for ee, for your very own."
This was arrestive. Very few letters came to the house when there were
no visitors, and never before had there been one for Tommy. Often,
certainly, he had picked up old envelopes, and by licking the torn
flaps had made them stick down for a time so that he could pretend
that they were letters that had come for him. But now there was a real
letter all for his very own, and it was held in Mammy's hand only a
few yards off. He ran hastily, tripped over a stone, picked himself up
and ran on again. Then he actually held his own real letter in his
grimy hand.
He could read the two capital T's without any difficulty, and of
course he knew that they stood for his name. This knowledge gave him
much satisfaction; it was a fine thing to be educated. He was all for
opening the envelope then and there, but, persuaded by Mammy, they
returned to the house together, and in Daddy's presence the flap was
torn.
Inside the envelope was a gilt-edged card. At the top left-hand corner
of this a gaily-dressed boy with powdered hair was bowing to a Watteau
shepherdess who curtsied before him. The picture absorbed them until
Mammy discovered that there was interest, too, in the old-fashioned,
pointed handwriting below:
"Miss Lavinia invites Tommy Tregennis to a party on New Year's Day,
from four o'clock until seven."
There was no R.S.V.P. in the bottom, right-hand corner. The invited
guests would not have known what it meant; but when New Year's Day
came of course all who were bidden to the party would go.
"My dear life," ejaculated Mammy. "I was never at a Christmas party in
all my born days. You'm a lucky boy, Tommy Tregennis!"
Tommy nodded.
After dinner on New Year's Day there was no rest for Mrs. Tregennis
until Tommy was dressed in the new brown jersey suit. He was ready
before half-past two and wished to set off for the party at once. When
Mammy, however, pictured to him how very disappointed Granny and Aunt
Keziah Kate would be if he did not go and show himself in his new
clothes, he decided to run in to see them first. He was gratified when
they unstintingly praised his personal appearance, although it was
only what he had expected.
With one little thing or another it was half-past three before Tommy
was able to leave for Miss Lavinia's house. On such an occasion as
this no-one would have thought of referring to it as school. Following
his usual custom Tommy called for his cousin. He was much taken aback
when Auntie Jessie told him that Ruthie was upstairs and was not quite
ready, but would be brought to the party later.
Ruthie's absence took some of the brightness out of the afternoon, and
as he drew nearer and nearer to Miss Lavinia's house Tommy became
unaccountably shy. To add to his embarrassment when he reached the
familiar door he found it shut, instead of standing invitingly open as
on ordinary school days. At the sight of the closed door the last
particle of courage left him, and he wished to run home fast and have
tea quietly with Mammy. Yet something urged him to be brave, and he
screwed up his hand tight, ready to hammer on the door. It was just at
this point that a gentleman walking down the street, seeing a small
boy and a high knocker, crossed over to Tommy and gave a loud rat-tat
to help him. Smiling he passed on, leaving Tommy more deeply
embarrassed than before.
When Miss Lavinia, wearing her best black silk dress and a gold
locket, herself answered the knock Tommy stood still, not quite
knowing what to do next. When she stooped and kissed him he flushed
deeply, then, with a broad smile of anticipation, stood flat against
the wall in the narrow passage while she closed the door.
Miss Lavinia, who was really just as shy and nervous as her guests,
led the way into the schoolroom, and here the sense of unfamiliarity
deepened. The desks and maps had gone and the room was hung with
evergreens. Round the fire stood children whom Tommy saw every single
day and never before had he been at a loss in entering upon a
conversation with any one of them. This afternoon, however, he found
nothing to say, and they all looked at one-another in silence.
Miss Lavinia felt that the party was a failure and grew more and more
nervous as the silent moments were ticked out by the school-room
clock. She went away presently to speak to Mrs. Harris about the tea.
Mrs Harris was the woman who came in for an hour now and again to
help with the rough work, and she had volunteered to be there this
evening just to see Miss Lavinia through.
A very genteel knock at the door put an end to Miss Lavinia's
superfluous directions. There was hushed expectancy among the groups
of children gathered round the fire when she ushered into the
schoolroom Ruthie's mother leading Ruthie by the hand.
Ruthie was the only child who had been brought.
In the very middle of the room she stood while her mother freed her
from the folds of a big Paisley shawl. Then she was revealed to
nineteen pairs of admiring eyes--a little girl in a white silk frock;
the only white silk frock in the room.
"It is to save her Sunday dress," Ruthie's mother explained to Miss
Lavinia. "You see this will wash."
She then lifted her daughter on to a table at the far end of the room,
and with a whispered injunction that she must on no account mess up
her clothes she left.
