Read Ebook: A Floating Home by Atkins J B John Black Ionides Cyril Bennett Arnold Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 101 lines and 6628 words, and 3 pages

A CHRISTMAS STORY.

IT was Christmas morning. Gracie Bennett had wakened early and scrambled out of bed to take a look about her room to see if Santa Claus had paid her a visit while she slept. Santa Claus had queer ways of doing things in the Bennett household. He left packages scattered about in the most unexpected places. He was always sure to leave one for each member of the family in the dining-room, to be opened at the breakfast table, but the children did not have to wait so long for the beginning of the day's surprises. And Gracie found several of these before she had taken half a dozen steps from her bed. Indeed there was a large box on the foot of the bed. In it she found the hat she had been longing for--just exactly like Maud Spencer's! And there in a smaller box was the necklace--and O, how lovely! The bangle bracelet--mamma did not fancy bangles and Gracie did not expect to get that. But mamma knew that little girls' tastes have to be cultivated considerably before they get beyond bangles, and after talking it over with papa she concluded that Gracie's last whim should be indulged since there was really no harm in it. On went the necklace, and on went the bracelet. "One, two, three, four, five, six--six hooks. Let me see--cousin Tom promised me a bangle and of course papa and mamma will each give me one, and Maud's will make four--O, I'll soon have enough to fill it. My! it is shivery here," and Gracie looked around for something to put about her; the furnace fire had run low and it was quite cold. A dressing-gown belonging to cousin Tom which Louise had brought in to mend, hung over a chair, and Gracie was soon arrayed in it. And finding herself quite comfortable she concluded not to go back to bed, but busied herself with her new treasures, saying, "Just as soon as the first bell rings I'll go and wish papa and mamma 'Merry Christmas!'" Presently the bell pealed through the house, and Gracie, arrayed in her new hat, made her first call. Then she pattered down the hall to cousin Tom's room to be first with Christmas greetings. Tom was up, and opening the door, drew her into his room.

"O, how nice! your grate burns lovely."

After the new hat, necklace and bangle bracelet had been duly admired, Tom and Gracie, his little cousin, sat down in the great arm chair to enjoy the bright fire and have one of their chats.

"Who are you going to make happy to-day?"

"Me? How can I make anybody happy?"

Tom smiled as he replied, "Do you not know that you make us all happy, just by being here?"

"O, I thought you meant something different."

"So I did, little one. There are a great many people in this city who have very little to make them happy, and you and I who have so much may make at least one heart joyful on this glad Christmas day, do you not think so?"

"If I knew how," said Gracie.

"We will try to find a way. I see you are quite dressed up this morning," referring to the dressing-gown. "Do you see my new one?"

"Yes; you are the one that is dressed up."

"I know a poor invalid to whom I mean to give the old one, and there is a little girl who has not a comfortable dress nor a pair of shoes."

"Nor any nice hat and bracelet?"

"No, I doubt if she has any hat or even a hood. I saw her out with an old shawl over her head."

Just then the second bell rang and Gracie was obliged to go and get ready for breakfast. Other surprises awaited her, but she was unusually thoughtful, and at last Louise said, "Gracie, what makes you so sober? Are you not satisfied?"

"O, yes; but I am thinking what I can give to a little girl who has nothing to make her happy to-day."

"I don't believe there are any such people," said Louise; "everybody manages to get about so much out of something, I guess. They may not have just what we have, but there's something."

"Do you believe that?" asked cousin Tom.

"Maybe not exactly, but there's no use in making a child like Gracie miserable over what she can't help," replied Louise, in a low tone.

"But she can help a little."

"I am going to help," said Gracie earnestly, having caught the drift of Tom's question. "I have made up my mind what I shall send the little girl cousin Tom told me about."

"Suppose I should take you to see her?"

"I should like that! If mamma will let me go."

"I think she will. Auntie, will you let me have Gracie for an hour this morning? I will take good care of her."

"O, mamma!" expostulated Louise, "he is going to take her among his poor people! She will be sure to get a fever or something!"

"I am going to take you, too," said Tom; "and I am not going to take either of you into any dangerous places."

Louise arched her eyebrows as she replied, "Going to take me! We'll see." But she went. She generally did whatever Tom suggested.

