by A. A. Milne
“Elsie’s never dere.”
“No, people don’t go there till they die.”
“Elsie’s never dere ‘cept when Elsie’s gettin’ made. Wasn’t Elsie dere den? didn’t Dod make Elsie up in heaven?”
“No, darling, you were never there, but if you love Jesus he will take you there some day.”
“Mamma, how nicely you answer or parry her questions,” said Violet. “As her father says, she can ask some that a very wise man could not answer.”
“Yes, she has an inquiring mind, and I would not discourage her desire to learn by asking questions,” Grandma Elsie said, adding with a smile, “I can remember that her mother used to ask me some very puzzling ones twenty years ago.”
“And I never received a rebuff, but was always answered to the best of your ability, dear mamma. I think of that now when tempted to impatience with my little girl’s sometimes wearisome questioning, and resolve to try to be as good a mother to her as you were to me; and still are,” she added with a loving smile. “And now that she has gone back to her play and baby Ned is sleeping, I want a quiet chat with you.”
“Then let us go to your boudoir and have it,” her mother answered, rising and moving toward the door.
“Mamma, I have not heretofore been timid about burglars,” Violet said, when they were seated in the boudoir, each busied with a bit of needlework, “but I fear that I shall be in future; for only think, mamma, how near they were to my husband and myself while we lay sleeping soundly in our own room! How easily they might have murdered us both before we were even aware of their presence in the house.”
“Could they? had you then no wakeful guardian at hand?”
“O mamma, yes! ’Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world,’ and ‘He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep’; and yet— haven’t even Christians sometimes been murdered by burglars?”
“I can not assert that they have not,” replied her mother. “’According to your faith be it unto you,’ and even true Christians are sometimes lacking in faith— putting their trust in their own defences, or some earthly helper, instead of the Keeper of Israel; or they are fearful and doubtful, refusing to take God at his word and rest in his protecting care.
“I do not see that we have anything to do with the question you propounded just now; we have only to take God’s promises, believe them fully and be without carefulness in regard to that, as well as other things. I am perfectly sure he will suffer no real evil to befall any who thus trust in him.
“Death by violence may sometimes be a shorter, easier passage home than death from disease; and come in whatever shape it may, death can be no calamity to the Christian.”
“Solomon tells us that the day of death is better than the day of one’s birth. ‘Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.’
“My dear Vi, I think one who can claim all the promises of God to his children, should be utterly free from the fear that hath torment; should be afraid of nothing whatever but displeasing and dishonoring God.”
“Yes, mamma, I see that it is so; and that all I lack to make me perfectly courageous and easy in mind, is stronger faith.
“I think my husband has a faith which lifts him above every fear, and that he is perfectly content to leave all future events to the ordering of his heavenly Father.”
Grandma Elsie’s eyes shone. “You are blest in having such a husband, my dear Vi,” she said. “I trust you will help each other on in the heavenly way, and be fellow-helpers to your children and his.”
Violet looked up brightly. “I trust we shall, mamma; we both earnestly desire to be, and I think his three all give good evidence that they have already begun to walk in the straight and narrow way; and no wonder, considering what a faithful, loving, Christian father he is— so constant in prayer and effort on their behalf.”
“Ah,” as the sound of wheels was heard on the driveway, “they have returned; and now we shall have a report of all that was done in the magistrate’s office. It must have been quite an ordeal to Max and Lulu.”
Chapter 17
Capt. Raymond was met at the door by the youngest two of his daughters.
“Papa, I’se been yaisin’ seeds,” announced little Elsie, running into his arms.
“Yaisin’ seeds,” he echoed; “what can that mean?”
“She means seeding raisins, papa,” explained Grace, with a merry laugh. “We’ve been in the kitchen helping the cook. At least pretending to help her. Perhaps we hindered more than we helped.’”
“I dare say,” he responded; “but I hope Elsie didn’t eat the raisins, nor you either; they are quite too indigestible for your young stomachs.”
“We each had one, papa; that was all. I told Elsie we wouldn’t eat any more till we asked leave, and she was a good little girl and didn’t tease for more.”
“That was right; but for your own sakes I must say that is all you can have.”
