TAKING A CITY.
Geoffrey remembered Mr. Hodson's words later in the evening.
He did not turn in at the garden gate with Forbes, but telling him he
had some business to do before going in to tea, he gave his presents
into his brother's keeping, and ran down the hill on the summit of
which their house stood.
At the bottom of the hill, he came upon a tumbled-down cottage,
standing quite by itself. Old Rachel, of whom Mrs. Green had told them,
lived here.
The thought of Rachel had lain very heavily on Geoffrey's heart the
last two or three days. He could not forget that she was a mother, and
a mother neglected by her only child, who, when she gave her anything
at all, only passed on to her what she couldn't eat herself. He was
thinking of Rachel when the apple puffs were passed round at dinner.
Now apple puffs was a favourite dish of Geoffrey's, as I fancy it is
of most boys. They looked particularly tempting to-day, and he ate the
first with a relish. It was just as he was taking his second, that
Mrs. Green's words came across his mind, "and if ever she gives her
anything, you may be quite sure it ain't fit to eat, something they
can't eat themselves because it's turned."
Geoffrey looked at the puff as it lay so invitingly on his plate. It
was three cornered, and a little burnt at the edges, which made it all
the nicer in Geoffrey's opinion, and a nice layer of white sugar lay on
the top.
How good it looked! For a moment the boy gazed at it undecidedly, then,
when no one was looking, he put it into his jacket pocket, and resolved
to take it round to old Rachel when they came back from Ipswich.
"For once," thought Geoff, "she shall have something that somebody else
wants."
He had had some difficulty in knowing how to stow away his many
presents so as not to crush his apple puff, but he had managed somehow,
and now as he stood outside the door of Rachel's cottage, he took the
puff out and was glad to find it still whole. It certainly looked very
tempting, and Geoffrey was hungry after his walk. No one would see if
after all he ate it, instead of giving it to old Rachel, and no one
would consciously miss it.
For a moment the boy's resolution wavered, then he knocked at the door.
Now an apple puff was not a very great thing to give up for the sake of
another, and perhaps some of my little readers may think that it would
not have signified very much if Geoffrey had eaten it after all. But
we must remember, that life is made up of little things, and the great
battle of life, on which so much depends, consists often of little
victories and little losses, and this small victory that Geoffrey
gained that afternoon helped him in after years to gain a far greater
one.
When he grew up to be a man, there was something he wanted very much,
which was far more worth having than this apple puff. He wanted it so
much that he sometimes felt he would almost give his life to possess it
for ever such a short time; but somebody else wanted it too, someone
who was weaker than he was, and who perhaps needed it more than he did,
and Geoffrey gave it right up for the sake of that other.
I do not think he would have acted so nobly when he was a man, if he
had not begun quite early in life to deny himself. If he had lost this
little battle and had eaten the apple puff outside old Rachel's door,
in all probability he would have lost that greater battle in after life.
[Illustration: "You are old Rachel, aren't you?" asked Geoffrey.
"Well, what if I be?" she answered.]
"Come in," said a quavering voice as Geoffrey knocked, and on entering,
he saw a haggard looking old woman, with a forbidding expression of
face, and grey straggling hair, crouching over a small fire.
"You are old Rachel, aren't you?" asked Geoffrey, who had never seen
her before.
"Well, what if I be?" she answered in a low gruff voice, "I don't want
no one to come interfering with me, leastways a child. What do you
want—eh?"
"I've brought you an apple puff," said Geoffrey, standing still by the
door.
"Shut the door, can't ye," said Rachel shivering, "the draught's enough
to cut one in two. An apple puff is it? That ain't the kind of food I
want, I ought to be fed on arrowroot I tell ye, and sweet puddings and
the like. But Jane never sends me what I need, it's either somethin'
that's turned bad, or else what I can't eat."
"This is quite new and fresh," said Geoffrey, shutting the door and
coming a little nearer, while he laid the puff on the table, "perhaps
you've never tasted a puff—it's awfully good—I wish you'd try it."
"That's a likely story, if Jane sent it," said Rachel glancing at it,
and then looking up suspiciously at Geoffrey.
"No one sent it," interposed Geoffrey. "We had them for dinner to-day,
and I thought you'd like one as they were so good. I'm Geoffrey
Fortescue, and I heard of you from Mrs. Green."
Rachel looked back again at the fire, muttering to herself, and
Geoffrey looked round the room, and thought how bare it was, and how
lonely Rachel looked.
"Haven't you any money to get things with?" he asked.
"Money ain't for such as me: the big folk that don't need it, they have
the money. This world's comforts ain't for me."
"There's Heaven for you," said Geoffrey.
Rachel darted a quick look at the boy, and as she saw the earnest
young face looking at her so pitifully, the expression on her own face
softened, and she shook her head.
"I take it Heaven is a long way off," she said sadly.
"It doesn't seem so very far," answered Geoff, "Mother is there, and I
sometimes feel she's quite close."
"Heaven ain't meant for such as me," muttered Rachel, cowering closer
to the fire.
"I thought God loved everybody, and meant Heaven for the whole world,"
said Geoff, "and," he added earnestly, "I'm quite sure God must want
you there, because you are so lonely."
Rachel wiped away a tear or two with her apron. She had not cried for
many a long day. She had harboured too bitter thoughts to allow of
tears, but to-day, something in the boy's simple words touched her hard
old heart.
"I mustn't stop," said Geoffrey, looking out of the window at the
darkness, "or Nurse won't like it. But I'll ask Mr. Hodson to come
and see you, and I'll leave the apple puff, for it's ever so good, if
you'll only try it."
Rachel nodded her assent to the last sentence, but added:
"But don't you bring no parsons to see me. I don't want no parsons
here, unless," she added with a sob, and beginning to rock herself
backwards and forwards, "unless he can tell me the way straight and
plain to Heaven. I'd like to know that."
Closing the door softly after him, Geoffrey ran as fast as he could to
Mr. Hodson. Although he ran the risk of a scolding from Nurse for being
late, he felt that Rachel must not be left in her misery.
He arrived at the house nearly breathless, and told his friend what had
happened.
Mr. Hodson, who had together with the Vicar for many a year tried in
vain to overcome Rachel's objection to see a clergyman, was glad enough
of the news Geoffrey brought him, and prepared at once to go and see
her.
"Mr. Hodson," said Geoffrey anxiously, "God loves her, doesn't He? And
He won't turn her away from Heaven, if she asks to be let in."
"If Rachel really wants to find God, He certainly will not turn her
away," answered Mr. Hodson. "The Lord Jesus Christ has made a way there
for us all, and old Rachel's way is the same as yours and mine. Do you
remember the story Geoff," he added, as he put On his coat to start off
at once, "of the man who saved his children by making a bridge of his
own body from the window of his burning house to that of the opposite
one? The houses were very near together, and he could reach from one
window to another."
"His children one by one crossed over his body into safety, and just as
the last child was saved, the house fell in, and the man was killed.
When the Blessed Lord Jesus died on the Cross, He made a bridge for
Rachel, and for you and for me to Heaven. You see, I have good news for
your old friend, Geoff my boy, so you run home as fast as you can or
you'll get a scolding."
And Geoff did get a scolding. Nurse met him at the door.
"Master Geoff," she cried, "I'm downright ashamed of you for setting
the children such an example. There I've been worrying after you for
the last twenty minutes, and thought you'd come to some accident or
other. I'm downright ashamed of you."
"I had some business to do," said Geoffrey, trying to pass her. But
Nurse placed her portly figure in his way.
"Business! A chit like you talking of business! What'll you come
to next, I wonder. You're a naughty boy and ought to be ashamed of
yourself. What business have you had to do, I should like to know,
except to be a good obedient boy. That's the business you ought to be
doing I take it."
Geoffrey flushed angrily. His mother never scolded him in this way, and
he had often run messages for her as late as this by himself.
"Let me pass, Nurse," he said angrily, trying to push past her, "I've
not been doing anything wrong."
"Nothing wrong!" exclaimed Nurse, catching hold of his arm. "Nothing
wrong to make me that anxious about you that I didn't know what to
do—nothing wrong that you've kept us all waiting for tea, and have set
a bad example to all the children. I'm ashamed of you Master Geoff. Now
I should like to know what you've been about, and I mean to know too."
[Illustration: But at the sight of the bread and water, he lost his
temper completely, and taking up the glass, he threw it on to the
ground.]
Now Geoff did not wish to tell Nurse about the apple puff, and felt
exceedingly angry at being treated like a little boy, and held by the
arm in this way. So raising his hand he struck nurse's arm as hard as
he could, and then pale with anger, he rushed into his bedroom and
locked the door.
"Well I never!" ejaculated nurse. "If that isn't a wicked temper, I
don't know what is."
When she went back into the nursery a few minutes afterwards, she
informed the children that Geoff had been a naughty boy, and was to
have no tea that evening, but that Forbes might put a glass of water
and some bread outside his door, but was not to speak a word to him.
Forbes, in utter astonishment at his elder brother being punished in
this way, obeyed wonderingly.
Now it was a great pity that Geoffrey had not at once explained to
nurse the cause of his absence. She might have given him a slight
scolding, for not asking her leave before going, but her kind heart
would have sympathized with him, in his wish to do a kindness.
But Geoffrey's pride had stood in the way. He could not endure being
treated like a little boy, and scolded like a naughty child, and as
he paced up and down his room, his indignation rose, and reached its
climax when he heard Forbes' footstep outside, and the sound of him
quietly laying down his tea, as he supposed, by his door without a
word. Was he to be treated then like a mere baby? And to be held in
disgrace like Jack or Dodie would have been, if they had been naughty?
He opened his door impatiently to call after Forbes to take away his
tea, but at the sight of the bread and water, he lost his temper
completely, and taking up the glass, he threw it on to the ground,
smashing it to pieces. Then locked his door again, and would not open
it, though nurse shook it violently.
Then it was that Mr. Hodson's words about Alexander came into his mind,
and Geoffrey stood quite still in his walk.
"'He that ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city,'"
thought Geoff.
Half an hour afterwards, to Forbes' intense astonishment, Geoffrey
appeared in the nursery and apologized to nurse.
Nurse said nothing, but going to the cupboard, she mixed some gregory
powder in a wineglass, saying, "anyone who shows temper like that, I
take it, must be ill. There my dear," she added kindly, "you drink
that, there's a good boy—and you'll feel better to-morrow."
And Geoff drank it to the dregs, and in so doing was greater than
Alexander the Great.
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