THE CHARIOT RACE
I WAS rather frightened of teaching Denys's class, but I asked Aunt
Caroline what to do, and she told me, and I got my Bible and read over
the story of Samuel till I knew it by heart. And the next morning I
walked into the schoolroom with Aunt C., quite happy, for I felt as if
I was really "going" at last. (I must call Aunt Caroline "Aunt C." like
the boys, because it will take a shorter time to write.) I had my class
in the corner of the room away from Aunt C. There were four little boys
and three little girls, and none of them were older than six. They
smelt of soap and pomatum, and had very shiny faces and hair.
One of the boys, Freddie Galt, couldn't or wouldn't sit still, and
the three little girls were watching what he was doing the whole time
instead of attending to me. Freddy first pretended to catch a fly in
his hands, and then he offered it in turn to every one. And when they
held out their hands for it, he opened his and slapped them hard.
I couldn't keep him still, and at last I said to him very sternly,
"Freddy, if you can't keep still, I shall take you on my lap like a big
baby, and hold you there."
He stared at me in fright. If I had said I would whip him, I don't
believe he would have been half so frightened. And he stopped fidgeting
and was as good as gold all the rest of the time.
I told them the story of Samuel, and then I told them that God wants
all of us to be His servants and do what He tells us. Another boy,
Bertie, said at once:
"I never hears God a-callin' me in bed."
"No," I said, "but when you're going to do something naughty, He speaks
to you in your heart and tells you not to do it."
They seemed to understand this, and then one of them said thoughtfully:
"God can't slap us. He be too far away."
I told them how close He was, and how He loves us, and how we must try
to be good to please Him, not from fear of being punished.
But I don't know if they understood. They seemed to think the only
reason they must be good was not to be slapped or punished. And then
the smallest of the little girls said, nodding her head at me:
"I loves Jesus always, I does. When I'm good girl, I loves Him, and
when I'm naughty girl, I does."
"You can't love Him if you grieve Him," I said. "Jesus is grieved when
you're naughty."
"I loves Him just the same," she repeated.
And I felt it was no good telling her she oughtn't to love Him, so I
took no notice. But I was rather glad when the class was over. I felt
so hot and tired, and I told father after church I thought it was very
difficult to teach little children. He asked me what I had said to
them. And I told him, and he said:
"Keep to the Bible, Grisel; the seed sown comes up after many days.
Tell the little ones of their loving Saviour Who died for them, and Who
lives quite close to them now, and is willing to help them every hour
of the day. If your heart is full of Him, child, it will be easy to
talk to others about Him."
"But," I said, "my heart is so full of such lots of other things,
father. I can't help it. I'm not properly good at all."
"Do you love your Saviour?"
"Oh, I hope I do, I think I do, but I'm always doing what I oughtn't to
do."
"Don't be always looking at yourself, but look up at Him, and try to do
all things faithfully for Him."
He said no more. Father never says very much to us, but he always seems
just to say the thing you want. And if I try to be faithful all day
long, I expect that will keep me straight.
We had a discussion with the boys about being faithful. It was rather
a funny place to have it—in our donkey-cart. We went out after tea
yesterday evening for a drive. Denys drove, and Puff sat up on the
front seat with him, Lynette and Aylwin and I crammed in behind. It was
lovely. We drove right through the village, and everybody came to their
doors to look at us.
And then when we were out of sight of houses, we talked. It began with
Andy.
"I wonder if he knows us by this time," Lynette said.
"He'd be an ass if he didn't," said Aylwin quickly.
And then we all laughed at him.
"He is an ass," I said—"that's just the reason: if he was a dog, he
would be much cleverer."
"All dogs aren't clever," said Denys.
"But they're faithful," I said. "You always hear of faithful dogs,
never of faithful donkeys."
"What is it to be faithful?" said Lynette—"Full of faith?"
"No," said Denys, "a dog has no faith at all."
"I think," I said slowly, for I was thinking it out, "to be faithful is
to be always the same and never change. If you love a person once, you
love him always. If you do a thing once, you do it always."
"A faithful knight," said Denys, "is a man who never fails his lady.
She can be sure of him."
"What is a faithful servant?" Lynette asked.
"One who doesn't shirk his work," said Denys.
"I think you can't be faithful unless you love," I said.
"Yes, that's the tip," said Aylwin; "if a dog doesn't love his master,
he can't be faithful, nor can a knight be faithful if he doesn't love
his lady, nor a servant, nor a friend. They must go together."
"'Semper fidelis,'" I murmured.
"Don't you pretend you can quote Latin, Grizzy; you only got that off
the old chap's tomb in church."
"Yes, I did. What a lot faithful means! You must love, and be thorough,
and certain, and always the same, and never fail your master. It's
rather difficult to do all that."
"If you really love a person, you would do it naturally without
thinking about it; a dog does," said Denys.
