'Now, Miss Sibyl, why did you go and tell that "Red Riding-hood" toBaby? You know it always makes him cry, the soft-hearted darling!'
'Well, he ought to learn not to be so silly. I won't amuse the littleones again, nurse, if you want me to spoil them!' said Sibyl, withdignity.
'I do think you might make the story end nicely, any way,' grumblednurse, hushing Baby, who was crying lustily.
'I can't make it end well, nurse. It would not be true to say she wassaved, because she wasn't--she was _eaten_!'
This was Sibyl's parting shot as she ran out of the nursery.
'Never you mind what she says, my lambie; there are no wolves here atall, and Red Riding-hood was not killed. There, stop crying, my beauty,and you shall come and help me sort the linen in the next room. No, notyou, Miss Jean; one is enough to worrit; you just stay here tilltea-time, like a good girl.'
So nurse went away with Baby, leaving little seven-year-old Jean alonein the great nursery.
The gas was not yet lit, and the familiar room looked strange andmysterious in the dim, uncertain light of the fire. The corners wereshrouded in gloom, and the dancing flames threw huge, flickering shadowsupon the walls.
Jean drew her stool nearer the fire and shivered, but not with cold. Shewas a very nervous child, with a horror of the dark. She could notexplain, even to herself, exactly what it was she feared; it was a kindof nameless something, but the form it sometimes took was 'wolves.' Sheknew there were no wolves in this country, she knew there was nothing tohurt her--yet she was afraid. The child was often laughed at, and wasmuch ashamed of her fears, and no one knew what she suffered at times.
Oh, the fright that story of Red Riding-hood gave her! In vain shetried to think of something else; it came back again and again, and sheshivered with sympathetic terror as she pictured to herself RedRiding-hood's walk through the wood, and the horror she must have feltwhen her grandmother turned out to be a wolf! Half of her knew that itwas only a fairy tale, and all nonsense, but the other half argued thatSibyl said it was true, and Sibyl always spoke the truth. Nurse said itwas not true, but then she only said that to soothe Baby.
So poor little Jean sat quaking with fear, starting at every sound,fancying that she saw things move, and feeling that she must look behindher, and yet dared not.
But at last tea was brought in; nurse and Baby returned, the gas waslit, and Jean forgot her fears, for a time, in bread and jam.
The next day was Christmas Eve, and there was a great deal of fun goingon at the Vicarage. The Merivals were a large family, and every one hadsecrets from every one else, and wonderful plans for the morrow. Mr.Merival always gave a packet of tea and sugar to some of the old womenin the village on Christmas Eve, and all of these had been to theVicarage that morning to fetch it, except one. She was a poor old body,who lived about a mile away, at the end of a wood, and was often too illwith rheumatism to venture out of doors.
'Sibyl,' said Mr. Merival, meeting her in the hall as he went to put onhis greatcoat,--'Sibyl, I want you to take Grannie Dawson her tea thisafternoon. Take it before dark.'
'All right, father; I'll do it when'--and Sibyl's voice was lost in thedistance as she bounded out of doors.
'Little giddy-pate!' ejaculated her father; then, turning to Jean, hesaid,--
'See that some one takes that tea to poor old Grannie, little one. Iwould not have her feel neglected for anything.'
So saying, he departed, leaving the little girl in the hall.
Jean waited long and patiently, but no one came. Every one was eitherbusy or not to be found. Mother and the elder girls were decorating thechurch, the maids were busy, and Sibyl and the three boys were off onsome important business of their own.
As time went on, Jean became more and more convinced that, as usual,thoughtless Sibyl had forgotten everything but what she was doing atthat moment. It was past three, it would soon be dark, and GrannieDawson's tea--what was to be done? Father would be vexed with Sibyl ifshe forgot to take it, and no one would like merry Sibyl to be indisgrace on Christmas Eve. Could she go herself? Oh no; father nevermeant _her_ to go. Besides, it was getting dark, and the way was througha wood. Wolves! Horrible thought! And yet poor old Grannie Dawson wasso ill, so lonely.
'Sibyl! Sibyl!'
No answer.
Little Jean sat some time longer struggling with herself. Then shestarted up, slipped on her little warm red cloak, and, taking the basketwith the tea and sugar, walked resolutely out of the house, down thegarden, and along the road.
The weather was cold--not real nice Christmas cold, but damp and raw,and the roads were wet and sloppy with half-melted snow.
