Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: SHE LAY QUITE MOTIONLESS.]
THE
HAPPINESS OF
HAZELBROOK
By the Author of
"Harry Blake's Trouble," etc.
[Charlotte O'Brien]
R.T.S., 4 Bouverie Street, London, E.C. 4
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. DUTY AND PLEASURE
II. THE HAPPINESS OF HAZELBROOK
III. GOING TO THE FAIR
IV. THE SHADOW OF DEATH
V. THE HAPPY ISLAND
VI. THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL
VII. SAFE AT HOME
THE HAPPINESS OF
HAZELBROOK
CHAPTER I
Duty and Pleasure
"NOW, Katie, you'll be able to finish that shirt easily by the time I
come home this evening," said Mrs. Lawrence, as she was preparing to
leave home one morning for a day's washing at the rectory.
"Oh yes, mother; I have only the two sleeves to make and put in, and
both wristbands are stitched already."
"That's right; then my mind will be at ease about the shirts. You know
I promised Mrs. Gordon to let her have them to-night, as she is leaving
Hazelbrook to-morrow morning. And if I thought you couldn't finish the
one you have in hand, I'd stay at home myself and see to it. But the
day's washing is an object to me, so if I can depend upon your sitting
steadily to work—"
"That you may, mother; I shan't stir till I have finished it."
"There's Ben's dinner all ready in the basin; you can just put it into
the oven for a short time before you send it. And Willie and Tom will
take it when they come home from school."
"All right, mother."
"And don't let little Esther get into any mischief. Keep her in with
you as much as you can, Katie; she plays very well by herself, and
it's much better for her than running about all the morning with the
children of the village. Besides, she will amuse Nelly if she stays
indoors."
As Mrs. Lawrence spoke, she stooped to kiss a pale, sickly-looking
little girl, about ten years old, who was lying upon a little bed near
the window.
"I will look after Esther, mother," said the child, in a feeble voice:
"I wish I could do some work to help you, that I do." And the tears
came into Nelly's eyes as she spoke.
"Don't fret about that, Nelly; some day, please God, you'll be able to
help me;—it's not the will that's wanting, anyhow, I know that quite
well. Meantime, you've got your own work to do, as our minister used
often to say to me; there's no one but has work to do in the world,
however rich he may be."
"Why, mother, what work can Nelly possibly have to do?" said Katie.
"Nelly has to pray to God to make her patient under the trial He
has sent her," replied her mother—"to keep from murmuring, or being
discontented."
"I shouldn't think that was very hard," interrupted Katie. She was
about to add that her sister had no needlework to do, but something
kept her silent.
"I should like to see 'you' try for a week, Katie," said her mother.
Katie blushed and said nothing.
"It is not so very easy, as you think, to lie patiently day after day,
and week after week; and it is only God's grace that can enable Nelly
to do so, Katie; but He never yet sent a burden so heavy that He did
not at the same time send strength enough to carry it; that is, if we
ask Him for it. But I must go now, so be good children, and mind you
keep to your work, Katie."
"Of course I will, mother," answered the young girl, rather pertly, as
if offended at being reminded so often.
And yet Katie's conscience must have told her that her mother had too
good cause for complaint. Katie Lawrence was nearly thirteen. She was
a sharp, clever girl, quick at her needle, and might have been of
the greatest use to her mother, had it not been for the sad habit of
neglecting her duty. Hers was truly but "eye-service." So long as her
mother worked beside her, Katie's needle moved rapidly and steadily.
But once let Mrs. Lawrence be called away by any business, and there
was an end to all Katie's industry. First she would begin to yawn, then
down would go her work, and she would be off into the garden to look
at the chickens, or feed the pig, or anything, in fact, but sit to her
needlework.
Mrs. Lawrence was most anxious to bring up her children to habits of
industry, and had a great objection to Katie wasting her time with
all the idle girls of the village, in whose company her mother felt
sure she would learn nothing that was good. She therefore forbade her
daughter going out without her consent. And Katie would promise, and,
at the moment, intend to obey her mother's wishes. But no sooner was
her mother's back turned, than her promised obedience was forgotten.
This was the more blameable in Katie, because she was quite old enough
to know what a hard struggle her mother had to make both ends meet.
There was not a prettier cottage in Hazelbrook than that of Widow
Lawrence, and it was as neat and clean as it was pretty. When
hard-working Ben Lawrence died of the typhus fever, three years before
this story begins, the villagers shook their heads, and said that poor
Mrs. Lawrence would never be able to get along with her six children,
and one of them a cripple too. And some even went so far as to advise
her to give up her home and go into the workhouse.
But the widow had a stout heart within her, and, in humble faith on
God's promise to befriend the fatherless and the widow, she aroused
herself, after the first heavy shock of her great grief, and determined
to put her shoulder to the wheel, and do what she could for her
fatherless children.
