Tell Me a Story

will be _my_ turn to say it's too bad!--will itnot?"

  "Yes," said Judy, laughing. "Thank you so much, kind fairy. Won't youcome and see me again sometimes?"

  But the last words were spoken to the air, for while Judy was utteringthem the old woman had disappeared, and only the little field-mouseagain, with bright sparkling eyes, ran across the path, looking upfearlessly at Judy as it passed her.

  And Judy never did see the old woman again. She went back to thecottage, bearing bravely the pain of her wounded foot, which was not sovery bad after all, and the discomfort of her wet clothes.

  And though Betsy's mother scolded her for having been so slow about hererrand, she did not grumble or complain, but did her best to help thepoor woman with the evening's work. All the same, I can tell you, shewas _very_ glad to get to bed at night, and you may be sure she did notforget to take a great big bite of her apple.

  "When I am myself again, I'll spend the six shillings I have in mymoney-box to buy Betsy a nice new print frock instead of that ugly oldone that got so soaked to-day," was her last thought before she fellasleep.

  And oh! my dears, _can_ you imagine how delightful it was to findherself in the morning, her real own self again? She felt it was almost_too good_ to be true. And, since then, it has been seldom if ever,that Miss Judy has been heard to grumble, or that anything has beendeclared to be "too bad."

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  CHARLIE'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

  "O sweet and blessed country That eager hearts expect."

  One cold winter's evening about Christmas time, Charlie, a little boy ofsix years old, sat reading with his mother. It was Sunday evening, andhe had been looking at the pictures in his "Children's Bible," till hismother put down her own book and began to read verses to him out of his_real_ Bible, in explanation of some of the pictures. With one of theseespecially, Charlie was very much pleased. It represented a great manypeople, men and women and children, and animals of every kind, alltogether, looking very peaceful and happy in a beautiful garden.Charlie could not pronounce the word at the foot of the picture; it wasso very long.

  "The--what is it, mother?" he asked.

  "The Millennium," his mother told him, and then she went on to explainwhat this long word meant, and read him some strange, beautiful versesabout it, out of the big Bible. Charlie sat with his blue eyes fixed onher, listening to every word, and thinking this the most wonderful storyhe had ever heard yet. "And it is not like a fairy story, is it mother,for it is in the Bible? Oh, I do so wish God would let the millenniumcome now--immediately--mother, while I am a little boy, and you, justlike what you are! I should not care nearly so much for it if you wereold, mother, or if I was a big man."

  "I hope, my darling, the bigger you get the _more_ you will care forit," said his mother. Charlie looked puzzled, but seeing that he wasthinking so deeply, that she feared he would think away his sleep (as hesometimes did, and it was nearly bed-time), she went to the piano andsang his favourite hymn--

  "Jerusalem the golden, With milk and honey blest."

  Charlie listened with delight; and when it was over went and kissed hismother for good-night, and trotted off to bed, his mind full of thewords he had been hearing.

  It felt cold at first, in his little crib, and he began thinking hownice it would be if the summer were back again. But he soon fellasleep. It seemed to him that he woke almost in a minute, and he feltsurprised to see that there was already broad daylight in the room.Indeed, he felt exceedingly surprised, for these dark winter mornings healways woke before dawn, and now the sun was shining brightly, as if ithad been at work for some hours. It looked so pleasant and cheerfulthat he lay still to enjoy it. Now I must tell you that Charlie had ababy brother, and that both these little boys were taken care of by agood old woman who had been nurse to their mother when she was a littlegirl. Nurse was very good and kind and true, but I must say thatsometimes she was very cross. Perhaps it was that she was getting old,and that little boys teased her, not being always able to remember aboutbeing gentle and good: that is to say, Charlie himself, for the baby wasreally too little either to remember or forget. Nurse's worst time wasfirst thing in the morning; she nearly always had a cross face on whenshe came to wake Charlie, and to tell him to get up. He once heard someof the servants saying that nurse very often got out of the wrong sideof her bed; and that day he vexed her very much without knowing why,for, after thinking a long time about what it could mean, he went allround her bed to see if there could be any nails or sharp pieces of woodsticking out at one side, which perhaps hurt her feet as she steppedout. Nurse came in while he was examining her bed, and when he told herwhat he was doing, and what he had heard Anne say, she was really veryangry indeed, though he could not see that he had done anything naughty.