"I suppose you would," I said, and then I began to wonder how big a
love I had for my Master.
But Puff suddenly turned the conversation by saying:
"I'm going to have a effelun net' birfday, and he'll be my very own. I
shan't have only a bit of him, like this ole donkey."
"What bit of the donkey have you got?" Lynette asked.
"He has one-fifth of it," said Denys. "Go on, you Puff-Bag, tell us
about your 'effelun.' Who will give it to you?"
"God," said Puff, nodding his head most earnestly. "It'll be mine very
own, and I shall wide on him, and he'll be bigger than our house."
At this moment we passed an old woman carrying a bundle of sticks over
her back.
"Hi!" Denys called out to her. "Are you going far? Would you like us to
take your load for you?"
She said Yes, and then called down blessings on our head. She pointed
out her cottage higher up the road; she had been gathering the sticks
in the wood and seemed to find them pretty heavy. Denys told her we
would leave them on her doorstep, so we rattled on.
"When I went to Morton Relton the other day, while you were at the
school-treat," said Denys, "I offered every one that I passed a lift in
the cart, and when I drove into the village, I had two old women and a
boy."
"What fun!" I said. "That's like the knights did in the olden times.
They rode out in search of adventures, and always took up weeping girls
behind them, and rode them home in safety."
"We'll do the same," said Aylwin enthusiastically; "we'll drive on and
rescue somebody from somebody."
"But there will be no room for any more in our cart," I said. "We're
crammed already."
"You'll have to get out and walk then," said Denys. "If we could meet
a broken-down carriage or motor, with a lady wringing her hands, that
would be the style!"
But we didn't meet any one, and we drove home without any adventures.
It set me thinking. It was very nice to drive about in a donkey-cart,
but that wasn't doing much good. At last I said, just as we were coming
past the signpost where we put up notices:
"Look here! I think when our holidays begin we ought to take it in
turns to have the donkey. I can drive the cart as well as you, Denys,
and I should like to do some business of my own sometimes. I think I
ought to have one day in the week at least."
"Well, there are six days in the week, not counting Sunday. We four
could have it in turns, and there would be two days over for father or
Aunt C. and Puff." Denys said this. He is always very just.
"Yes," said Aylwin, "and we'll begin the week according to age. Denys,
you can have it every Monday, I'll take it on Tuesday, Grizzy can have
it on Wednesday, and Lynette on Thursday."
We all thought this a splendid plan.
"And sometimes," Denys said, "we can change days with each other to
oblige."
I had a plan in my head which I wouldn't tell the boys, but I'm going
to write it down now. I have made out a notice, and I am going to paste
it on the signpost, and it's this:
"Anybody wanting parcels or themselves carried anywhere must apply to
Grisel Marjoribanks, The Rectory, on Wednesday morning early. Free of
Charge."
Everybody in the village loves our signpost; they always look up to see
if there is any notice on it, and I knew they would read mine. I told
Lynette about it this afternoon.
"It will be rather like a carrier," she said. "Won't it be a bother if
you want to go off and enjoy yourself somewhere?"
"No," I said; "I think I shall like doing it. You know father
always says his time, and as much as possible his goods, are at his
parishioners' service. So Andy is going to be at their service every
Wednesday. It is going to be a proper Rectory donkey! And I shall have
the fun of driving him."
"I shall have to think of what I shall do with Andy on my day out,"
said Lynette.
And I feel that she'll get into the most awful scrapes with him if she
can.
* * * * *
We thought the holidays were never coming, and father said the boys
oughtn't to have any holidays at all, because they had had so many
already. At last they came. Denys had been tearing along the road with
Andy as often as he could to try and get him in training for the 1st
of August. Aylwin said he ought to be dieted, to get his weight down.
He said race-horses were. Andy is getting rather fat; he eats so much
grass. He eats all day long without stopping, except when he is out
with us. But we didn't know what to give him. Oats cost a lot of money.
Lynette suggested strong beef-tea in a bucket, but beef-tea costs
money, and so does everything that makes you strong. Andy is a very
good donkey to go, and he has no tricks except that he sometimes stops
still in the road for a minute or two, and then he starts off again. I
say he does it for a rest, and to gather fresh strength. Denys says he
does it to think. Aylwin says he does it to show us he has a will of
his own, and he intends to use it sometimes.
Lynette and I were very busy making laurel crowns, and getting flowers
to trim up our cart. The day before the 1st, we worked all day long at
it.
We made some lovely rosettes of scarlet geraniums to put on Andy's
blinkers, and we had ferns and ox-eyed daisies all over the cart
outside, and we twined daisy chains round and round the shafts. Baldwin
wouldn't let us pick the best flowers, but we covered the whip-handle
with snap-dragons and sweet peas when he wasn't looking. And the boys
were awfully pleased with it. You see, I have helped at so many church
decorations that I know how to fix the flowers. Aunt C. let us have
dinner at half-past twelve. We all dressed in our best things, and
Lynette and I coaxed some roses out of Baldwin and put a wreath round
our hats.