I am not certain whether it was the package of warm clothing, the basket containing the Christmas dinner, the toys which Gracie had packed, not forgetting a bead necklace, or the presence of the beautiful child and lovely young lady in that home, that brought the most of happiness upon that Christmas day to the sad heart of Karl Ritter and his lonely little girl. But this I do know, that the visitors carried away as much happiness as they brought, for Gracie declared it was the nicest Christmas she had ever spent, and even Louise confessed that there was a new joy in her heart that day, for she had tested the truth, "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

GEORGIE AND JACK.

A SHIP lay becalmed on the ocean-- Of all beautiful, helpless things! She lay like a wounded sea-bird With motionless, snow-white wings. Day after day had she lain there With never a sail in sight; A cloudless sky above her Morning and noon and night.

Precious and rare was the cargo Hidden deep in her hold, To be borne to a Northern market And changed into yellow gold. But naught was that to the captain Pacing the hot deck there, To the little wife who was with him, And the child with his sunny hair,

The child who under the awning Lay moaning his life away, The child who was going to leave him Ere the close of that weary day. There was another on that good ship Whose race was nearly run, A bronzed and grizzled sailor Who would die ere the set of sun.

And they two had loved each other-- The sailor old and gray, And dear little baby Georgie Whose life was a summer day. Was it only a childish fancy-- Or because he was worn and sad That the sinful, weary pilgrim Had been loved by the little lad?

A weak voice calls the captain: "Papa, won't you please come here?" "I am here--I am listening to you, What is it, Georgie dear?" "Papa, I want to see Jack, And Jack wants to see me so-- Mamma says I am going to leave you, I must see him before I go.

When the sun passed his meridian Little Georgie went away; The old man lived till round and red He dipped at the close of day. But ere he went his faltering tongue This prayer sent up from the sea: "For Georgie's sake--for the sake of Thy Son, Be merciful to me!"

They treasured the small white body With its quiet little feet, But they gave to the brown old sailor A sailor's winding-sheet. There came at length a blessed breeze That filled the limp white sail And tightened the creaking halyards With the strength of a fair fresh gale.

So it came to pass as all things do, That one fair and sunny day, Proud and staunch in the harbor The ship at her anchor lay. But the captain bent to the sad white face That rested against his arm, And said, "Dear wife, little Georgie Is safe from all sin and harm;

"His life was bright and beautiful, With nothing its joy to dim, He gladdened the heart of a sinful man, And--'took him to Heaven with him.' "We will bury his dust, little mother, Under the trees at home, But Georgie beholds the face of Him Who said: 'Let the children come.'" EMILY BAKER SMALLE.

THE PANSY.

REACHING OUT.

BY PANSY.

"NEXT thing we want to do is to earn some money."

This, Jerry said, as he sat on the side step with Nettie, after sunset. They had been having a long talk, planning the campaign against the enemy, which they had made up their minds should be carried on with vigor. At least, they had been trying to plan; but that obstacle which seems to delight to step into the midst of so many plans and overturn them, viz. money, met them at every point. So when Jerry made that emphatic announcement, Nettie was prepared to agree with him fully; but none the less did she turn anxious eyes on him as she said:

"How can we?"

"I don't know yet," Jerry said, whistling a few bars of

Oh, do not be discouraged,

Nettie laughed a little. "Well, I am sure," she said, "there is a will in this case; in fact, there are two wills; for you seem to have a large one, and I know if ever I was determined to do a thing I am now; but for all that I can't think of a possible way to earn a cent."

Now Sarah Ann Smith was at this moment standing by the kitchen window, looking out on the two schemers. Her sleeves were rolled above her elbow, for she was about to set the sponge for bread; she had her large neat work apron tied over her neat dress-up calico; and on her head was perched the frame out of which, with Nettie's skilful help, and some pieces of lace from her mother's old treasure bag, she meant to make herself a bonnet every bit as pretty as the one worn by Miss Sherrill the Sabbath before.

"Talk of keeping things seven years and they'll come good," said Mrs. Smith, watching with satisfaction while Nettie tumbled over the contents of the bag in eager haste and exclaimed over this and that piece which would be "just lovely." "I've kept the rubbish in that bag going on to twenty years, just because the pretty girls where I used to do clear-starching, gave them to me. I had no kind of notion what I should ever do with them; but they looked bright and pretty, and I always was a master hand for bright colors, and so whenever they w

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet