CHAPTER I

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[Illustration: "How can I ever go!" cries Betty

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BETTY'S BATTLES

_AN EVERYDAY STORY_

BY S. L. M.

_Author of "Jabez the Unlucky"_

PREFACE BY MRS. BRAMWELL BOOTH

[Illustration]

_Illustrated by Gertrude M. Bradley_

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PREFACE

I have derived real pleasure from the reading of "Betty's Battles,"

because I am sure if we can only get it into the hands of other

"Bettys," that they will be inspired and helped to take up arms in their

own cause, and fight, as Betty did, for the love and peace and

orderliness of their own dear homes.

I think a fact is revealed in this story which is not actually

transcribed in black and white. It is that the Grandmother--through

staying with whom Betty had been so much blessed and helped--bore the

same surname as Betty's father. For if she had brought up Betty's

mother, I am quite sure there never could have been so much difficulty

in the home as was the case when Betty returned from her holiday!

This little book will, I believe, help our Young People to realise their

responsibility towards their own homes and their fathers and mothers.

Nothing is more grievous at the present time in many countries where

civilisation is most advanced, than the decay of all that which is

precious and beautiful in home life. There are many causes which have

contributed to this, to which I cannot allude here; but there is one

remedy which by the blessing of God cannot fail. It is that our young

women should be enlightened and trained to acknowledge and to carry

their responsibilities for that work which God has committed to women.

Undoubtedly, it is God's arrangement that women should beautify and

adorn the home. A home is an absolute necessity to her; and only by the

retirement and protection of a good home, can women ever be fitted to

train and mould the nation's youth. As a wise, far-seeing writer has

said: "It is not too much to say that the prosperity or adversity of a

nation rests in the hands of its women. They are the mothers of the men;

they make and mould the characters of their sons, and the centre of

their influence should be, as Nature intended it to be, the home. Home

is the pivot round which the wheel of a country's highest statesmanship

should revolve; the preservation of home, its interests, its duties and

principles, should be the aim of every good citizen.... A happy home is

the best and surest safeguard against all evil; and where home is not

happy, there the Devil may freely enter and find his hands full. With

women, and women only, this happiness in the home must find its

foundation."

I believe in the successful mission of this little book, and wish it

good speed.

Florence E. Booth

_November 1907_

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. "GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE" 1

II. HOME AGAIN 7

III. THE BATTLES BEGIN 19

IV. BETTY'S BIRTHDAY 31

V. REAL TROUBLE 48

VI. FOR FATHER'S SAKE 59

VII. DAY BY DAY 71

VIII. THE CAPTAIN 83

IX. A PLACE FOR EVERY ONE 95

X. A QUARREL 107

XI. FATHER AT HOME 123

XII. LUCY 129

XIII. COMRADES 140

XIV. BETTY'S BIRTHDAY ONCE MORE 147

BETTY'S BATTLES

CHAPTER I

"GOOD-BYE, GRANNIE"

"Oh, Grannie, how sweet it all is here! How can I ever go!" cries Betty.

Betty's bag stands by the gate. Betty herself roams restlessly about the

little garden, while Betty's Grannie shades her gentle old eyes from the

morning sunshine, and peers down the road.

Betty's bag is stout and bulgy; stuffed full of Grannie's home-made

goodies, including a big plum-cake, and pots of delicious jam.

Betty herself is not stout at all; indeed, she is rather thin. She came

to Grannie's country home, five weeks ago, to grow strong again after a

bad illness; but though the moorland breezes have brought colour back to

her cheeks, and strength to her long limbs, they have given no plumpness

to either.

Betty's Grannie--well, she _is_ Grannie, a true Army Grannie, with a

heart large enough to take in everybody's troubles, and a spirit wise

enough to find a cure for most of them.

"The carrier's cart is a little later than usual," remarks Grannie,

still peering down the road; "but don't worry, you've plenty of time to

do the ten miles to the station; and Bob the carrier will see you safe

into the express. Of course, your father will meet you when the train

arrives, so you've nothing to trouble about, dear."

"Nothing to trouble about!" Betty turns round quickly. "Oh, Grannie,

it's leaving _you_ that troubles me so dreadfully--how can I go--how

_can_ I, when I'm only just beginning to understand?"

During these five weeks Betty has grown to love her dear good Grannie as

she never loved anyone before, for, week by week, day by day, Grannie

has been bringing her nearer and nearer to God.

"Last night, dear child, you gave your heart into the Lord's keeping,"

says Grannie softly, laying a loving hand on the girl's shoulder, "and

He is with those who trust Him always, wherever they may go."

"Yes, I know, Grannie; and while I'm with you it seems so easy to do

right--and though you are so wise and good, you never get cross with me

when I make mistakes, or answer too sharply--but, Oh, it is so

different--so very different at home! Whatever shall I do without you?"

And Betty flings her arms round the old woman's neck, and clings to her

as though she would never let her go.

"Your home is God's gift to you, Betty," says Grannie, gravely.

"My home? Grannie, it's _horrid_ at home sometimes! The rooms are so

stuffy, and dark, and untidy, and I hate untidy rooms! The children are

always quarrelling, and they shout and stamp until my head aches and

aches, and mother never seems to care. If only it were pretty and clean

and fresh like this place--if only mother were like you!"

But Grannie's face grows graver still.

"Hush, hush, Betty! Indeed, you must not allow yourself to run on in

this way. Remember, you have given yourself to God now, and you must do

the work He puts into your hands bravely and well.

"Of course, it is easier to be cheerful and good when there is nothing

to try us. Of course, it is easier to carry a light burden than a heavy

one. Your father is poor, and there are many little ones. Your mother

has struggled through long years of weary work and anxiety. It is your

part to be their help and comfort, Betty."

"I will try, indeed, I will; and I'll try to remember all you've told

me, all the dear beautiful talks we've had together, and--and last

night, Gran."

"That's my own darling!"

"Yes, I'm really going to be good now, and patient, and unselfish, and

I'll help mother, and teach the children, and make our home as sweet as

your home is. But, Oh, dear Grannie, if you could only see our home--it

makes me so cross, for nobody even tries to help, and they are all so

careless, and snap one up so."

Betty stops short, there is a queer little twinkle in Grannie's eye that

is almost like a question.

"Oh, yes, I know. _I_ am snappy sometimes; but they are all so unjust.

When I try to put things straight a bit, Bob is sure to say I've lost

some of his books; and, Grannie, it isn't 'interfering' is it to tell

people of a thing when you know it's wrong?"

"It may be 'interfering' even to put things straight, dear, unless you

are very careful to let love do the seeing, and speaking, and doing.

"Courage, Betty! You were very weak and listless when you came five

weeks ago; and your heart was heavy and sad. Now you are my own strong

Betty again. And the Lord has come to dwell in your heart and take its

sadness away.

"Let Him reign in your heart, Betty; give Him the whole of it. In His

strength you will learn to check the 'snappy' words when they rise to

your lips; to conquer the discontented thoughts and careless habits. You

will learn to be happy and bright, and to make all those around you

happy too."

But Betty thinks, "Clearly Grannie doesn't know how horrid things are at

home sometimes; if mother would only let me manage altogether it

wouldn't be half so difficult."

"The carrier's cart, my child!"

Betty lifts her head from Grannie's shoulder and hastily wipes her eyes.

The cart stops; the bulgy bag, the paper parcel, and big bunch of

sweet-smelling, old-fashioned flowers are lifted in. Betty turns to

Grannie for the final kiss.

"Remember, dear, the little crosses of daily life, borne bravely and

cheerfully for Jesus' sake, will make you a true Soldier, and win a

crown of glory by and by," whispers Grannie, as she presses her

grandchild in her kind arms.

Betty nods, and then turns her head away very quickly; she dare not

trust herself to speak.

The cart moves away. Yes, now, indeed, her holiday is over!

The blue sky, the golden gorse, the fresh, sweet air of the moors, they

are still around her, but they belong to her no more.

Through a mist of tears she looks back at the little cottage where she

has been so happy; Grannie still stands by the gate--round that turn in

the road beyond is the village, and the little Salvation Army Hall,

where Grannie goes every Sunday.

It was at the close of the Meeting last night that she gave her heart to

God. Then afterwards, in her dear little bedroom, with her head buried

in Grannie's lap, she felt so strong, so sure--and now?

"Oh, dear; Oh, dear," she sobs, "it is all so different at home!"

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