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twg_000012584600 | mean by that, Bob?" demanded Tim fiercely, as he sprang towards his companion. "Cain, if you please--or call me son, if you prefers it," cried Bob, as he ran out of his friend's way; "but don't be waxy, father Adam, with your own darlin' boy. I couldn't 'elp it. You'd ha' done just the same to me if you'd had | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584601 | the chance. Come, shake 'ands on it." Tim Lumpy was not the boy to cherish bad feeling. He grinned in a ghastly manner, and shook the extended hand. "I forgive you, Cain, but please go an' look for Abel an' pitch into _him_ w'en next you git into that state o' mind, for it's agin common-sense, as well as history, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584602 | to pitch into your old father so." Saying which, Tim went off to wring out his dripping garments, after which the fishing was resumed. "Wot a remarkable difference," said Bobby, breaking a rather long silence of expectancy, as he glanced round on the splendid landscape which was all aglow with the descending sun, "'twe... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584603 | or George Yard, or Ratcliff 'Ighway. Ain't it, Tim?" Before Tim could reply, Mr Merryboy came forward. "Capital!" he exclaimed, on catching sight of the fish; "well done, lads, well done. We shall have a glorious supper to-night. Now, Mumpy, you run home and tell mother to have the big frying-pan ready. She'll want you... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584604 | to the boys, as Martha ran off with her wonted alacrity, "I thought you'd soon teach yourselves how to catch fish. It's not difficult here. And what do you think of Martha, my boys?" "She's a trump!" said Bobby, with decision. "Fust rate!" said Tim, bestowing his highest conception of praise. "Quite true, lads; though ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584605 | instead of first-rate, Tim, is more than I can understand. However, you'll get cured of such-like queer pronunciations in course of time. Now, I want you to look on little Mumpy as your sister, and she's a good deal of your sister too in reality, for she came out of that same great nest of good and bad, rich and | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584606 | poor--London. Has she told you anything about herself yet?" "Nothin', sir," answered Bob, "'cept that when we axed--asked, I mean--I ax--ask your parding--she said she'd neither father nor mother." "Ah! poor thing; that's too true. Come, pick up your fish, and I'll tell you about her as we go along." The boys strung th... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584607 | and followed their new master home. "Martha came to us only last year," said the farmer. "She's a little older than she looks, having been somewhat stunted in her growth, by bad treatment, I suppose, and starvation and cold in her infancy. No one knows who was her father or mother. She was `found' in the streets one da... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584608 | about three years of age, by a man who took her home, and made use of her by sending her to sell matches in public-houses. Being small, very intelligent for her years, and attractively modest, she succeeded, I suppose, in her sales, and I doubt not the man would have continued to keep her, if he had not been taken | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584609 | ill and carried to hospital, where he died. Of course the man's lodging was given up the day he left it. As the man had been a misanthrope--that's a hater of everybody, lads--nobody cared anything about him, or made inquiry after him. The consequence was, that poor Martha was forgotten, strayed away into the streets, a... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584610 | time. She was picked up this time by a widow lady in very reduced circumstances, who questioned her closely; but all that the poor little creature knew was that she didn't know where her home was, that she had no father or mother, and that her name was Martha. "The widow took her home, made inquiries about her parentag... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584611 | vain, and then adopted and began to train her, which accounts for her having so little of that slang and knowledge of London low life that you have so much of, you rascals! The lady gave the child the pet surname of Mild, for it was so descriptive of her character. But poor Martha was not destined to have this | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584612 | mother very long. After a few years she died, leaving not a sixpence or a rag behind her worth having. Thus little Mumpy was thrown a third time on the world, but God found a protector for her in a friend of the widow, who sent her to the Refuge--the Beehive as you call it--which has been such a blessing | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584613 | to you, my lads, and to so many like you, and along with her the pounds required to pay her passage and outfit to Canada. They kept her for some time and trained her, and then, knowing that I wanted a little lass here, they sent her to me, for which I thank God, for she's a dear little child." | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584614 | The tone in which the last sentence was uttered told more than any words could have conveyed the feelings of the bluff farmer towards the little gem that had been dug out of the London mines and thus given to him. Reader, they are prolific mines, those East-end mines of London! If you doubt it, go, hear and see for | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584615 | yourself. Perhaps it were better advice to say, go and dig, or help the miners! Need it be said that our waifs and strays grew and flourished in that rich Canadian soil? It need not! One of the most curious consequences of the new connection was the powerful affection that sprang up between Bobby Frog and Mrs Merryboy,... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584616 | seemed as if that jovial old lady and our London waif had fallen in love with each other at first sight. Perhaps the fact that the lady was intensely appreciative of fun, and the young gentleman wonderfully full of the same, had something to do with it. Whatever the cause, these two were constantly flirting with each o... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584617 | often took the old lady out for little rambles in the wood behind the farm. There was a particular spot in the woods, near a waterfall, of which this curious couple were particularly fond, and to which they frequently resorted, and there, under the pleasant shade, with the roar of the fall for a symphony, Bob poured ou... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584618 | and fears, reminiscences and prospects into the willing ears of the little old lady, who was so very small that Bob seemed quite a big man by contrast. He had to roar almost as loud as the cataract to make her hear, but he was well rewarded. The old lady, it is true, did not speak much, perhaps because she | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584619 | understood little, but she expressed enough of sympathy, by means of nods, and winks with her brilliant black eyes, and smiles with her toothless mouth, to satisfy any boy of moderate expectations. And Bobby _was_ satisfied. So, also, were the other waifs and strays, not only with old granny, but with everything in and... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584620 | World. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. TREATS OF ALTERED CIRCUMSTANCES AND BLUE-RIBBONISM. Once again we return to the great city, and to Mrs Frog's poor lodging. But it is not poor now, for the woman has at last got riches and joy-- such riches as the ungodly care not for, and a joy that they cannot understand. It is not all rich... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584621 | and joy, however. The Master has told us that we shall have "much tribulation." What then? Are we worse off than the unbelievers? Do _they_ escape the tribulation? It is easy to prove that the Christian has the advantage of the worldling, for, while both have worries and tribulation without fail, the one has a little j... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584622 | much joy if you choose--which, however, will end with life, if not before; while the other has joy unspeakable and full of glory, which will increase with years, and end in absolute felicity! Let us look at Mrs Frog's room now, and listen to her as she sits on one side of a cheerful fire, sewing, while Hetty sits on | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584623 | the other side, similarly occupied, and Matty, _alias_ Mita, lies in her crib sound asleep. It is the same room, the same London atmosphere, which no moral influence will ever purify, and pretty much the same surroundings, for Mrs Frog's outward circumstances have not altered much in a worldly point of view. The neighb... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584624 | filthy and violent. One drunken nuisance has left the next room, but another almost as bad has taken his place. Nevertheless, although not altered much, things are decidedly improved in the poor pitiful dwelling. Whereas, in time past, it used to be dirty, now it is clean. The table is the same table, obviously, for yo... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584625 | across the top caused by Ned's great fist on that occasion when, failing rather in force of argument while laying down the law, he sought to emphasise his remarks with an effective blow; but a craftsman has been at work on the table, and it is no longer rickety. The chair, too, on which Mrs Frog sits, is the same | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584626 | identical chair which missed the head of Bobby Frog that time he and his father differed in opinion on some trifling matter, and smashed a panel of the door; but the chair has been to see the doctor, and its constitution is stronger now. The other chair, on which Hetty sits, is a distinct innovation. So is baby's crib.... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584627 | has replaced the heap of straw which formerly sufficed, and there are two low bedsteads in corners which once were empty. Besides all this there are numerous articles of varied shape and size glittering on the walls, such as sauce-pans and pot-lids, etcetera, which are made to do ornamental as well as useful duty, bein... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584628 | degree of brilliancy. Everywhere there is evidence of order and care, showing that the inmates of the room are somehow in better circumstances. Let it not be supposed that this has been accomplished by charity. Mrs Samuel Twitter is very charitable, undoubtedly. There can be no question as to that; but if she were a hu... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584629 | she is, and were to give away a hundred thousand times more money than she does give, she could not greatly diminish the vast poverty of London. Mrs Twitter had done what she could in this case, but that was little, in a money point of view, for there were others who had stronger claims upon her than Mrs Frog. | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584630 | But Mrs Twitter had put her little finger under Mrs Frog's chin when her lips were about to go under water, and so, figuratively, she kept her from drowning. Mrs Twitter had put out a hand when Mrs Frog tripped and was about to tumble, and thus kept her from falling. When Mrs Frog, weary of life, was on the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584631 | point of rushing once again to London Bridge, with a purpose, Mrs Twitter caught the skirt of her ragged robe with a firm but kindly grasp and held her back, thus saving her from destruction; but, best of all, when the poor woman, under the influence of the Spirit of God, ceased to strive with her Maker and cried out | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584632 | earnestly, "What must I do to be saved?" Mrs Twitter grasped her with both hands and dragged her with tender violence towards the Fold, but not quite into it. For Mrs Twitter was a wise, unselfish woman, as well as good. At a certain point she ceased to act, and said, "Mrs Frog, go to your own Hetty, and she | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584633 | will tell you what to do." And Mrs Frog went, and Hetty, with joyful surprise in her heart, and warm tears of gratitude in her eyes, pointed her to Jesus the Saviour of mankind. It was nothing new to the poor woman to be thus directed. It is nothing new to almost any one in a Christian land to be | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584634 | pointed to Christ; but it _is_ something new to many a one to have the eyes opened to see, and the will influenced to accept. It was so now with this poor, self-willed, and long-tried--or, rather, long-resisting--woman. The Spirit's time had come, and she was made willing. But now she had to face the difficulties of th... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584635 | killed, and now revived--began to act. "I must work," she said, internally, and conscience nodded approval. "I must drink less," she said, but conscience shook her head. "It will be very hard, you see," she continued, apologetically, "for a poor woman like me to get through a hard day without just _one_ glass of beer t... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584636 | all her work by looks alone. She was naturally dumb, but she had a grand majestic countenance with great expressive eyes, and at the mention of _one_ glass of beer she frowned so that poor Mrs Frog almost trembled. At this point Hetty stepped into the conversation. All unaware of what had been going on in her mother's ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584637 | said, suddenly, "Mother, I'm going to a meeting to-night; will you come?" Mrs Frog was quite willing. In fact she had fairly given in and become biddable like a little child,--though, after all, that interesting creature does not always, or necessarily, convey the most perfect idea of obedience! It was a rough meeting,... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584638 | but ungilded hall in Whitechapel. The people were listening intently to a powerful speaker. The theme was strong drink. There were opponents and sympathisers there. "It is the greatest curse, I think, in London," said the speaker, as Hetty and her mother entered. "Bah!" exclaimed a powerful man beside whom they chanced... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584639 | an' don't find it no curse, at all." "Silence," cried some in the audience. "I tell 'ee it's all barn wot 'e's talkin'," said the powerful man. "Put 'im out," cried some of the audience. But the powerful man had a powerful look, and a great bristly jaw, and a fierce pair of eyes which had often been blackened, and | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584640 | still bore the hues of the last fight; no one, therefore, attempted to put him out, so he snapped his fingers at the entire meeting, said, "Bah!" again, with a look of contempt, and relapsed into silence, while the speaker, heedless of the slight interruption, went on. "Why, it's a Blue Ribbon meeting, Hetty," whispere... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584641 | Hetty in reply, "that's one of its names, but its real title, I heard one gentleman say, is the Gospel-Temperance Association, you see, they're very anxious to put the gospel first and temperance second; temperance bein' only one of the fruits of the gospel of Jesus." The speaker went on in eloquent strains pleading th... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584642 | sympathies of his hearers, then appealing to their reason; sometimes relating incidents of deepest pathos, at other times convulsing the audience with touches of the broadest humour, insomuch that the man who said "bah!" modified his objections to "pooh!" and ere long came to that turning-point where silence is consent... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584643 | the speaker to a man-- not such a bad fellow too, when sober--who, under the influence of drink, had thrown his big shoe at his wife's head and cut it so badly that she was even then--while he was addressing them--lying in hospital hovering between life and death. "That's me!" cried the powerful man, jumping up in a st... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584644 | great excitement mingled with indignation, while he towered head and shoulders above the audience, "though how _you_ come for to 'ear on't beats me holler. An' it shows 'ow lies git about, for she's _not_ gone to the hospital, an' it wasn't shoes at all, but boots I flung at 'er, an' they only just grazed 'er, thank go... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584645 | sent the cat flyin' through the winder. So--" A burst of laughter with mingled applause and cheers cut off the end of the sentence and caused the powerful man to sit down in much confusion, quite puzzled what to think of it all. "My friend," said the speaker, when order had been restored, "you are mistaken. I did not r... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584646 | to you at all, never having seen or heard of you before, but there are too many men like you--men who would be good men and true if they would only come to the Saviour, who would soon convince them that it is wise to give up the drink and put on the blue ribbon. Let it not be supposed, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584647 | my friends, that I say it is the _duty_ of every one to put on the blue ribbon and become a total abstainer. There are circumstances in which a `little wine' may be advisable. Why, the apostle Paul himself, when Timothy's stomach got into a chronic state of disease which subjected him, apparently, to `frequent infirmit... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584648 | a `little wine,' but he didn't advise him to take many quarts of beer, or numerous glasses of brandy and water, or oceans of Old Tom, or to get daily fuddled on the poisons which are sold by many publicans under these names. Still less did Paul advise poor dyspeptic Timothy to become his own medical man and prescribe a... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584649 | these medicines to himself, whenever he felt inclined for them. Yes, there are the old and the feeble and the diseased, who may, (observe I don't say who _do_, for I am not a doctor, but who _may_), require stimulants under medical advice. To these we do not speak, and to these we would not grudge the small alleviation... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584650 | their sad case which may be found in stimulants; but to the young and strong and healthy we are surely entitled to say, to plead, and to entreat--put on the blue ribbon if you see your way to it. And by the young we mean not only all boys and girls, but all men and women in the prime of | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584651 | life, ay, and beyond the prime, if in good health. Surely you will all admit that the young require no stimulants. Are they not superabounding in energy? Do they not require the very opposite--sedatives, and do they not find these in constant and violent muscular exercise?" With many similar and other arguments did the... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584652 | of human beings before him, taking advantage of every idea that cropped up and every incident in the meeting that occurred to enforce his advice--namely, total abstinence for the young and the healthy-- until he had stirred them up to a state of considerable enthusiasm. Then he said:-- "I am glad to see you enthusiasti... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584653 | without enthusiasm. You may potter along the even tenor of your way without it, but you'll never come to much good, and you'll never accomplish great things, without it. What is enthusiasm? Is it not seeing the length, breadth, height, depth, and bearing of a good thing, and being zealously affected in helping to bring... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584654 | kinds of enthusiasts, though but one quality of enthusiasm. Weak people show their enthusiasm too much on the surface. Powerful folk keep it too deep in their hearts to be seen at all. What then, are we to scout it in the impulsive because too obvious; to undervalue it in the reticent because almost invisible? Nay, let... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584655 | for it in any form, for the _thing_ is good, though the individual's manner of displaying it may be faulty. Let us hope that the too gushing may learn to clap on the breaks a little--a very little; but far more let us pray that the reticent and the self-possessed, and the oh!--dear--no--you'll--never-- catch--me--doing... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584656 | up more steam. Better far in my estimation the wild enthusiast than the self-possessed and self-sufficient cynic. Just look at your gentlemanly cynic; good-natured very likely, for he's mightily pleased with himself and excessively wise in regard to all things sublunary. Why, even he has enthusiasm, though not always i... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584657 | while he sees the sleek and beautiful creatures straining every muscle, and his own favourite drawing ahead, inch by inch, until it bids fair to win. Is _that_ our cynic, bending forward on his steed, with gleaming eyes and glowing cheek, and partly open mouth and quick-coming breath, and so forgetful of himself that h... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584658 | gives vent to a lusty cheer as the favourite passes the winning-post? "But follow him still further. Don't let him go. Hold on to his horse's tail till we see him safe into his club, and wait there till he has dined and gone to the opera. There he sits, immaculate in dress and bearing, in the stalls. It is | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584659 | a huge audience. A great star is to appear. The star comes on--music such as might cause the very angels to bend and listen. "The sweet singer exerts herself; her rich voice swells in volume and sweeps round the hall, filling every ear and thrilling every heart, until, unable to restrain themselves, the vast concourse ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584660 | waving scarf and kerchief, thunders forth applause! And what of our cynic? There he is, the wildest of the wild--for he happens to love music--shouting like a maniac and waving his hat, regardless of the fact that he has broken the brim, and that the old gentleman whose corns he has trodden on frowns at him with savage... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584661 | continued the speaker, "the whole world is enthusiastic when the key-note of each individual, or class of individuals, is struck; and shall _we_ be ashamed of our enthusiasm for this little bit of heavenly blue, which symbolises the great fact that those who wear it are racing with the demon Drink to save men and women... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584662 | his clutches; racing with Despair to place Hope before the eyes of those who are blindly rushing to destruction; racing with Time to snatch the young out of the way of the Destroyer before he lays hand on them; and singing--ay, shouting--songs of triumph and glory to God because of the tens of thousands of souls and bo... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584663 | because of the bright prospect of the tens of thousands more to follow; because of the innumerable voices added to the celestial choir, and the glad assurance that the hymns of praise thus begun shall not die out with our feeble frames, but will grow stronger in sweetness as they diminish in volume, until, the river cr... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584664 | forth again with indescribable intensity in the New Song. "Some people tell us that these things are not true. Others say they won't last. My friends, I know, and many of you know, that they _are_ true, and even if they were _not_ to last, have we not even now ground for praise? Shall we not rejoice that the lifeboat | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584665 | has saved some, because others have refused to embark and perished? But we don't admit that these things won't last. Very likely, in the apostolic days, some of the unbelievers said of them and their creed, `How long will it last?' If these objectors be now able to take note of the world's doings, they have their answe... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584666 | Time himself; for does he not say, `Christianity has lasted nearly nineteen hundred years, and is the strongest moral motive-power in the world to-day?' The Blue Ribbon, my friends, or what it represents, is founded on Christianity; therefore the principles which it represents are sure to stand. Who will come now and p... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584667 | voice from among the audience, and up rose the powerful man who began the evening with "bah!" and "pooh!" He soon made his way to the platform amid uproarious cheering, and donned the blue. "Hetty," whispered Mrs Frog in a low, timid voice, "I think I would like to put it on too." If the voice had been much lower | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584668 | and more timid, Hetty would have heard it, for she sat there watching for her mother as one might watch for a parent in the crisis of a dread disease. She knew that no power on earth can change the will, and she had waited and prayed till the arrow was sent home by the hand of God. "Come along, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584669 | mother," she said--but said no more, for her heart was too full. Mrs Frog was led to the platform, to which multitudes of men, women, and children were pressing, and the little badge was pinned to her breast. Thus did that poor woman begin her Christian course with the fruit of self-denial. She then set about the work ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584670 | her house in order. It was up-hill work at first, and very hard, but the promise did not fail her, "Lo! I am with you alway." In all her walk she found Hetty a guardian angel. "I must work, Hetty, dear," she said, "for it will never do to make you support us all; but what am I to do | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584671 | with baby? There is no one to take charge of her when I go out." "I am quite able to keep the whole of us, mother, seeing that I get such good pay from the lady I work for, but as you want to work, I can easily manage for baby. You know I've often wished to speak of the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584672 | Infant Nursery in George Yard. Before you sent Matty away I wanted you to send her there, but--" Hetty paused. "Go on, dear. I was mad agin' you an' your religious ways; wasn't that it?" said Mrs Frog. "Well, mother, it don't matter now, thank God. The Infant Nursery, you know, is a part of the Institution there. The h... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584673 | of the people who manage it were touched by the death of so many thousands of little ones every year in London through want and neglect, so they set up this nursery to enable poor widowed mothers and others to send their babies to be cared for--nursed, fed, and amused in nice airy rooms--while the mothers are at work. ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584674 | charge only fourpence a day for this, and each baby has its own bag of clothing, brush and comb, towel and cot. They will keep Matty from half-past seven in the morning till eight at night for you, so that will give you plenty of time to work, won't it, mother?" "It will indeed, Hetty, and all for fourpence a | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584675 | day, say you?" "Yes, the ordinary charge is fourpence, but widows get it for twopence for each child, and, perhaps, they may regard a deserted wife as a widow! There is a fine of twopence per hour for any child not taken away after eight, so you'll have to be up to time, mother." Mrs Frog acted on this advice, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584676 | and thus was enabled to earn a sufficiency to enable her to pay her daily rent, to clothe and feed herself and child, to give a little to the various missions undertaken by the Institutions near her, to put a little now and then into the farthing bank, and even to give a little in charity to the poor! Now, | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584677 | reader, you may have forgotten it, but if you turn back to near the beginning of this chapter, you will perceive that all we have been writing about is a huge digression, for which we refuse to make the usual apology. We return again to Mrs Frog where we left her, sitting beside her cheerful fire, sewing and conversing... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584678 | Hetty. "I can't bear to think of 'im, Hetty," said Mrs Frog. "You an' me sittin' here so comfortable, with as much to eat as we want, an' to spare, while your poor father is in a cold cell. He's bin pretty bad to me of late, it's true, wi' that drink, but he wasn't always like that, Hetty; even | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584679 | you can remember him before he took to the drink." "Yes, mother, I can, and, bless the Lord, he may yet be better than he ever was. When is his time up?" "This day three weeks. The twelve months will be out then. We must pray for 'im, Hetty." "Yes, mother. I am always prayin' for him. You know that." | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584680 | There was a touch of anxiety in the tones and faces of both mother and daughter as they talked of the father, for his home-coming might, perhaps, nay probably would, be attended with serious consequences to the renovated household. They soon changed the subject to one more agreeable. "Isn't Bobby's letter a nice one, m... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584681 | written, though the spellin' might have been better; but then he's had so little schoolin'." "It just makes my heart sing," returned Mrs Frog. "Read it again to me, Hetty. I'll never tire o' hearin' it. I only wish it was longer." The poor mother's wish was not unnatural, for the letter which Bobby had written was not ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584682 | tax the reader's patience, and, as Hetty hinted, there was room for improvement, not only in the spelling but in the writing. Nevertheless, it had carried great joy to the mother's heart. We shall therefore give it _verbatim et literatim_. Brankly Farm--Kanada. "Deer Mutrer. wen i left you i promisd to rite so heer gos... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584683 | arth. so pritty an grand. O you never did see the likes. ide park is nuffin to it, an as for Kensintn gardings--wy to kompair thems rediklis. theres sitch a nice little gal here. shes wun of deer mis mukfersons gals--wot the vestenders calls a wafe and sometimes a strai. were all very fond of er spesially tim lumpy. i | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584684 | shuvd im in the river wun dai. my--ow e spluterd. but e was non the wus--all the better, mister an mistress meryboi aint that a joly naim are as good as gold to us. we as prairs nite and mornin an no end o witls an as appy as kings and kueens a-sitin on there throns. give all our luv | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584685 | to deer father, an etty an baiby an mis mukferson an mister olland an all our deer teechers. sai we'll never forgit wot they told us. your deer sun Bobby." "Isn't it beautiful?" said Mrs Frog, wiping away a tear with the sock she was darning in preparation for her husband's return. "Yes, mother. Bless the people that s... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584686 | out to Canada," said Hetty, "for he would never have got on here." There came a tap to the door as she spoke, and Mrs Twitter, entering, was received with a hearty welcome. "I came, Mrs Frog," she said, accepting the chair--for there was even a third chair--which Hetty placed for her, "to ask when your husband will be ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584687 | again." Good Mrs Twitter carefully avoided the risk of hurting the poor woman's feelings by needless reference to jail. "I expect him this day three weeks, ma'am," replied Mrs Frog. "That will do nicely," returned Mrs Twitter. "You see, my husband knows a gentleman who takes great pleasure in getting con--in getting me... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584688 | giving them a chance of--of getting on in life, you understand?" "_Yes_, ma'am, we must all try to git on in life if we would keep in life," said Mrs Frog, sadly. "Well, there is a situation open just now, which the gentleman--the same gentleman who was so kind in helping us after the fire; you see we all need | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584689 | help of one another, Mrs Frog--which the gentleman said he could keep open for a month, but not longer, so, as I happened to be passing your house to-night on my way to the Yard, to the mothers' meeting, I thought I'd just look in and tell you, and ask you to be sure and send Ned to me the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584690 | moment he comes home." "I will, ma'am, and God bless you for thinkin' of us so much." "Remember, now," said Mrs Twitter, impressively, "_before_ he has time to meet any of his old comrades. Tell him if he comes straight to me he will hear something that will please him very much. I won't tell you what. That is my | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584691 | message to him. And now, how is my Mita? Oh! I need not ask. There she lies like a little angel!" (Mrs Twitter rose and went to the crib, but did not disturb the little sleeper.) "I wish I saw roses on her little cheeks and more fat, Mrs Frog." Mrs Frog admitted that there was possible improvement in the | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584692 | direction of roses and fat, but feared that the air, (it would have been more correct to have said the smoke and smells), of the court went against roses and fat, somehow. She was thankful, however, to the good Lord for the health they all enjoyed in spite of local disadvantages. "Ah!" sighed Mrs Twitter, "if we could ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584693 | you all to Canada--" "Oh! ma'am," exclaimed Mrs Frog, brightening up suddenly, "we've had _such_ a nice letter from our Bobby. Let her see it, Hetty." "Yes, and so nicely written, too," remarked Hetty, with a beaming face, as she handed Bobby's production to the visitor, "though he doesn't quite understand yet the need... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584694 | so long as he sends you capital letters," returned Mrs Twitter, perpetrating the first pun she had been guilty of since she was a baby; "and, truly, this is a charming letter, though short." "Yes, it's rather short, but it might have been shorter," said Mrs Frog, indulging in a truism. Mrs Twitter was already late for ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584695 | but she felt at once that it would be better to be still later than to disappoint Mrs Frog of a little sympathy in a matter which touched her feelings so deeply. She sat down, therefore, and read the letter over, slowly, commenting on it as she went along in a pleasant sort of way, which impressed the anxious mother | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584696 | with, not quite the belief, but the sensation that Bobby was the most hopeful immigrant which Canada had received since it was discovered. "Now, mind, send Ned up _at once_," said the amiable lady when about to quit the little room. "Yes, Mrs Twitter, I will; good-night." CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. NED FROG'S EXPERIENCES AND ... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584697 | with strong drink combined, rendered fruitless all the efforts that were put forth in his behalf at that time. When discharged with a lot of other jail-birds, none of whom, however, he knew, he sauntered leisurely homeward, wondering whether his wife was alive, and, if so, in what condition he should find her. It may h... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584698 | were struggling in his breast for ascendency, because he sighed deeply once or twice, which was not a usual mode with Ned of expressing his feelings. A growl was more common and more natural, considering his character. Drawing nearer and nearer to his old haunts, yet taking a roundabout road, as the moth is drawn to th... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
twg_000012584699 | water descends to its level, he went slowly on, having little hope of comfort in his home, and not knowing very well what to do. As he passed down one of the less frequented streets leading into Whitechapel, he was arrested by the sight of a purse lying on the pavement. To become suddenly alive, pick it up, glance stea... | 60 | gutenberg | unknown |
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