Jean's heart beat fast, and she drew her cloak tightly round her as sheneared the wood. The sky was overcast, and the wind blew in fitfulgusts in her face, and sobbed and sighed in the pine trees on eitherside. It really was very dark in the wood. The waving branches madethe shadows move in a weird manner, and there was no saying what evilbeast might not lurk behind those misty bushes, ready to pounce out onthe unwary passer-by.
'SHE DREW HER CLOAK TIGHTLY ROUND HER.']
The child thought many times of turning back, but then she rememberedthe poor old woman, and pressed on. Her teeth chattered, and shegrasped her basket convulsively, glancing on either side with wide-open,terrified eyes. Oh, why had she come? Surely that was a wolf'showl--and behind her, so that she could not turn back!
Very quietly she crept along till she came in sight of the littlethatched cottage where Grannie lived. Then she gathered herselftogether, ready to set off running.
But what was that noise?--it was not fancy. That huge form boundingtowards her--a wolf!
With a wild scream of terror, little Jean fled towards the cottage, thewolf after her. Nearer and nearer it came, but fear lent wings to thechild's feet, and she just reached the door in time to burst in and slamit in the wolf's face. Then she threw herself on the floor and burstinto a fit of frightened crying.
'Oh, the wolf! the wolf!' she sobbed, as old Grannie tried to sootheher. 'Listen, it is at the door.'
And sure enough the old woman heard it whining and scratching outside,and then came the sound of a man's voice.
Leaving Jean in the next room, Grannie Dawson opened the door, and inwalked--Farmer Martin and his big collie! So big and shaggy was thatcollie-dog, and yet so very quiet and gentle, that no child, even timidlittle Jean, could be afraid of him. The Merivals knew him well, andused often to pet and tease him when they went to the farm to see Mrs.Martin, and the farmer had now called at Grannie Dawson's cottage to askwhose child it was who seemed so afraid of his dog.
So the wolf was only dear old Cheviot, who had recognised Jean, andwanted to be patted. Oh, how relieved she was, and how much ashamed ofherself!
When Jean had recovered herself a little, kind Farmer Martin carried herhome in his arms, Cheviot trotting on before, wagging his tail andlooking over his shoulder at her, as if to apologise for frightening herso.
It was quite dark when they reached the Vicarage, and some of the familyhad come home, and were wondering where Jean could be. The farmer toldher story, and, to her surprise, she was petted and made much of by all.
But she had had a serious fright; her nerves were shaken, and she wasnot at all well for some days. The Merival children began to see thatwhat they had laughed at as 'Jean's nonsense' was very real to her.They left off teasing and laughing at her, and encouraged her instead,for each of them wondered, in their heart of hearts, if they themselvescould have shown such true courage as little Jean showed when she didwhat she was so much afraid of because she thought it right.
Jean was always nervous, but she left off being afraid of 'wolves,' foreach time she heard her new pet name of Red Riding-hood she rememberedwhat that terrible wolf had turned out to be.
tailpiece to A New Red Riding-hood]
headpiece to Lilla's Doll Show]
*Lilla's Doll Show.*
/> Lilla had more dolls than she knew what to do with.
Some were sitting in chairs, some lying in cradles, and one was seatedin a perambulator.
'I have more dolls than any other little girl has,' said she, as sheheld three in her arms. 'I have been counting them, and I have fifteenlarge dolls, and ten small ones, and twelve very small ones, and thenthere are the little china dolls in the bath and in the china cradles.To think of one little girl having so many dolls, mother! Sometimes Ithink I have too many. And there is no one but myself to play withthem. I wish I knew what to do with them all.'
'SHE HELD THREE IN HER ARMS.']
Mrs. Lee stroked Lilla's curly hair.
'Well, said Mrs. Lee, 'there are some very good little girls at theschool in the village, and I am sure it would be a great treat to themto see all your dolls. And I want to give them a treat, so I will askthem to come here, and you shall arrange all your dolls and playthingsin the nursery for them to look at. Don't you think that will be a verygood plan?'
Lilla clapped her hands.
'Oh, how very nice that would be!'
And she and her mother dressed the dolls in their best clothes, andplaced them all round the nursery.
'How pretty they look!' said Lilla; 'I think the little girls will likethem. And may I give them some dolls to take home?'
'You may do as you please,' said Mrs. Lee, 'for they are your owndolls.'
