Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: SEVERAL BIG BOYS HAD POUNCED UPON THE APPLES
AND MADE OFF WITH THEM.]
WHILST FATHER WAS FIGHTING
BY
ELEANORA H. STOOKE
AUTHOR OF "LITTLE MAID MARIGOLD"
LONDON
THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
MANCHESTER, MADRID, LISBON, BUDAPEST.
MADE IN GREAT BRITAIN
PRINTED BY THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, LONDON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. AFRAID IN THE DARK
II. THE NEW LODGER
III. BOB AND STRAY MAKE AN ENEMY
IV. ABOUT THE RUBY BROOCH
V. THE EARL'S DAUGHTER
VI. POOR STRAY!
VII. BOB LAID UP
VIII. GREAT NEWS
IX. CONCERNING TOM SMITH
X. STRAY TO THE RESCUE
XI. MISS PEGGY'S DAUGHTER
XII. CONCLUSION
WHILST FATHER WAS FIGHTING
CHAPTER I
AFRAID IN THE DARK
"Are you asleep, Jackie?"
Bob Middleton, closed the door of the attic which served as a bedroom
for himself and his little five-year-old brother as he spoke, and
stepped softly to the bedside.
No, Jackie was not asleep. He had sprung up in bed at the sound of
Bob's voice, and now cried chokingly—
"Oh, Bobbie, Bobbie!"
"Why, what is the matter, old chap?" Bob, inquired. The question was
needless, for he knew his little brother was crying from fear—fear of
being alone in the dark. "I hoped I should find you asleep," he went
on without waiting for a reply; "it was an hour ago that Aunt Martha
put you to bed, and you promised you'd try to go to sleep right
away."
"I did try," was the plaintive answer, followed by the anxious
inquiry—"Are you coming to bed now?"
"No," said Bob, "I've only come up for a few minutes. Aunt Martha
said I mustn't stay long, for she's several errands for me to do
yet." He went to the window—it was low in the sloping roof—and pulled
up the blind. "There, now!" he cried, "isn't that better? The moon's
like a big lamp in the sky, and the stare are shining ever so
brightly."
"I can see them," Jackie said, with a sobbing breath. "I wanted Aunt
Martha to pull up the blind, but she wouldn't, and—and she said if I
got out of bed she'd give me the stick. I hope she won't whip me
again, Bobbie; she does whip so hard."
Bob set his teeth and was silent for a minute. Mrs. Mead, their Aunt
Martha, was not always kind to Jackie. She was not always kind to him
either, but that he felt did not matter. He and his little brother—
Jackie was five years younger—had been living with Mrs. Mead for ten
months, ever since the beginning of the war with Germany, when their
father, a reservist, had rejoined the colours. Their previous home
had been in a village some miles from Bristol, where their father had
been employed on a farm.
Their mother had died when Jackie had been born, so there had been
no one but Aunt Martha to take charge of them when the call to arms
had taken their father from them. Mrs. Mead, who was a childless
widow, kept a greengrocer's shop in a dingy street in Bristol; and,
as she took lodgers, she had no room to spare her little nephews but
an attic. From the boys' attic, which was at the back of the house,
was a view of the river and the backs of the houses on the opposite
bank—not a very cheering view for eyes accustomed to pretty wooded
scenery.
"Well," Bob said, "I must be going. Don't cry any more, Jackie.
There's nothing to be afraid of up here, and it's quite light now
I've drawn up the blind. You can lie and watch the moon and stars.
I daresay father's watching them too, out in the trenches—"
"Oh, I want father!" Jackie broke in, "I want father!"
Bob wanted his father quite as much as his little brother did; but he
owned a brave heart, and, though it was very heavy, he answered
cheerfully—
"I daresay he'll be home on leave soon. Here, let me cover you up!"
He tucked the bedclothes around Jackie, then hurried out of the room,
leaving the door ajar. As he ran down the steep, narrow stairs he met
a little old woman toiling up, followed by an ugly brown dog.
He guessed who she was. There were two attics in the house, and the
previous day he had heard his aunt remark that she had let the front
attic to an old-age pensioner—a Mrs. Winter. No doubt this little old
woman was Mrs. Winter.
"There's a dog following you!" he called out, stopping and looking
after her.
"Yes," she said, glancing back at him with a smile, "he's my dog.
Stray he's called. Oh, dear me, who's that crying?"
"My little brother," Bob replied; "he doesn't like being left alone—
he's afraid."
He hurried on. Mrs. Winter, having reached the top stair, hesitated a
minute, then, instead of going into her own attic, walked into the
other, Stray at her heels.
Jackie was sitting up in bed, crying loudly. He became suddenly
silent when he saw Mrs. Winter.
"Good evening!" she began. "I'm Mrs. Winter. I've come to live in the
front attic, and should like to be friends with you and your brother.
Now, suppose you tell me your name?"
"Jackie," the little boy answered; "I'm five," he informed her, "and
Bob's ten."
Mrs. Winter took a chair by his side. He could see her face plainly
in the moonlight. Such a pleasant face it was, although it was old,
with bright brown eyes like a bird's and the happiest expression.
"I met your brother on the stairs," Mrs. Winter remarked, "he told me
you were afraid because you were left alone. But we're never really
alone you know, my dear. Jesus is always with us. Do you know about
Jesus, Jackie?"
"Oh, yes," said Jackie; "I go to Sunday school. Jesus is in Heaven."
Mrs. Winter nodded. "Yes, Jesus is in Heaven," she agreed, "and He's
here too. He's everywhere. No—" as Jackie glanced around the room—
"we can't see Him; nevertheless He's here, and you can speak to Him
whenever you like and be quite sure He'll hear you. Don't you know
that when you pray you are talking to Jesus? He loves you, and wants
you to love Him. Oh, He is such a good friend to have, Jackie!
I wonder, now, if you said your prayers to-night?"
"No," the little boy answered; "I forgot."
"Ah! I'm not surprised you felt lonely and frightened. I tell you
what, we'll pray together—just you and me. You can kneel upon the
bed, and I'll kneel beside it."
They did so, whilst Mrs. Winter offered up a prayer. It was a very
simple prayer, which asked Jesus to watch over Jackie and make him
feel His presence so that he might not be afraid, and the little boy
quite understood it.
"I like her," he said to himself, after Mrs. Winter had bidden him
"good-night" and gone away, accompanied by her dog; "she's a very
nice old woman. It was kind of her to come to see me. Oh, I do hope
she'll come again!"