The spell that until now had held the children was broken. Half
envious, half admiring they gathered round the table and looked at
Ruthie in a real party frock. Her hair had been in so many plaits for
so many hours that it stood out crisply all round her head. But the
greatest wonder of all was her gloves. Ruthie was actually wearing
gloves! White cotton gloves they were, held up at the top by a band of
black elastic; a band so tight that it had already made a groove in
each little arm between the elbow and the wrist.
Tommy was the only one brave enough to speak about them. "You've
forgotten to take off your gloves, Ruthie."
"Mammy said to keep 'em on."
"Whafor?"
"I don't know."
"Take 'em off," said Tommy, and Ruthie, as usual, obeyed.
The gloves and elastic bands were laid on the table, and from there
they fell to the floor. A kick from Tommy sent them into a corner
where Mrs. Harris found them the next morning when she came to tidy
up.
The summons to tea broke up the group. Ten very shy little girls and
ten boys trying hard to look at ease, walked along the narrow passage
to Miss Lavinia's kitchen. Here table and chairs had been replaced by
trestle-boards and forms.
It was a tight squeeze but a place was found for all the guests who,
in deep embarrassment, looked at the well-piled plates in front of
them.
Miss Lavinia and Mrs. Harris walked round filling tea cups and passing
plates.
In the deep silence Miss Lavinia quite dreaded the sound of her own
voice. She grew more and more nervous. She had given so much thought
to this, her first (and last!) little party. For weeks past she had
exercised numerous economies to make the giving of it possible, and
now that it was actually happening it was all a failure. The children
were not happy and there were still three hours to drag through. Her
mouth was so dry that she had to clear her throat and moisten her lips
before she could ask Ruby Dark to have more tea; and her words came so
jerkily that Ruby was surprised almost to the point of tears.
Then Mrs. Harris came to the rescue. "Where be they crackers, Miss
Lavinia?" she demanded, and Miss Lavinia, opening the cupboard door,
brought out two gay boxes with twelve beautiful crackers lying closely
and shinily side by side.
First each girl was given one and pulled it with the boy sitting near
her, and they all screwed up their eyes and there were little cries of
fright when the pop came. By the time the boys were given their
crackers all the children were out of their places, jumping up and
down with excitement, proudly wearing paper bonnets with frills, and
three-cornered caps, and paper aprons whose strings would never meet
round any waist.
Miss Lavinia's nervousness suddenly passed. "Shoo!" she said as though
they were so many chickens. "Run back to the school-room."
She clapped her hands and they surged along the passage laughing,
jumping, poking one another; a boisterous band of happy children for
whom tea and the crackers had broken the ice.
First of all they would play "Hunt the Slipper," and therefore they
must all sit in a ring.
"Mammy said not to sit on the floor," whispered Ruthie to Tommy.
"Sit down," said Tommy scornfully. Ruthie sat, and the game began.
The slipper went round and round and round. It was thrown across, and
up and back again, and Jimmy Prynne, outside the circle, grabbed and
missed and snatched again. There was much confusion, and no one quite
knew what anyone else was doing, or what they themselves were meant to
do, but it was a grand game, and in the merry laughter no-one joined
more heartily than Miss Lavinia herself.
Next came "Nuts and May," and "Blind Man's Buff." The blind man always
guessed the wrong number of fingers held up, and yet managed to see
just quite a little either above or below the handkerchief that
smelled so sweetly of lavender and had belonged to Miss Lavinia's
father years and years ago.
After this they were all so hot that they played "Postman's Knock" for
coolness. Jimmy Prynne went out first. He rapped sharply on the closed
door and Miss Lavinia opened it just a small crack and peered out into
the passage where Jimmy stood. Then followed the old-time dialogue,
dear to so many generations of children.
"Who's there?" said Miss Lavinia. Memories laid away in lavender these
many years were awakened by the foolish old game.
"Postman," replied a gruff, stern voice.
The children sitting in a row, waiting--waiting, laughed their
appreciation of Jimmy's dramatic power.
Then the dialogue continued. "What with?"
"A letter."
"How many stamps?" The air was tense.
"Fifteen stamps."
Then the most important question of all. "Who for?"
There was a pause on the part of the postman.
"Jimmy, Jimmy Prynne, choose me, Jimmy," and Ruby Dark stood up in her
excitement.
Jimmy hesitated.
Miss Lavinia, the doorkeeper, bent down, and in a very gentle whisper,
said: "Choose Ruby, Jimmy." And Ruby, shining eyes and chin uplifted
passed out into the dim light of the narrow passage, and there fifteen
kisses, each one carefully counted by the bearer of the letter, were
solemnly exchanged.