Everybody came to see us off, and the village people were awfully
pleased with us. I heard one woman say to the other:
"Us do have grand toimes now. Us never knows what they be up to nex'.
'Tis always somethin' fresh they thinks of!"
We couldn't help giving a wild cheer as we drove through the village,
and Andy trotted off with his head up as pleased and proud as Punch.
We got to the field first. It was a nice flat one, and in one corner
of it under a tree Captain Rogers sat in his bath-chair. When he and
Mrs. Rogers saw us arrive, they could hardly believe it was us, for we
looked so grand.
Beatrice and Clarice arrived five minutes later, and then the first
difficulty happened. They wouldn't think of Aylwin being their
charioteer; they said they would drive themselves, as that would be
half the fun. Aylwin was awfully disappointed, and then Captain Rogers
thought of a splendid thing. He got out of his bath-chair and made
Mrs. Rogers help him into another one, and then he told Aylwin that
if he went to the farm, he could have his little pony that drew him
out, and harness him in his chair, and drive him. We simply screamed
with delight, as that made three chariots. And then to be quite fair,
we settled that Denys and I should drive in our cart, and Aylwin and
Lynette in Captain Rogers's chair—there was just room for both of
them—and we told Puff that he must wait at the winning-post. Then he
began to roar and cry, and said he got the donkey and he was going to
ride.
Denys said he would make us much heavier than the others, so that we
couldn't go so fast, but Puff wouldn't listen, he just roared on. So
then I said I would let him go with Denys instead of me, because it did
seem rather hard that he shouldn't. Denys was awfully pleased, because
he said he would be much lighter weight than I was. Mrs. Rogers asked
me if I didn't mind, and I said No, not much, for I should be able to
stand at the winning-post and see them come in.
"I don't mind enough to roar and cry because I'm not in it," I said, as
I wiped Puff's tears away with my handkerchief.
He was beaming all over, and got into the cart and sat up like a little
king.
Beatrice told me she thought our cart was simply lovely.
"I wish Clarice and I could think of the things you do," she said, with
a little sigh. "We feel so dull when we're not with you."
I looked at their pretty little jingle with its blue cushions, and
their silver harness, and their sweet pony, and shook my head. "Ah, but
we have to hide up our ugliness," I said. "You haven't."
And then she quite cheered up, and said she supposed that was it.
Well, Captain Rogers had marked out the course—at least he had made a
farm boy do it with a heap of stones here and there. And then they all
got into line, and Captain Rogers had a real pistol which he let off.
It was awfully exciting. They were to go twice round the field, and as
I was watching, I really thought it was much more fun being out of it
than in it.
First I thought Beatrice and Clarice were going to win—they were well
ahead. Then Denys gradually caught them up, and when Andy actually
passed them, I yelled with delight. Then to my astonishment, in the
second round the bath-chair, which had been a long way behind, now
got faster and faster, and at last passed Denys, but he slashed and
shouted at Andy so hard that he bucked up and tore along and got first
again, and I thought he was going to win, when just before he came up
to the winning-post, he stopped dead short and nothing would make him
move. Denys shouted and whipped, but he only shook his ears and stood
perfectly still. It was quite too bad. I nearly cried.
Then up came Aylwin and Lynette, and then Clarice's pony put on a spurt
and came in exactly at the same time as they did; the boys called it
neck-to-neck. They both won the race, and directly Andy heard us cheer
them, he started off and dashed in after them, but of course he was
just too late. We were all perfectly disgusted with him except Aylwin
and Lynette, and they were delighted to have won. They seemed to
forget that it was our donkey who had lost, and all from sheer wicked
obstinacy.
Mrs. Rogers did not know who to give the laurel crown to, so Captain
Rogers said the bath-chair and the jingle must have another try, and he
set them only a short distance to run. The bath-chair won easily. And
Lynette got the laurel crown. She was enchanted with it, and wouldn't
take it off. She wore it instead of her hat, and said it was much
cooler.
Then after we had all talked a lot about the race, we went down to the
river, and Captain Rogers was wheeled along in his chair. We had the
most lovely tea, because we boiled the kettle ourselves, and made a
fire; it was almost as good as being gipsies.
And then we played games afterwards; and though Beatrice couldn't
run about, because of her foot, we managed to have great fun with
sitting-still games. We were quite sorry to have to go home, but we
all drove in our cart by the side of Beatrice and Clarice, and they
said they thought Andy looked quite as handsome as Queenie, their pony,
did. They were rather disappointed that they hadn't won, but of course
we couldn't all win, and somebody had to be disappointed. Denys was
disappointed too. And I was. For the aggravating part was that Andy
only lost the race on account of his bad temper. Captain Rogers said it
was just because of his donkey's nature.