Feeding the Hungry
MRS. HARRINGTON did not come down to her children for some days. When
she arrived she was in deep black, and she brought the family lawyer
with her. She did not see much of her children, but then she never had.
She cried a little over them the first evening of her arrival, then she
began to discuss their clothes with Nurse.
"I will have no black frocks. Keep them in their holland and white
ones, and give them black sashes and ribbons, and put a black ribbon
round their hats. That is all that is necessary."
"As long as we are in the country, I suppose, ma'am," said Nurse, with
rather a shocked face.
"I am not going to have you back in town for some time. I am going to
let our town house, but I will talk to you about this later on."
Nurse looked rather dismayed, but she said nothing.
This was all that the children heard. They were pleased at the idea
of staying on in the country, and now that Nurse was more occupied
with their mother, and less in the nursery, they enjoyed greater
liberty. Jane was very good-natured, and was not particular about their
behaviour. When she went out walking with them they could do pretty
well as they liked. One afternoon they met Dreamikins with her maid.
She welcomed them with rapture.
"I've been longing to see you. Cherubine and me feel quite dull. Fibo
told me your daddy was dead. Are you very sad?"
"Of course we are," said Daffy. "We've cried gallons, and all the house
is miserable, and everybody wears black dresses but us; it's a shame!"
"Do you like black frocks? Why?"
"Because they don't show the dirt," said Freda promptly. "We hoped Mums
would give us some, but she won't."
"I s'pose you've been too miserable to think of being sheep."
"No-o," said Freda slowly; "we've laid plans for the stranger's
bedroom, but it isn't ready yet."
"Mine is," said Dreamikins, with pride. "I maded the bed myself. I
asked Fibo if I might get a bedroom ready for a visitor, and he said
'Yes.' Fibo nearly always says 'Yes,' he is such an A.M."
"What's that?"
"Angel Man. I always call him that when he is special kind. I've come
out this morning to hunt about for a stranger, but I can't find one;
not even a little one. Everybody we've met lives about here."
"We might do some of the other things first," said Daffy thoughtfully.
"But the stranger is the most exciting," said Freda. "I'm longing to
meet him."
And then as they were walking along the lane talking eagerly somebody
came towards them. It was a man, and he was in dusty clothes, and he
limped. He carried an old sack across his shoulder, and one of his
boots was tied round his foot with a handkerchief.
In a moment the three little girls darted towards him.
Dreamikins reached him first.
"Would you like to sleep at our house to-night?" she asked him
breathlessly.
"No, at ours," shouted Freda and Daffy together.
He looked at them surlily.
"Garn with yer games!" he said; and he pushed past them, but Dreamikins
laid her soft little hand on his arm.
"You must listen—we'll make you. It isn't a game; it's real sober
truth. If you don't want us to take you in, p'raps you're hungry, or
thirsty. Are you?"
Then the old tramp stopped.
"Yes," he said, "I be fair longin' for a drink. Have ye a copper,
little leddies?"
But Dreamikins shook her head. "We must give it to you ourselves, and I
reached you first, so I'll do it."
Freda and Daffy looked rebellious. But Dreamikins turned upon them with
her sweetest smile.
"You won't mind, will you? I'll just go and get him a glass of milk.
I'll take him to our house and give it to him. You see, my house is
nearer than yours."
Before Freda and Daffy could offer any objections she had turned the
corner of the lane with the tramp.
Annette, who had been talking to Jane, now hurried up.
"Ah, Miss Emmeline!" she exclaimed. "Where is it now that cheeld has
gone? Away with a beggar? What a life I lead!"
She ran after her little charge, and Freda and Daffy were following,
when Jane stopped them, and insisted upon going another way.
"'Tisn't time to be turning back to the village yet. Come, Miss Freda,
we're going to the wood where the nuts are. You let them go and fight
their own battles. We'll go on where we meant to go."
Jane gained her point after some disputing; but Daffy whispered:
"We'll go and see Dreamikins this afternoon when we're playing in the
garden, and we'll go through the little door."
[Illustration: FREDA AND DAFFY POUNCED UPON HIM IMMEDIATELY]
"I mean to be first next time," said Freda. "Dreamikins will take every
one away from us if we don't take care."
For the first time they felt rather angry with their little friend; but
they were very curious to know whether she had given the strange man a
drink or not.
"The thing for us to do is to be ready for everything out of doors,"
said Freda, with decision. "We must have food and drink in our pockets,
and give them to the very first beggar we see."
"I wish it wasn't beggars we have to look for; they're so dirty and
rude," said Daffy discontentedly.
But on their way home fortune seemed to favour them. They came across
a little boy with a white face and ragged coat sitting in the hedge.
His feet were bare, and he was clutching a bundle which rested on his
knees. Freda and Daffy pounced upon him immediately.
"Are you thirsty?"
"Hungry, are you?"
"Sick?"
"Do you want a nice bed to-night to go to sleep on?"
The boy looked at them with rather frightened eyes, and didn't speak.
"Who are you, and where do you live?" asked Freda, trying to speak
more quietly. "You must be quick and answer, because Jane will be
interfering, so make haste."
The boy jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.
"My feyther be on his rounds. He've gone over to them there 'ouses to
mend their pots and pans."
"Is he a tinker?"
The boy nodded.
"And are you very poor? Wouldn't you like us to give you something to
eat and drink?"
Another nod, but the boy's face brightened, and he looked up at them
expectantly.
Alas, Jane came up.
"Now, Miss Freda, Nurse don't allow you to speak to tramps, I know."
"He isn't a tramp," said Freda indignantly; "his father is a tinker. We
have a picture in our book 'Tim the Tinker.' They're kind of gipsies,
and he's a very nice little boy."
Daffy bent her head near the stranger child.
"Come up to the Hall this afternoon at three o'clock, and wait behind
the big tree in front of the house," she whispered.
Freda heard the whisper and approved. Very often whilst she hotly
disputed with Nurse, Daffy quietly went and did the thing they wanted
to do.
Jane found no difficulty in getting them to come home. Freda and Daffy
walked on sedately in front of her. They talked eagerly in low tones,
and made plans for the good of the small wayfarer.
They were turned out in the garden as usual, after their nursery
dinner. Both Freda and Daffy had managed to secrete some meat, and
Freda had added a piece of currant pudding, which she put in her
pocket. Daffy had got a medicine bottle filled with clean water. They
made their way to the grand old cedar in the centre of the lawn, and
there sat down to wait for their visitor. Bertie was trundling his
wheelbarrow along the gravel path. He was filling it with small stones
as he went.
"We shall do better than Dreamikins," said Daffy. "And the Bible says a
cup of cold water, not milk, is the thing to be given. I remember Nurse
reading it to us long ago, so I've got a cup in my pocket too."
"But we haven't got his bed ready," said Freda disconsolately. "It
seems so difficult; p'raps he won't want it. We'll ask him."
The time seemed long as they sat there and waited.
At last they thought they saw something moving in the shrubbery at the
bottom of the lawn; and then a little figure came out of it, and crept
up to them very shyly. He was barefooted no longer. He had washed his
face and hands and looked quite tidy and respectable.
Freda looked a little disappointed.
"Are you really hungry and thirsty?" she asked sternly. "Speak the
truth, for this isn't a game, it's a—a religious thing!"
"And," said Daffy, looking at him with dancing eyes, "if it's done
properly it will turn us into sheep."
Well might the small boy stare at the children in dazed wonder.
"There be six of us," he said, "and times be bad, and feyther he won't
go for a soldier, and mother she lams it into him he oughter."
"Of course he ought," said Freda; "our father went out to fight in
Egypt somewhere, and he's been killed."
The small boy did not seem impressed, but he told them he was "fair
famished."
"Now sit down, and we'll give you something to eat and drink. You
first, Daffy."
So Daffy with great pride pulled out of her pocket a small china cup
and her medicine bottle of water.
She filled the cup solemnly and presented it to him.
He looked at it, took a gulp, then pitched the cup on the grass, and
Freda declared afterwards that he used a "wicked swear" word.
"I didn't come up 'ere in the bloomin' heat to be fooled," he said.
Freda and Daffy looked quite frightened.
Freda hastily produced some slices of cold roast mutton in a paper
parcel.
"We're not fooling you; we're giving you what the Bible tells us to
give you—meat and water. And I've a piece of pudding besides. Here it
is!"
He almost snatched the meat from her, and ate it wolfishly in his
fingers.
"Hain't you got no more?" he asked.
"Here's the pudding," said Freda.
She and Daffy watched him with disgusted faces. Then Daffy said very
gently:
"I don't think you know how very differcult it's been to get you
anything at all. We had to get Nurse out of the room, and coax Jane,
and then she would hardly let us take any."
The pudding quickly disappeared, and then the boy's bright impudent
eyes looked up.
"Mother thought as 'ow you might give me something for the little 'uns.
Feyther—he drinks more'n he earns."
"We've nothing more to-day," said Freda hastily; "except p'raps we
could get a bedroom for you. Would you like to sleep with us one night?"
He grinned, but shook his head.
"Where do you sleep?" asked Daffy.
"We lives in Northcott; we was only comin' roun' the village 'ere,
feyther and me. Mother 'll be on the look-out for me now; 'er did hope
for a napple puddin' or such-like."
Even Freda and Daffy received that suggestion suspiciously. Apple
puddings, of course, would be a boy's taste, but a mother with a
starving family might prefer something more nourishing. Then from under
his jacket he produced a dirty white calico bag.
"Mother giv' me this to bring back full," he said.
Freda and Daffy gasped as they saw the size of it.
They consulted together in low tones.
"You see, we shall be feeding a lot of hungry children all at once,"
said Freda. "I'm sure it would be a good thing to do. Let's take the
bag, Daffy, and go round to the yard by the back-kitchen door. The
kitchen-maid might give us some scraps."
"Yes; we'll tell him to wait here."
No sooner said than done. The boy threw himself down on the grass under
the tree, and the little girls ran off with his bag.
They were fortunate in meeting Nellie, the kitchen-maid. She was
filling a can from a tap in the yard. They hastily explained to her
what they wanted.