Every one had a letter. Miss Lavinia saw that nobody was forgotten.
She was childishly glad when Tommy chose her and the letter bore one
hundred stamps; although, as she explained when they were together in
the passage, there really was not time for all the hundred then, they
must be content with two and the rest could be delivered some other
day.
After this Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and the little dog, and the cushions,
and the whip, and the reins and all the other parts of the Old Family
Coach grew dizzier and dizzier with the restless whirling and turning
resulting from the many adventures and accidents that befell the coach
on its perilous summer morning's journey.
Christmas parties come all too quickly to an end. It was nearly time
to go home, but first of all would Miss Lavinia tell them a story? So
the lamp was turned out, and in the firelight Miss Lavinia began.
"Once upon a time" (every child looked straight into Miss Lavinia's
eyes). "Once upon a time, in the heart of a deep, green wood, a very
beautiful princess lived all alone. She had no father and no mother,
but all the creatures that flew, or crawled, or ran were her friends.
"It was always summer in the wood. So the princess wore beautiful
garments made of silken gossamer, and the spiders wove a new robe for
her every morning, just when the sun was up. When the new gossamer
robe was ready the birds flew to the boughs of the beech tree under
which the princess slept, and sang sweet songs until the princess sat
up and rubbed her eyes, and said: 'Why, it is day!'
"Then the birds flew away to look after their own families, and the
squirrels brought nuts and cracked them, and laid them at the feet of
the beautiful princess.
"She was never hungry, this beautiful princess, for such wonderful
fruits grew in the wood. She was never cold, for the sun shone all day
long. When night came, and the moon and the stars took the place of
the sun, she lay down under the beech tree that had stood there for
hundreds of years, and covered herself with bracken, and slept.
"She was perfectly happy, was the princess, until one night she had a
dream. It was the very first dream that she had ever had, and she
dreamed that she was alone. In the morning she sat up and rubbed her
eyes just at the dawn, long before the birds came. She looked down
through the long shadows of the trees. She was afraid, for 'I am
alone,' she said. It seemed a dreadful thing to be a beautiful
princess all alone in the heart of a deep, green wood."
A glowing coal fell from the fire. Miss Lavinia paused for a moment,
and for the first time the children stirred.
"When I'm growed up," said Ruthie, "I shall get married."
"You must wait until some one asks you, Ruthie," Miss Lavinia gently
reproved her.
"Didn't no-one never ask you, Miss Lavinia?" said Tommy, pushing a
hot, moist hand into hers. "'N so couldn't you never be married?"
"What happened to the Princess in the wood?" asked Jimmy Prynne
impatiently.
"Well, a butterfly that had also wakened very early flew round and
round the Princess, and then away from her, towards the shadows of the
trees. The Princess stood up and followed, one hand stretched out as
if to touch the coloured wings. The butterfly led her quite to the
edge of the wood. There, beyond the bracken that she gathered for her
bed under the beech tree, stood the most wonderful Prince in the
whole, wide world.
"And the Princess knew that she was no longer alone.
"'Come!' she said to the Prince.
"'There is magic,' he replied, 'and I cannot cross the bracken unless
you lead me by the hand.'
"So the Princess stepped through the high fern-fronds, and when she
held the hand of the Prince he kissed her. At his kiss a wind arose
and the branches of the trees waved to and fro. The birds twittered
uneasily, and there was a sound like thunder and falling rain. Then,
as hurrying shadows, the trees vanished. The Prince and the Princess
could no longer see the birds, but they heard the fluttering of their
wings overhead.
"There was a sudden lightning flash that made the Prince and Princess
close their eyes.
"When they opened them again they were no longer in the wood, but in a
room with a cheerful fire and a lighted lamp. The Princess had lost
her gossamer robe; she wore a blue serge frock and a white apron. The
Prince had on a blue jersey with a name on the front. They stood in
the little room hand in hand.
"'I am no longer alone,' said the Princess, and smiled.
"'Let us unlock the door,' said the Prince, 'then perhaps a little
child will come in.'
"So they drew back the bolt and waited!"
Tommy wriggled his hot hand from the clasp of Miss Lavinia's thin
fingers. "My Mammy'll be missin' me," he said, and struggled to his
feet. Then the clock struck seven.
Five minutes later twenty little people, in coats and mufflers, kissed
Miss Lavinia and ran out laughing into the winter night.
Miss Lavinia closed the door behind them and returned to the
firelight alone.