The eldest boy, Ben, was engaged as ploughboy at Farmer Hall's, and
earned three shillings a week. Mrs. Lawrence herself went every Tuesday
to the rectory to assist in the washing. This brought her in two
shillings. Added to this, the parish agreed to allow her half a crown
a week, which made a total of seven-and-sixpence. And as she was a
first-rate needlewoman, she hoped that what she and Katie could earn
by plain work, in addition to the above, would enable her, with strict
economy, to pay her way and keep out of debt.
It was often a hard struggle, but Mrs. Lawrence managed still to
keep her ground; and her cottage, although one of the poorest in the
village, was, as we said before, one of the neatest and prettiest. Her
husband had been very fond of gardening, and had taken great pains with
the little piece of ground. It was well stocked with fruit-trees, and
produced sufficient potatoes to last the family for the year.
Ben had been accustomed to assist his father, and was now able to take
the entire charge of the garden, which it was his pride and pleasure
to attend to of an evening, after he came home from work. He was the
eldest of the family, and was just fourteen years old. Poor little
Nelly had been a cripple from an infant. She had had a fall which
injured her spine, and for several years had not been able to put her
foot to the ground.
Some medical men expressed their opinion that the little girl would
become stronger as she grew older, and that she might yet be able to
earn her living by needlework, or some simple occupation. But up to
the present time, she had lain on her back, and could not move without
great pain. She required more nourishing food than her mother could
afford to give her, and it was one of Mrs. Lawrence's greatest trials
to feel she could not get Nelly all that she required.
She was a patient, even a cheerful child. God had mercifully, in her
case, 'tempered the wind to the shorn lamb,' and whilst giving her a
contented spirit, had also blessed her with a capacity for enjoying
any little happiness within her reach. A simple daisy-chain, a bunch
of buttercups, the first primrose, were like 'treasures of silver and
gold' to the poor lame girl.
Willie and Tom came next to Nelly. They were two merry little urchins
of six and eight years of age, and went regularly to school. Esther,
the "baby" of the family, was a rosy, laughing little girl of three,
always getting into mischief, but warm-hearted and affectionate.
Katie worked on steadily for some little time after her mother left
home that morning. Then she washed up the breakfast-things, and put
them away, and swept up the hearth. She had washed her hands, and was
about to sit down again to work, when the thought struck her that she
would just take one turn—just one—round the garden, that beautiful
spring morning. She should feel so fresh after it, and would be able to
work twice as fast when she came back.
So catching up little Esther in her arms, she ran with the child down
to the end of the garden. A clear running stream separated it from an
adjoining meadow, which was already quite yellow with cowslips.
"I must just gather a bunch for Nelly, she is so fond of them," thought
Katie, as she sprang across the little brook.
Once in the meadow, she and Esther were soon busy filling their
pinafores with sweet cowslips. The time slipped away unheeded.
"I will just make Nelly 'one' cowslip ball," thought Katie. And sitting
down on the root of an old tree under the hedge in the meadow, she took
out of her pocket the reel of cotton with which she had been working,
and began to make a cowslip ball.
This is a rather tedious thing to do—the first one she attempted she
spoiled, it was not a nice shape. Then she had not quite enough flowers
for the second, so she left Esther sitting on the old tree, whilst she
ran to gather some more. She was more successful in her next attempt,
but it had taken her a long time, and she had scarcely finished it,
when she heard the voices of her little brothers who had come home from
school, and were calling for her.
"Dear me, how late it must be!" cried Katie, as she hastened back
through the meadow.
When she reached the stream, Willie and Tom were both standing on the
opposite bank in the garden.
"Why, Katie, where have you been?" said they. "Nelly says we are to
take Ben his dinner, but it is not warmed yet, and it is time we went."
"Oh dear, dear, how tiresome!" said Katie. "I'm sure I never thought I
had been so long."
When she reached the cottage, it was nearly half-past twelve o'clock.
Poor Ben's dinner had to be sent, cold as it was, and then Katie had
to hurry and see about peeling the potatoes for their own meal. Little
Esther had wetted her feet sadly coming back in such a hurry across the
brook, so her socks and shoes had to be dried, and by the time that was
done, it was dinner-time.
Katie was cross with herself and with everybody. Nelly had thanked
her heartily for the cowslip ball, but had told her that she would
willingly have gone without the flowers, sooner than Katie should be
behindhand with the shirt she had promised her mother to get finished.
"I shall have plenty of time this afternoon, Nelly," said Katie,
pettishly; "so you need not trouble yourself about me."
By the time the dinner-things were cleared away, and her little
brothers sent off to school, it was past two o'clock. Katie sighed as
she washed her hands and again prepared to sit down to work.
