Read Ebook: Whilst father was fighting by Stooke Eleanora H Morrow Albert George Illustrator

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Ebook has 447 lines and 16528 words, and 9 pages

"I found him in the street one wet night, when he was a puppy," Mrs. Winter explained; "he was shivering with cold, and I think he'd have died if I hadn't taken him home with me. Next day I tried to find his owner, but I couldn't, so I kept him. He's about six years old now."

"Older than me!" exclaimed Jackie, adding, "Oh! I think he's a dear dog!"

"He is," agreed Mrs. Winter; "he's no beauty, but he's as good as gold, and so loving and faithful! I always feel thankful God sent him to me."

"I thought you said you found him?" said Jackie.

"So I did," replied Mrs. Winter smiling; "but I'm sure God put him in my way so that I might befriend him. God is love, you know, and for certain He loves every creature He made. It tells us in the Bible that He cares for the sparrows, and I'm as sure He cares for Stray as I'm sure He cares for you and me."

This was a new idea to Jackie, so he pondered it in silence. Presently Mrs. Winter said--

"Isn't this your brother coming towards us?"

Yes, it was Bob. He looked surprised when he saw Jackie's companions; then a smile lit up his face, and shone in his eyes, which were as clear and blue as his little brother's.

"It was ever so kind of you to go in and talk to Jackie last night, Mrs. Winter!" were the first words he said. "You see," he went on, "Aunt Martha puts him to bed early, and he lies awake getting more and more frightened the darker it gets, and--"

"Oh, he shan't do that any longer if I can help it!" Mrs. Winter broke in. "I'll ask Mrs. Mead if I may sit with him till he falls asleep, shall I?"

"Oh, if you only would!" Bob cried gratefully. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked Jackie.

"It would be lovely," the little boy answered; "I shouldn't mind its being dark then."

Mrs. Mead was secretly pleased when her new lodger offered to relieve her of the task of putting Jackie to bed every night, and consented at once.

"I used to be a children's nurse," Mrs. Winter told her, "so I understand little people and love them. You will not object to my staying with Jackie for a bit after he's in bed?"

"Oh, no!" Mrs. Mead answered. "I'm afraid you were disturbed by his crying last night. I couldn't let Bob stop with him because I wanted his help--he runs errands for me in the evenings, you see."

As a matter of fact, Mrs. Mead was working Bob much too hard, sending him here, there, and everywhere to fetch and carry loads of vegetables a great deal too heavy for his strength. He had been very high-spirited and the picture of health when he had come to Bristol; but he was daily growing thinner, and paler, and more and more depressed. It took a load of anxiety from his mind, however, to know that no longer whilst he was at work for his aunt in the evenings would Jackie be crying and fretting in the dark.

"Don't you feel tremendously grateful to Mrs. Winter?" he asked Jackie one day, about a week after the new lodger's arrival.

"Oh, yes!" the little boy replied, "I do, Bobbie. She's a dear, and Stray's a dear, too! I love them both! It was kind of God to send them here!"

"How do you know He did?" questioned Bob.

"Because Mrs. Winter told me so," was the prompt response.

"How does she know, Jackie?"

Jackie shook his head.

"She didn't tell me," he said; "but I'll ask her. She did say it, so of course it's true."

BOB AND STRAY MAKE AN ENEMY

THE first time Mrs. Mead called on her new lodger to receive her rent, which had to be paid weekly, she looked around the attic approvingly, so dainty and clean was everything; then she raised her eyebrows in surprise, for seated at the little round table near the window was Jackie, a picture of contentment, his head bent over a picture book Mrs. Winter had lent him.

"Why, Jackie, how comes it you are here?" Mrs. Mead inquired. Without waiting for a reply she turned to Mrs. Winter, and said--"I hope he doesn't worry you; you must send him away if he does."

"Oh, he doesn't!" Mrs. Winter assured her. "I love having him with me, and he didn't know what to do with himself as there's no school to-day."

"Such a mistake giving children a whole holiday on Saturday!" Mrs. Mead grumbled, "I'm sure they don't need it; though I admit I'm glad to have Bob at home to run errands, as Saturday is always my busiest day."