So the little girls came--six of them; and they all said, 'Oh!'
'What a lot of dolls!' said one little girl; 'more dolls than there areat the shop.'
After the show Mrs. Lee gave the children some tea and plumcake; andthen Lilla handed each of them a doll.
How pleased were the six little girls when they found they were each tohave a doll! And all of them said that Miss Lilla's doll show was thebest treat they had ever had.
headpiece to Selina and her Doll.]
*Selina and her Doll.*
'I should like to have a large wax doll of my own,' said Selina; 'largeenough for me to make clothes for, with buttons and strings, to fastenand unfasten: I should play with it all day, and undress it at night,and put it in a cradle. It should have eyes to open and shut, and Ishould shut them at night, and then it would seem to be asleep. Hownice it would be!'
Selina was sitting in the garden talking to herself, and did not thinkthat any one heard her; but her mother had come into the garden andheard what her little girl was saying.
'SELINA WAS SITTING IN THE GARDEN.']
'You have two or three dolls, Selina,' said she.
'Yes, mother, but they are small ones, and I want a very large one. Andmy dolls have brown hair and black eyes, and I want a doll with blueeyes and light hair, and one that can open and shut its eyes, likeCousin Bella's.'
And Selina looked up at her mother.
'Mother, will you buy one for me?'
'I am afraid that I cannot buy one for you. I have not so much money asyour Aunt Sarah has to spend upon dolls and playthings.'
Selina was silent for a moment, then she said,--
'Yes, I know that. Mother, I do not care about the large doll. I willmake some new clothes for my small ones, and try to think that they arelarge.'
'That is a good child,' said her mother; 'and perhaps some day I shallbe able to get a larger one for you.'
So Selina tried to think no more of her Cousin Bella's large doll, andher mother gave her a piece of muslin to make a frock for one of her owndolls, and some blue ribbon for a sash.
Selina sewed away merrily, and she and her mother talked over a letterthat had come from her father, who was in France, and who said he hopedto be home again in a day or two.
'And tell Selina that I have got a box for her, with a present inside.'
'I wonder what it is?' said Selina.
She had not long to wait, for two days after they had had the letter,her father came. They were very glad to see him, and he was very gladto see them. And for a little time Selina forgot all he had said about apresent. But her father said,---
'Well, Selina, you have not asked about your present.'
'Oh dear no! I had quite forgotten,' said Selina. 'What is it?'
'That you must find out,' said her father.
So Selina had the box opened.
'Oh, mother, mother! look, look! It is the most beautiful doll I haveever seen--more beautiful than Cousin Bella's, and it has light hair andblue eyes, and is as large as a baby.'
'I bought it in Paris,' said her father. 'They make very wonderfuldolls there--dolls that can speak; and this doll that I have bought formy little Selina can say "Mamma" and "Papa."'
How pleased was Selina with her doll! Her father showed her how topress the doll to make it speak, and all Selina's little friends came tosee the wonderful French doll that could say 'Mamma' and 'Papa.'
tailpiece to Selina and her Doll]
* * * * * * * *
_A NEW BOOK FOR GIRLS_
*MOLLY*
*A. C. HERTFORD*
EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER
Molly]
_A NEW BOOK FOR GIRLS AND BOYS_
*COMRADES TRUE*
*By ELLINOR DAVENPORT ADAMS*
*ILLUSTRATIONS BY EDITH SCANNELL*
EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER
Comrades True]
*LIST OF BOOKS IN THIS SERIES*
Adventures of King CloA Princess in DisguiseA Stranger in the TeaThe King's CounsellorPoor Cock RobinNellie at the CaveThe House that Jack BuiltFighting a Goose, and other StoriesKitty's PicnicCharley's PussiesThe Girl without ShoesAillie's PrayerThe RescueThe Lieutenant's DaughtersThe German PastorDick EnnisHow to be BeautifulLittle HenryThe Little WoodmanClive's ConquestDaring DotMinnie Fenian's Wrong-doingFanny GardenHenry and ElizaSing a Song of SixpenceMary, Mary, quite ContraryWhere the Sky FallsThe Highland ChairmanLittle PatienceMary GrantMary and Archie GrahamThe Military BlacksmithFanny's Old FrockThe First Christmas Tree
EDINBURGH & LONDON OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER _And all Booksellers_
MORRISON AND GIBB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
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