Frank's Gift.
DICK WOODBRIDGE was spending the Saturday afternoon, which happened
to be a very wet one, with the Bannister boys and girls in the large
playroom at The Gables. Teddy and Frank were inclined to be irritable,
and Eileen had all her work cut out to keep peace between them.
"I say, you two," said Dick presently, seeing that the boys were very
near a quarrel, "do keep your hair on! I've got something to tell you
if you'll only listen."
"What is it?" asked Eileen, feeling very grateful to Dick for his
timely interruption.
"There's a big show coming off at the Shire Hall at Chelsford soon
in aid of the County Hostel for Soldiers, and Uncle Nat is taking no
end of interest in it. He says that everybody ought to give or do
something."
"When is it to be?" asked Nora.
"Oh, in about a fortnight or so, and I've been puzzling my head what to
give. For the life of me, I can't think of anything."
"You might give away those freckles on the tip of your nose without
missing 'em," said Teddy, his temper feeling a bit better.
Dick grinned; he was quite used now to the chaff and fun of his young
companions.
"I know what I can do," said Nora. "I'll send one of my Persian kittens
for sale—the one I don't want to keep."
"Very generous of you," laughed Frank teasingly.
"And you can give Frisky, your fox terrier puppy," went on Nora. "I
dare say he'd sell for something."
"Sell Frisky!" exclaimed Frank. "I think I see myself. Why I wouldn't
part with Frisky for five pounds—no, not for ten!"
"You needn't worry yourself, old chap," here spoke Teddy; "you're not
likely to be offered 'that' for a mongrel like him! I know what I'll
give," he added, "and that is a couple of my rabbits. Between us we
ought to raise something."
The chat had now drifted into quite a smooth channel, and the rest of
the afternoon passed away without any further bickering.
It was about a week later, and Frank was in deep thought. He was alone
in the garden, and a struggle was going on within his heart.
"I wonder," he said to himself, "if I'm a 'very' selfish pig! All the
others have given something to the sale, and I've got nothing to give
except Frisky, and I just simply can't spare the little chap."
At this moment Frisky, as though he knew he was in his master's
thoughts, bounded to Frank's side. The boy stooped down and fondled his
pet.
"You little know," said he, "what I've been thinking about. But there,
I shan't think of it any more. There 'll be plenty of people to give
without me."
But still Frank's mind was not easy. A text his mother had taught him
when he was quite a little fellow kept coming into his mind. "Even
Christ pleased not Himself."
"I hate to be selfish," was his unspoken thought; "only horrid people
are selfish. I suppose I shall have to give him, after all."
Little as Frank realized it, the golden thread of his mother's
influence was leading him into the path of self-sacrifice.
A few days later Frank, owing to a neglected cold, was on the sick
list and under the doctor's care. And so it befell that it was Teddy
who took Frisky (Frank specially wished it, though it was hard to say
good-bye to his pet) to the Shire Hall at Chelsford for sale on behalf
of the hostel.
"Five shillings for a fox terrier!" The auctioneer, Mr. Fleet by name,
looked around the crowded room as he spoke. "Come now, aren't you going
to offer me more than that? I want ten times that amount," he declared,
"not a penny less!"
Frisky, the fox terrier in question, who was perched on a chair near
the speaker, here gave a little yelp as though he too had something to
say upon the subject.
"I reckon, sir, 'want' will have to be your master!" cried a voice from
the audience.
"I think not," replied Mr. Fleet. "Suppose now I tell you the story of
Frisky, this fox terrier. He is the gift of a little lad who prized him
above all his possessions. The tale is true, for I heard it from one
who knows him well."
Dick Woodbridge, as it happened, had told Mr. Fleet all about it.
"He was afraid of being selfish," went on Mr. Fleet, "so he gave of his
best. It isn't every one of us who could say that, is it?
"There is just one thing more I would like you to know, and I'm sure
you will be sorry to hear it—Frisky's little master is lying ill, and
for his sake, as well as for the good cause, I ask you to be liberal."
Scarcely had Mr. Fleet finished speaking than fifty shillings
"were" offered, the bids rising rapidly one after another, until
finally the fox terrier puppy was knocked down to the squire of the
neighbourhood—Sir Matthew Harley—for the sum of five pounds.
He too had given of his best—his son for his country, and a fellow
feeling had made him wondrous kind.
It was just as the bargain was completed that Dick Woodbridge, his face
looking very anxious, entered the room. He had come post haste from The
Gables in order to buy Frisky and restore him to his master, if the
price was not beyond his powers. None of the Bannister children, to
their disappointment, were there on that day, Frank's illness causing a
certain amount of anxiety in the household.
Dick was somewhat taken aback to find that Frisky had already been
sold, and for such a sum, but still he was not hopeless of attaining
his object. Seeking out his Uncle Nat, he made a bold request.
"Please, Uncle Nat," said he, "I want you to lend me five pounds."
"Five pounds!" repeated Mr. Grimwood in surprise. "Whatever for, my
lad?"
Then Dick told him.
"I believe," finished the boy, "that if I could take Frisky back to
Frank, it would do him a power of good. He's quite ill to-day, and the
doctor is half afraid of pneumonia."
Mr. Grimwood looked thoughtful.
"I never lend," said he, "on principle. Besides, how do you know that
Sir Matthew will part with the dog?"
"I don't know," replied Dick, "but I believe he would, for he looks
kind. Uncle Nat," he went on earnestly, "if you won't 'lend' me the
money, may I have five pounds instead of the bicycle you promised me on
my next birthday?"
Mr. Grimwood was surprised, and inwardly very pleased. He had not
expected such unselfishness from Dick, although, as he well knew, the
lad had much improved in character of late.
"Well," he said, after a little consideration, "we'll see what Sir
Matthew has to say about it."
But the Squire, when the request was made, and he had heard the whole
story, shook his head.
"No," he said, "I want that fox terrier for a special purpose."
Dick was now feeling almost in despair. "Oh, 'please,' Sir Matthew,"
cried he, "'do' let me buy him back."
"Suppose—" (there was a kindly twinkle in Sir Matthew's eyes as he
spoke) "I want it for the same purpose as 'you' do."
"Oh, Sir Matthew!" Dick almost gasped in his relief. "Do you really
mean it?"
"Of course I do; I never say what I don't mean. Take the dog, and tell
its master from me I hope he'll soon be better."
Dick was too delighted to express his thanks properly, but he did his
best; Mr. Grimwood also expressing his appreciation of the Squire's
kindness.
Very soon after this Dick was hurrying off to The Gables with Frisky in
his arms.
[Illustration: FRANK'S DELIGHT AT SEEING HIS PET AGAIN WAS ALMOST
TEARFUL.]
Frank's delight at seeing his pet again was almost tearful, for the boy
was feeling both weak and ill. When he heard all there was to tell, he
gripped Dick's hand with all the strength he possessed.
"Dick, old chap," said he, "you're a brick—that's what you are; and so
is Sir Matthew!"
Strange to say, the change for the better in Frank seemed to date from
that time. At least, so said Mrs. Weston and the children.
And the doctor, when he called next day and saw the improvement in his
young patient, declared with a laugh that Frisky had done him more good
than all the medicine in the world.