  But this morning I am telling you about that Charlie lay in bed thinkinghow pretty the sunlight was, he was quite surprised to see nurse's facewhen she came to the bedside to wake him. She spoke so sweetly, andreally looked quite pretty. Her face had such a nice smile and lookedso kind, and nearly all the wrinkles were gone.

  "Dear nurse," he said, "how nice you look!" This seemed to please herstill more, for she kissed him, and then washed and dressed him, withoutonce pulling or pushing him the least little bit; just as if she hadnever felt cross in her life.

  When he was dressed he ran out into the garden, and, to his surprise, itwas quite changed from the night before. The grass was bright andgreen, the trees were all covered with leaves, and the whole garden wasfull of the loveliest flowers he had ever seen; and the singing of thebirds was prettier than he could possibly describe. There were manybutterflies and other summer insects flying about, and making adelicious sort of sweet humming, which seemed to join in with the birds'singing. Indeed Charlie could almost have believed the flowersthemselves were singing, for a lovely music filled the whole air, andall the musicians, even the grasshoppers, kept in tune together in awonderful way. The song sounded to Charlie very like "Jerusalem theGolden," only there were no words. He ran about the garden so much,that at last he thought he would like a drink of new milk, and he wentinto the yard to look for the dairy-maid. There was no one there; buthe forgot all about the milk, in astonishment at what he saw. "Tiger,"the great fierce watch dog, whom his papa would never let him go near,was unchained, lying peacefully on his back in the sun, and Charlie'stwo lovely kittens rolling over and over him, Tiger patting them gentlywith his paws, and looking so pleased that Charlie almost thought he wassmiling. And more wonderful still, his mother's pet canaries were alsoloose in the yard, one hopping about close to Tiger's nose, and theother actually perched on the back of Muff, the tabby cat, whom, all herlife, his mother had never succeeded in curing of her sad love of eatingcanary birds. Charlie's first thought was to drive away Muff and rescuethe birds; but as he ran forward to do so, Muff came and rubbed herselfgently against him with a soft, sweet purr, and the canary flew offMuff's back on to his shoulder, where it gave a little trill ofpleasure, and then flew back again to its friend the cat. Suddenly somewords flashed into Charlie's mind: "They shall neither hurt nordestroy," he said slowly, and then it all seemed plain to him. "TheMillennium has come," he cried, with inexpressible joy, "Oh! how glad Iam; I must run and tell mother this minute," and off he set. But as heran towards the house, glancing up, thoughtful for others as was hishabit, to the window of his mother's room, he saw that the blind wasstill drawn down, and remembered that he must not disturb her yet,though his little heart was bursting with impatience to tell her thebeautiful news. "I might, any way, run and tell Lily at once," thoughthe, and he set off at full speed towards the farm where his littlefriend lived. But he had not gone half way when he recollected that toget to Lily's home he must pass the smithy, a place he was frightened togo near even with his nurse, for Black Tom, the smith, was a veryterrible person. He was often intoxicated, and used then to swear mostawfully; and, indeed, Lily had once told Charlie in confidence that hernurse had said she f
elt pretty sure Black Tom would not think anythingat all of eating little boys and girls. Dreadful as he thought him,Charlie could not believe that Black Tom was quite as wicked as this;but still he trembled as he drew near the smithy. But how amazed hefelt, when he got within sight of it, to see Tom standing at the door,washed and brushed up to such an extent, that the child hardlyrecognised his old aversion!

  Tom's employment was more wonderful still. He was playing with Lily,who was sitting perched upon his shoulder, laughing and screaming withdelight. As soon as she saw Charlie she slid down, and holding Tom'sgreat rough hand in her tiny one, pulled him along the lane towards herlittle friend.

  "Tom is not exactly a bear or a lion," thought Charlie, with a