"Everything seems to go wrong with me to-day," said she; "why, where
can my cotton be? I'm sure I had it in my pocket this morning."
"Katie had cotton in a field," lisped little Esther.
"Oh, what shall I do?" cried Katie, bursting into tears. "There's the
cotton lost now; it's all those tiresome cowslips. I'm sure I wish—"
Katie was quite wrong. It was not the cowslips that were in fault;
"all" the day's misfortunes—the wasted morning—Ben's cold dinner—the
lost cotton—all arose from the simple fact of Katie's yielding to the
first temptation to idleness. There was no harm whatever in her taking
a walk in the garden, or gathering cowslips at the proper time. Had she
sat steadily to her work in the morning, she would have finished it
early in the afternoon, and might have enjoyed herself in the meadow as
well. But, as her mother said to her, "duty first, pleasure afterwards."
Katie had a duty to perform; she had promised to do it, and she was now
suffering the penalty which all must pay, sooner or later, when they
leave "undone those things which they ought to have done."
"Leave Esther with me, Katie," said Nelly, "and go and look for the
cotton in the meadow; don't you recollect where you sat down?"
"Yes, I know the place exactly, but I am afraid I lost the cotton when
I ran so fast on hearing Willie calling to me. I know it was in my lap
the minute before."
Katie hastened into the field, and went first of all to the old tree
under the hedge. There was no cotton to be found. She then began to
search for it amongst the grass, but it was so thick and tall that
there was little chance of so small a thing as a reel of cotton being
recovered when once lost in it. At length, after nearly an hour's
ineffectual search, she returned to the cottage.
What should she do? The lost reel of cotton was the only one her mother
possessed. Mrs. Gordon had sent several reels of cotton with the
shirts, as she was most particular as to the cotton that was used; and
Katie had heard her mother say she hoped there would be sufficient to
finish the set, as she could not get any more like it in the village.
Katie hunted in her mother's work-bag, but there were only two balls of
very coarse common cotton, such as she could not possibly use for the
fine linen shirt.
"What shall I do? What shall I do?" she cried, as, sitting down on a
stool, she hid her face in her pinafore and sobbed bitterly.
"Perhaps Mrs. Graham, at the rectory, has some cotton like it, Katie
dear," said Nelly, "and I am sure she will give you some if you ask
her, she is so very kind."
"But what will mother say, Nelly?"
Her sister did not tell Katie she should have thought of that in the
morning, and it would have saved her much sorrow. But Katie's own
conscience told her as much, and even more. And when right-thinking
little Nelly suggested that the fear of what mother would say ought not
to keep Katie from doing all she could to make up for the evil, she
took her sister's advice, and prepared to go at once to the rectory,
and confess all to her mother.
It was already four o'clock when Katie set out on her journey. The
rectory was quite a mile distant, and as she walked along through the
quiet, peaceful meadows, she had ample time for reflection. She felt
vexed with herself, and formed many hasty resolutions for the future.
It is to be feared, however, that the thoughts of her mother's anger
affected her far more than any real sorrow for her disobedience.
Mrs. Lawrence was quite alarmed when she saw Katie, fearing that some
accident had befallen one of the younger children. And grieved as she
naturally felt at her daughter's conduct, it was a relief to her to
find that nothing more serious was the matter.
Katie told the whole truth to her mother, and did not attempt to spare
herself in any way. And Mrs. Lawrence went at once to Mrs. Graham, to
see if she could lend her some cotton. Mrs. Graham willingly gave her
a reel, and having heard of Katie's trouble, she sent for her into the
drawing-room, and spoke kindly to her on the necessity of making an
effort to conquer her present bad habits.
"You must pray to God, my dear child, to give you strength to resist
temptation; of your own self you can do nothing, and I fear you have
relied too much on your own strength, and have forgotten that text 'Let
him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.'"
"Indeed, ma'am, I did really mean to finish the shirt," said Katie,
with tears in her eyes.
"Very likely," said Mrs. Graham, "but that very fact should, in itself,
be a lesson to you for the future."
Katie thanked Mrs. Graham for her kindness, and promised to follow her
advice. She hastened home with the cotton, to do all she could to make
up for lost time. But, as an old writer says, "you may run all day
after a lost hour, but you will never be able to catch it."
It was but very little work she could do before her mother returned. Of
course the shirt was not finished, and Katie had the pain of seeing her
mother, fatigued as she was after her hard day's work, obliged to sit
up until very late, to make up for her daughter's idleness and neglect.
"Oh, mother, mother!" cried Katie, as Mrs. Lawrence, pale and weary,
passed through her daughter's room at a late hour, on her way to bed.
"Oh, mother, mother, I will never behave so again. I have prayed to God
to help me to do better for the future."
"God bless you, dear Katie," said her kind mother, "and give you
strength to keep your resolution."