IN THE STORM.
It was just such another day as when the Sunday School children had
played about in the meadows six weeks before. The rays of the sun
were very hot, though a gentle breeze stirred the branches of the
trees around. Far in the distance was a dark line of cloud, but it
was so far away that one did not notice it.
Little Kit was looking rather pale; and when Ben ran in from school
the mother said--
"You might take Kit for a ride in the perambulator, Ben. Be back in
time for tea." She could trust him perfectly with Kit now, as he had
proved himself very careful, and after tucking the little girl
comfortably into the "coach," she put pieces of bread and jam into
their hands, and they started off towards the country.
Ben was very anxious to show Kit a bird's nest he had discovered in a
bush on the outskirts of a wood some distance away, but there would
be plenty of time to reach the place and get back for tea, if they
were quick. So he ran along the shady side of the road, pushing Kit
merrily.
"The nest is empty now, Kit, but you'll like to see where the young
birds were hatched. It was such a cosy warm place."
"Something like my little crib, Ben."
"Very much like that, Kit, and you look like a little bird yourself
at night, with your head peeping out and your eyes shining bright
like beads."
Kit laughed, "I wonder if angels watch over little birds at night?"
"Well--father said not one of them falls to the ground without God
knowing it, so may be they are watched over. Folks say that little
'birds' praise Him by their singing; anyhow it sounds as if they
chirped something solemn at night when the sun has gone down. I've
heard them in that wood over there."
"It's nice to think of little birds thanking Him, isn't it?" said Kit.
"Yes; and we ought never to forget to thank Him also, for we've got
far more nice things than they."
As they passed along the hedgerow and neared the wood, Jim Snow
sprang out upon them with a howl which caused Kit to scream with
terror, whereupon he set up his mocking laugh.
"I saw the young lady and her coachman coming along, and I thought
I'd make her jump," he cried; "ha! ha!"
"How _could_ you be so cruel, Jim? see how frightened she is," said
Ben, indignantly. "Big boys like you ought not to frighten little
girls. Never mind, Kit; he will not do it again."
"Don't you be too sure," cried Jim, as he disappeared behind the
bushes.
It would have been wiser if Ben had turned homewards after this
little affair, but he was so anxious to show Kit the bird's nest. He
watched till Jim ran off to the little stream where he had found the
nestling for Kit a short time before, and then wheeled her onwards.
At the stream, Jim joined Eliza (his sister next in age to himself),
who was in charge of a little girl about a year old. He spoke to her
as if ordering her home, and then stopped to watch her proceedings
for a few minutes. She had taken the shoes and socks off the baby
and was going to teach it to walk in the water.
Poor little thing, it was grasped roughly round the waist, while its
tiny feet were jumped up and down on the stones in the stream.
"I shan't go home till I've given Jane a bathe, shall I, darling?"
Jane screamed, and Eliza shook her.
"I'm not going to stand any of that, so stop at once," she said, and,
whilst trying to get a firmer hold of the child, it fell sideways
into the stream.
Of course, Jane screamed louder, and Eliza took her or tugged her up
the bank as best she could; all her little garments dripping with
water.
"Won't you catch it," cried Jim, with a whistle.
"Don't tell, Jim, and I'll wring out her things, and they'll dry
before I get home."
"Won't I though; you told about me the other day, didn't you? But I
must be off, wishing you good luck," and he ran away in the direction
Ben and Kit had gone, leaving Jane to her fate.
Eliza did her utmost to dry the clothes, and all the way home was
planning the best method of getting over her scrape, if her mother
should find it out.
On went Ben with his little charge, quite unaware that they were both
followed by Jim, who was very curious to know their proceedings. A
short distance up the road, on the side of a hill, Ben came to a
gate, which was attached to a post by a chain slipped over it; he
raised this, and pushed the perambulator into the meadow, and,
lifting Kit out, told her to take his hand, while he pushed the
"coach" up the rising ground, past some straggling bushes.
"Now, we'll leave it here for a few minutes, Kit, while we scramble
through this little hole in the fence into the wood, and you'll hear
the birds sing, if you be quiet, and I'll show you the little nest
Will Grant showed me. We mustn't stay many minutes, because I
promised to be back before father comes home to tea. I'll take the
shawl on my arm, in case you would like to sit on it."
They scrambled through the little hole, and Ben searched about for
the bush. It was not so easy to find as he imagined, and it took him
nearly a quarter of an hour before he hit on the right spot.
Kit did not mind the delay, for she was busy filling her hands with
all sorts of weeds and leaves and flowers, to take home to her
mother. At last the nest was found, which Will Grant had left hoping
the bird might lay more eggs in it, and Ben lifted Kit to see it and
feel it.
"What's that?" cried Ben.
They listened.
"Sounds like funder," said Kit.
A low distant roar was heard, which suddenly seemed to break over
their heads. At the same moment a shrill whistle sounded near them,
and a tall man broke through the bushes.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Be off, sharp now. You are
disturbing the beasts, and you're 'trespassing.'"
Ben started, and Kit clung to him.
"What beasts, please Sir? Are there any wild beasts about?" and Ben
glanced round with a scared look.
"No, no, rabbits and hares, and such like, which we want kept quiet.
Another thing is, traps have been set all over the wood, and if you
got your legs caught in them, it would be awkward."
"It would never do for this little girl to get caught. Would you
please tell us where they are, Sir?"
"Oh, all about; never come here any more. It takes all my time
keeping the public off."
"We have nothing to do with 'publics.' Father and mother wouldn't
allow us to go inside one, please Sir," said Ben secretly rather
afraid of the tall man, and wishing to be civil.
"No, no; I was making no reference to the public houses," answered
he, with a laugh. "I daresay you are decent little folks, but you
ought not to be here. What did you come for?"
"I came to show this little girl a real bird's nest in a bush here,
but I won't come again. You see, she was brought up in Peters Street
and never saw one before."
"Hum! she's a pretty little thing, and you ought to take her home at
once, there's a tempest coming on. See!" A flash of lightning
lighted up the wood, showing up for an instant every leaf and branch;
then followed a peal of thunder.
"It isn't safe to stay here; what are you going to do?"
"The 'coach' is just outside the fence, I'll put Kit in and run home."
The man hesitated; he had a kindly face when off duty; and the little
pair touched a chord in his heart.
"If the storm is heavy, just stop at the little red brick cottage
along the road; my wife stays there; tell her I sent you; I have to
go a little further before I turn in."
He helped them through the bushes, saying, as he did so, "I can't
think how you'll get along; the storm is going to be heavy; but you
mustn't stay here."
"We were saying coming along that God takes care of sparrows, so He
is sure to look after us. We are not afraid. You might have been
awful cross with us for coming in this here wood, instead of that you
are helping us, you see. It must be Jesus taking care of us."
"I wish I never had to deal with worse characters than you," said
Michael Craig, for this was his name. "Go into the cottage as you
pass. Good-bye."
Again the children scrambled through the little hole in the fence,
and ran to the place they had left the perambulator; but to their
dismay, it was gone.