Mrs. Winter paid her rent, and had her rent-book receipted. Then Mrs. Mead observed Stray, who was lying on a mat before the fireplace.

"He seems a well-behaved, quiet dog," she remarked, "and you keep him very clean; his coat looks in good condition, as though it was brushed pretty often."

"It is, every day," Mrs. Winter replied smiling.

"I brushed and combed him this morning," Jackie informed his aunt eagerly; "and, afterwards, he jumped up and licked my face, so he must like me, mustn't he?"

Mrs. Mead nodded.

"It must cost you something to feed him, Mrs. Winter," she said. "I'll tell Lizzie to save our scraps for him in future."

Every day after that a plate of scraps was sent up to Mrs. Winter's attic from the kitchen, so that now Stray was better fed than he had ever been in his life before.

Swiftly passed the summer days, then came August when the schools were closed for a month. It was really no holiday for Bob, because his aunt kept him running errands and allowed him no time to himself. Only on Sundays did he get any rest.

Mrs. Mead always took her nephews to church with her on Sunday mornings. During the remainder of the day she did not trouble about them, as long as they kept out of her way; so when one Sunday afternoon, on their return from Sunday school, Mrs. Winter asked them to take tea with her they accepted her invitation at once.

Jackie was now quite at home in Mrs. Winter's attic; but Bob had never been there before. They had their tea at the little round table near the window. It was a very frugal repast of bread not very thickly buttered, and weak tea; but both Bob and Jackie enjoyed it a great deal more than they had ever enjoyed a Sunday tea with Aunt Martha. Bob thought Mrs. Winter the nicest old woman he had ever known. He told her about their old home in the country, and talked to her of his father; then began to ask questions.

"Has your husband been dead long, Mrs. Winter?" he inquired.

"Nigh twenty years, my dear," she answered; "he was a sailor--a good, God-fearing man. His ship went down with all hands in a storm."

"Oh, then he was drowned!" Bob exclaimed, looking at her sympathetically. "Haven't you any children?" was his next question.

"I had one, a little boy; but when he was about the age of Jackie I had to part with him--God took him to Himself," Mrs. Winter replied. There was a look of pain on her face for a minute, then it gave place to a brighter look. "I'm fond of boys for my own boy's sake," she added smiling, "so you two will always find a welcome here whenever you may care to come."

That first Sunday tea in Mrs. Winter's attic was followed by others, and the friendship between the old woman and the brothers grew apace. Stray had taken a great liking to Bob; so Mrs. Winter was very glad to let Bob take him out sometimes, whilst the boy was delighted to have the dog for company when he was running errands for Aunt Martha.

One evening, at the end of August, Bob, who had been sent late to deliver a heavy load of potatoes at a house a long distance from Mrs. Mead's shop, was returning with his empty basket, accompanied by Stray, when he saw a crowd around the entrance of a big building which he knew to be a hospital for wounded soldiers, and paused to inquire what was doing.

"There's going to be a concert to-night for the patients," someone told him, "and a great lady is going to sing--people are waiting to see her."

"A great lady?" said Bob inquiringly. "Who?"

"Lady Margaret Browning," was the reply, "she's an earl's daughter. Her husband, Captain Browning, is in France where the fighting is."

"Oh, then he's a soldier!" Bob exclaimed, adding proudly, "So's my father!"

A young lady passing, leaning on the arm of an elderly gentleman, caught the ring of affectionate pride in Bob's voice, and looked back over her shoulder at the boy with a smile so full of goodwill and understanding that she won his heart completely. She was wearing a long, dark cloak, and a hood was pulled over her head, but the hem of a white silk gown showed under the cloak. Bob only noticed that she was young, and that her face, with its large grey eyes, was the sweetest he had ever seen. He watched her disappear, with her companion in the crowd, and was about to go on his way himself when he caught sight of something sparkling on the pavement not a yard from him, and picked it up. It proved to be a small brooch, shaped like a sword, the hilt of which was set with bright red stones. He moved under a lamp to examine it.

"Hulloa, youngster!" said a voice behind him at that moment, "what's that you've got there?"

It was a big boy called Tom Smith who had addressed him, whose father kept a pawnshop a few doors from Mrs. Mead's shop. Bob disliked Tom because he was a bully, but he was not afraid of him.

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