In the Clover Field
'Please, Mrs. Platt, can I see Teddy?'
'I think he is out in the clover field. Don't you be romping round with
him now, for he's taken his Sunday book out, and is as quiet as can be.'
It was Nancy who was standing at the farmhouse door one lovely Sunday
evening. Old Mrs. Platt was the only one at home, and she motioned with
her hand where her little grandson would be found.
Nancy discovered him a few minutes later, lying full length in the
sweet-scented clover, an open book before him. When he raised his face to
hers, it wore his most angelic look.
'Hulloo! what have you come here for?' he asked.
'To talk to you,' and, without more ado, Nancy squatted down beside him.
'What are you doing?' she went on; 'and what's your Sunday book?'
'It's the _Pilgrim's Progress_. I love it; don't you? I haven't been
reading it though for a long time. I've been having a beautiful make-up.'
'Tell me,' and Nancy's tone was eager.
Teddy looked away to the purple hills in the distance, and beyond and
above them to the soft evening sky, with its delicate fleecy clouds
flitting by, and taking every imaginable form and shape as they did so.
The dreamy, far-away look came into his eyes as he said slowly,--
'It's a Sunday make-believe, quite one to myself, and I've never told it
to any one. I can only tell it to myself out of doors, when it's still
and quiet, and then I feel sometimes it's quite real!'
'Do tell me,' pleaded Nancy coaxingly.
'Well, it's getting to heaven--after I'm got there, you know.'
Nancy's eyes grew big with awe.
'Shall I tell you how I begin it?'
She nodded, and Teddy, turning over on his side, brought forth another
book--a New Testament.
Turning to an open page he began to read with great emphasis,--
'"And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and
showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven
from God."'
'That's the Bible,' said Nancy.
'Yes; now listen. I'm lying here in this field; it's very, very still. I
hear a little rustle behind. I don't look round, and then, flash! comes a
beautiful white angel. Now he's standing in front of me.'
'What's he like?'
'He's dressed in white shiny stuff, and he has very white feathery
wings. His face is smiling. He has eyes like mother's, and hair like
Sally White's.'
'Flaxen, mother says it is,' put in Nancy.
'Yes; he stands quite still. Hush! hear him!--"Teddy, I've come to fetch
you to heaven." And then I stand up. I listen hard, but I don't say
anything. He says, "You haven't been altogether a good soldier, but the
Captain says He wants you. Come along." Then I get up and sit myself
between his wings, and put my arms round his neck, and he begins to go
up. I see mother, and granny, and Uncle Jake, and I wave my hand to
them, and mother throws a kiss at me and calls out, "Give my love to
father," and away we go, over our fields and across the high road, and
over Farmer Green's fields, and then we fly right to the top of that
mountain over there!'
'Do let me come, too!' said Nancy. 'I want to be on the angel's back
with you.'
'P'raps you can follow behind on another angel; I want mine all to
myself. We get up to the top of the mountain, then I stand down on
the ground.'
'And me, too!' put in Nancy.
'You mustn't keep stopping me; I can't feel it if you do. I stand
there, and I think at first I can't see nothing but a lot of little soft
clouds, one above the other, just like those over there; but the angel
says, "Put your foot on one of them, and then on the next one--they're
the steps to heaven!"'
'Oh!' gasped Nancy, following it with keen reality; 'you'll tumble!'
'I don't; it's like putting your foot in cotton wool. I go up--I have to
go quite by myself, but the angel comes behind, to see I don't fall. And
then he says, "Look up; don't you see the gates?" And then I look, and I
see them--shining gold gates, very big, and covered with jewels like Mrs.
Graham wears on her fingers. I go up and up, and then I'm there.'
'Is that all?'
'Why, that's just the beginning. I'm only outside. The gates are shut,
but when they see me coming, two more angels come and swing them wide
open, and I'm feeling rather frightened, but I walk in. There's a long
wide street made like the gates, and I walk very carefully, for fear of
slipping down, then I see a lot of angels coming along with trumpets, and
then they go first and begin to play like the soldiers' band. I march on
to a very, very, very big door, and there on the steps leading up stands
my Captain.'
Teddy paused. 'I can't tell you what He's like, but I feel what He's
like myself. Such a loving, kind face, and He puts His hand on my head
and says, "Well done, Teddy!" And then I take hold of His hand, and I
think I cry.'
Matter-of-fact Nancy sees with surprise that Teddy's eyes are filling
with tears at the thought.
He went on softly, 'I think He takes me up in His arms then, because I'm
very tired, and He carries me into the most beautiful garden you ever saw
in your life, and He takes me to father, who is waiting there.'
'Tell me what the garden's like.'
Teddy does not speak; he is full of the meeting with his father, and
Nancy waits a little impatiently.
'The garden is lovely,' he said at last, drawing in a breath of delight
at the thought. 'It's always sunny and warm, the grass is very soft and
green, and there's every flower in the world all bunched up together. The
seats are made of roses, and if you want to go to sleep, the pillows are
made up of violets; there's a beautiful river, and trees full of apples
and oranges, and plums and pears; the banks are red--they're made of
strawberries.'
'Oh,' gasped Nancy, 'how lovely!'
'There are summer-houses, and little white boats to row on the river, and
gold harps hanging up on the trees; and then I think, I hope, there are
lots of dogs running about, and then you can ride all day on lions, and
tigers, and bears, and they won't bite you, but lick your hands.'
'Go on. What else?'
'Then we stand up and sing hymns when my Captain comes by, and we
play on the harps, and blow the trumpets as much as ever we like. I
think my Captain sometimes comes and sits down and talks to us and
tells us stories.'
There was silence; then Nancy said, 'Is that all?'
'That's enough for you,' said Teddy, a little condescendingly. 'I think
and make believe a lot more.'
'I want to go to heaven,' Nancy said thoughtfully.
Then Teddy came back to earth.
'Have you enlisted yet?' he asked.
'I'm not going to be a soldier,' said Nancy quickly.
'Well, you'll never get to heaven if you don't fight for our Captain now.
He won't let you inside the gates unless you belong to Him. Girls can
fight just as much as boys.'
'Of course they can. I can fight as well as you, button-boy!'
'Why don't you fight your enemy, then?'
'What enemy?'
'My enemy is called Ipse. He's a dreadful trouble to me. You've got
yours--the thing inside you that makes you want to do naughty things;
you've got to fight it, and do the good things instead. I've had two
fights with Ipse to-day.'
'Have you? Do tell me!'
'You mustn't tell any one, then. It was in church this morning. There was
an old woman in front of me, and she'd untied her bonnet, and the ribbons
fell over in our pew. She went fast asleep in the sermon, and nodded her
head back till it almost tumbled off her head, and Ipse thought if I
would put out my hand and just give a tiny, weeny pull at the ribbon, it
would come right off!'
Nancy clapped her hands. 'Why didn't you? What fun!'
'I wanted to let Ipse have his way dreadful, but I remembered I must
fight him, and I did. I asked my Captain to help me, and then I put both
my hands in my pockets, and screwed up my eyes tight. But I was glad when
she woke up and tied her bonnet on again.'
'That was much gooder than I could have been. What's the other
fight you had?'
'Uncle Jake brought some fresh honey from the hives, and he put it on a
plate in the window in the kitchen. He said when he went out of the room,
"Don't touch that, Teddy," as I was waiting for mother to come to church
with me, and I went up and looked at it. Ipse said to me, "Just put one
finger in it." And I had to fight him very hard over that, but I ran away
out of the room.'
'And do you always fight him hard?'
'No; I often forget till it's too late. Mother said I must ask my Captain
to make me remember. I do ask Him a lot to help me.'
'I don't think I like that sort of fighting.'
'Nancy, I wish you'd give yourself to God as His soldier.' Teddy turned
round earnestly as he spoke.
'I think,' said Nancy slowly, 'I like to be naughty best.' Then she
added, with quick change of tone, 'My father is coming home soon, and
he'll come to see us here. Then you'll see what a grand sailor he is. He
is much grander than your father was.'
'My father was an officer,' said Teddy proudly.
'So's my father; he is a first-class petty officer'; and Nancy brought
out the words slowly and with much emphasis.
'My father was a non-commissioned officer,' said Teddy, determining not
to be beaten; 'he was a full sergeant.'
'My father gives orders to all the sailors, and they have to do what he
tells them.'
'So did my father, and he led the soldiers through a battle.'
'My father will fight in twenty battles before he dies, and yours only
fought in one.'
'My father is in heaven, and that's the grandest place to be in.'
Coming to this climax was too much for Nancy, and the thoughts of
that place of which they had been having so much talk subdued their
rising ire.
Teddy said reproachfully, after a minute's silence, 'Ipse was nearly
getting angry with you then. You're such a dreadful girl for making me
quarrel with you.'
'You won't let me say my father is as good as yours,' protested Nancy.
'He isn't better. Yes--don't get angry, Nancy; let's say they're just
the same.'
And with this admission Nancy was for the time pacified.
Before they parted she looked at her little companion with solemn eyes.
'I won't promise, but I'll think about belonging to the Captain. I should
like to go to heaven.'
It was one day soon after this that Teddy was straying over the fields in
his happy, careless fashion; fond as he was of games with the village
boys, often there were times when he liked his own society best, and he
wandered on talking to himself, and gathering grass and wild-flowers as
he went. His quick eyes soon noted some sheep making their way through a
gap in the hedge, and from thence they were going through an open gate
into the high road.
'Those are Farmer Green's sheep,' quoth he to himself. 'I'm glad of
it--horrid old man he is! No, Ipse, be quiet; that isn't the way to
think of him. I'll go and drive them back again!'
And he trotted off with this intention; but it is much more difficult to
get sheep into their rightful place than out of it, and this Teddy found
to his cost. His face was hot and red, his voice hoarse with shouting,
and then, to his consternation, Farmer Green appeared on the scene.
'You young vagabond,' he shouted, springing towards him, a thick stick in
hand, 'leave my sheep alone! How dare you come on my premises? You're
always after some fresh trick or other.'
Teddy stood still till he came up to him, then looked up frankly at him.
'Indeed, sir, I was trying to drive them back through their hole again.
Look, that's where they broke through.'
'A likely story! Much more probable you made the hole yourself.'
Teddy's blood rushed into his face. 'I never tell a lie!' he cried, 'and
you're a--'
He stopped, and hung his head in shame at the word that almost
slipped from him.
Jonathan Green looked curiously at him.
'Now may I ask what the end of that speech was going to be?' he
said grimly.
Teddy looked up. 'Ipse was going to say you was a liar yourself, but I
just stopped him in time.'
'I shall believe you have a bee in your bonnet, as some folks say,' said
the farmer; 'pray, if the sheep came out of their proper field, what
business was that of yours?'
'I wanted to be good to you. I'm sorry I tied you up that day, dreadful
sorry. And I've got to love you, so I thought it would be a good plan to
send your sheep back again.'
'You've got to love me!' repeated the farmer, opening his eyes in mock
surprise; 'and when did I ask for any of your love, young fellow?'
'I don't suppose you want me to,' observed Teddy cheerfully, as he saw
that the stick, instead of being brandished over his head, was now safely
resting on the ground, 'but I've got to do it, you see, because my banner
I'm holding for my Captain is Love, and I must love everybody.'
The farmer did not answer. Teddy continued earnestly,--
'Do you think you could manage to forgive me, and let us shake hands? It
would make it easier for me to love you if you could.'
There was such honesty of purpose in the blue eyes raised to his, such
wistful curves to the sensitive little lips, that Jonathan Green for the
first time felt the thrall of the child's power.
'Come into the house with me,' he said, 'and I'll see what the missus has
to say to you.'
Teddy followed him without the slightest misgiving, and he was led into
the farmhouse kitchen, where Mrs. Green sat knitting over the fire, and
one of her daughters was laying the cloth for tea.
'Mary Ann, here's the scamp of the village come to see you; keep him here
till I come back. I'm after some stray sheep'; and shutting the door with
a bang the farmer disappeared.
Teddy shook hands with the old lady and the young one, and then seated
himself in the big chair opposite Mrs. Green.
'What have you been doing?' the latter inquired; 'how is it your mother
can't keep you out of mischief?'
'I haven't been in mischief, really I haven't'; and poor Teddy felt the
truth of the saying, 'Give a dog a bad name, and hang him.'
He tried to tell his story, and then when that did not seem to be
understood, he deftly changed the subject.
'What does Farmer Green like best in the world?' he asked.
This astonishing question struck Mrs. Green dumb, but her daughter
Natty laughed.
'Gooseberry pudding!' she said. 'Now then, what's the next question?
But Teddy was silent, and not another word did he say till the farmer
came in again.
'This youngster is on the tack of reforming himself, Mary Ann,' said
Jonathan, sitting down in the chair that Teddy immediately vacated upon
his entrance; 'do you believe it?'
'I have no faith in boys,' said Mrs. Green, with a shake of her head,
'they're all alike, and are always taking you unawares!'
'You hear what the missus says; you won't get no help from that quarter.
But I'll give you a chance; would you like to stop to tea with us?'
Teddy smiled. 'Thank you, sir, but mother will expect me home to tea; may
I go now? And do you forgive me for what I did the other day?'
Farmer Green stretched out a hard horny hand, and took the boy's small
one. 'Here's my hand on't!' he said with his grim smile. 'I may be a fool
for believing you, but if you're sorry for the past, I won't be the one
to rake it up.'
Teddy's upward look was so full of innocence that he received a clap on
the shoulder.
'Run along; you've made your peace with me.'
And speeding away Teddy whispered to himself,--
'I shall ask mother to make it, and I shall pick the gooseberries myself,
and then he'll know I love him!'
Farmer Green was much bewildered a few days after at receiving a parcel
which was left at his house by some boys on their way back from school;
he was still more puzzled when upon opening it, it proved to be a
gooseberry pudding in a basin, with a piece of paper attached to it, and
these words in very shaky writing, 'I send you my love.--Teddy.'
But his daughter was able to enlighten him, and they had a hearty laugh
over Teddy's mode of confirming the treaty of friendship.