"A dear little hungry boy, and he will be glad of any scraps."
"Dear Nellie, do give us some, but don't tell Nurse."
She laughed.
"Eh, but you'll be gettin' me into a scrape sure enough if Cook catches
me."
But she took the bag, and in about five minutes' time came back with it
nearly full.
"'Twill only be thrown to the fowls and dogs," she said. "There, get
on, or else we'll all be getting into trouble."
Away marched the little girls with their burden, but, alas! as they
turned round the corner of the house they saw a big motor at the hall
door.
Their mother was saying good-bye to some friends, and, to add to their
dismay, Nurse was crossing the lawn with Bertie.
Mrs. Harrington caught sight of her little girls, and called to them.
"Come and speak to your godmother, Freda; and Daffy too. Come along!"
Daffy ran forward, but, on the impulse of the moment, Freda dropped her
bag and sat upon it. It was the only way she could hide it.
Daffy stopped when she saw her sister was not following her.
"Go on, Daffy; I can't get up," said Freda desperately.
"What is Freda doing?" asked Mrs. Harrington, as she introduced
her little girl to a pleasant-looking motherly woman—a Lady Aline
Cotteswode—and her son, an invalided soldier from the War.
"She can't get up," said Daffy nervously.
"Has she hurt herself? Oh, I must see my goddaughter!"
In another moment, to Freda's horror, her mother and her visitors left
the motor and came along the terrace to where she sat.
Now Freda felt she was in a desperate plight. In another moment the bag
would be exposed, and she would be handed to Nurse in deep disgrace.
"I must tell a lie, I must, I must," she said frantically to herself.
"Get up at once, Freda. What are you doing?" said Mrs. Harrington
sharply.
Freda looked up with agonised eyes.
"I can't, Mums."
"Where are you hurt?"
Then the young soldier laughed out.
"She's sitting on eggs. We mustn't disturb her."
It was only too plain that she was sitting upon something, and her
mother caught hold of her and lifted her up. Then Freda stood with
scarlet cheeks and downcast eyes, and the bag itself was lifted up by
her vexed mother.
"My little girls are always hatching mischief, not eggs," she said,
with a forced laugh. "What in the world does this bag of food mean,
Freda, and why should you try to hide it?"
"Never mind," said Lady Aline cheerfully, kissing the hot soft little
cheeks, and becoming conscious that Freda's blue eyes were filling
with tears. "You were in the middle of a lovely game when we disturbed
you. I want you to come over and spend a day with me soon. I am having
little Emmeline Broughton over. She is a close neighbour of yours. Do
you know her?"
"Dreamikins?" asked Freda, forgetting her trouble at once. "Oh yes, we
love her, and we love her uncle too."
"Ah!" said young Captain Cotteswode. "There you show your good taste!
He's a great friend of mine, and that little elf of a niece leads him a
nice dance sometimes."
Lady Aline laughed, and turned to Mrs. Harrington.
"Keep your chicks away from her, Helen, if you value your peace of
mind! She took a drunken tramp to the village inn this morning and gave
him two glasses of beer. He began to get quarrelsome, and then the
Rector passed by, heard the row, and rescued the young lady. He could
not convince her she had done wrong, for she said the man had told her
he was thirsty, and the Bible told her to give him drink."
Daffy and Freda exchanged glances.
After a little more talk, Lady Aline and her son went back to their
motor, and drove away. Then Mrs. Harrington turned to her little
daughters.
"Now, what is the meaning of this?"
"Oh, Mums, there was a poor little hungry boy, and we were taking some
scraps to him. Please let us do it. He is waiting down near that tree."
"But you mustn't encourage beggars, children. Does Nurse know about it?
And why did you behave like that, Freda? I was ashamed of you. Don't
you know you should never hide up anything? Doesn't Nurse teach you to
be truthful and frank? I must speak to her about it."
"Oh, please, Mums, forgive me," said Freda humbly. "Don't tell Nurse,
she scolds and scolds and scolds, and makes us out the wickedest
children in the world, when we are really trying to be good."
"And, darling Mums, may we just give the bag to this poor boy? For it
belongs to him, and we promised him," said Daffy coaxingly.
"Where is he?"
Freda pointed to the tree on the lawn.
Mrs. Harrington went towards it, the children following her. She spoke
rather sharply when she saw the boy.
"Look here, you must go away at once. I will let my little daughters
give you what they promised you, but I have told them it must never
occur again, and this is the last time you come near the Hall. Do you
quite understand?"
The boy took the bag held out to him by Freda, then he touched his cap
to Mrs. Harrington, and darted down the drive.
"Now then, children, run away to Nurse, and don't act so foolishly
again."
Mrs. Harrington went back to the house. Freda and Daffy drew long
breaths of relief.
"Mums won't tell Nurse. She always forgets to. I'm so glad the boy has
got it. What an awful thing for Dreamikins to do! She said she was
going to give him milk."
"I expect he told her he would rather have beer," said Daffy; "and we
were going to see her, Freda, and we haven't gone."
"It's too late now. We'll go to-morrow. We've done more than she has,
anyway."
"But he didn't like my water," said Daffy sorrowfully.