He had paused for a moment in the hall to pet and fondle the two. Max and Lulu stood looking on; Harold and Herbert were taking off their overcoats near by.
“You’re a funny talker, Elsie,” laughed Max.
“Your English is not of the purest, little woman,” said her Uncle Harold.
“Tell Uncle Harold he must not expect perfection in a beginner,” said her father. “Where are grandma and mamma?”
“In the parlor I believe,” said Grace. “Oh no! see, they are just coming down the stairs.”
“Yes, here we are,” said Violet; “anxious, for a report of the morning’s proceedings in the magistrate’s office. Won’t you walk into the parlor, gentlemen, and let us have it?”
“Certainly, we will be very happy to gratify your very excusable curiosity,” returned her husband laughingly, as she came to his side, and he stooped his tall form to give her the kiss with which he never failed to greet her after even a brief separation.
The older people all repaired to the parlor, but the children did not follow.
“I must go and look over my lessons,” said Max.
“And I’m going to my room,” said Lulu. “Gracie, if you will come with me, I’ll tell you all about the trial— if that’s what they call it.”
“O yes, do!” responded Grace, as the two started up the stairs together. “Were you scared, Lu?”
“No; I didn’t feel frightened, for I’m not timid you know, and papa was near me all the time; and he’d told me all I had to do was to tell a straightforward, truthful story.
“I did hate to take the oath, but I knew I had to, and that it wasn’t wrong, though it does seem a dreadful thing to do.”
“It isn’t like other swearing,” remarked Max, who was moving on up the stairs, somewhat ahead of his sisters. “There must be a right kind, because in the psalms, where David is describing a good man, he says of him, ‘He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not.’”
“Yes, I know,” said Lulu, “I can see the difference; and this must be the right kind or papa would never have let us do it.”
“How do they do it?” asked Grace. “How did you do it, Lu?”
“A man said over the words for me— a promise to ’tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth’— and I promised by kissing the Bible; that was all.”
“That wasn’t very hard to do,” said Grace, “but oh I’d have been so frightened to have to tell something with so many people listening!”
“Of course; because you’re such a weak, timid little thing; but I’m big and strong and not afraid of anybody or anything.
“There were a good many people there; the room was quite full; but I felt that that did not make much difference, when I thought about God hearing every word I said and knowing if it was really the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
“Ajax’s wife was there; crying fit to break her heart too; specially when they took him back to jail.
“Papa stopped and spoke to her before we got into the carriage to come
home. He said he was very sorry for her, but if she continued to be honest and industrious, he would see that she did not want; and he hoped her husband would some day come out of prison a better man.”
“Did she seem thankful to papa?” asked Grace.
“Yes; and she said she didn’t see how Ajax could be so bad and ungrateful as to try to steal papa’s money after he’d been so kind to her and the children.”
“Yes, and I pity ’Liza for being his wife, and the children because they have such a bad father.
“Lu, let’s ask papa if we mayn’t buy some calico and other things, with some of our benevolence money, and make clothes for them.”
“I wouldn’t mind giving the money,” said Lulu, “but I hate to sew on such things. You know I never did like plain sewing. I’ll see about it though.”
“You’d do it to please the dear Lord Jesus, even though you don’t like it?” said Grace softly.
“Yes, that I will, if papa approves,” returned Lulu warmly, her eyes shining. “Gracie, it’s good— a real pleasure, I mean— to make yourself do distasteful things, for Jesus’ sake.
“I’ll put my hat and coat in their proper places and smooth my hair, so I’ll be neat for dinner, and we’ll go and talk to papa about it at once. He’s sure to approve, and I don’t want to give myself any chance to change my mind and give the thing up.”
“And we won’t mind Grandma Elsie hearing,” added Grace; “perhaps she’ll know what they need the most, and maybe she’ll tell Rosie and Eva and they’ll offer to do something for the poor things too.”
“Oh yes: perhaps we can form ourselves into a Dorcas society. That’s what they call societies that make garments for the poor you know, because of Dorcas in the Bible who made coats and garments for the poor where she lived.”
“Yes, Lu; but there’s the dinner bell, and we’ll have to wait awhile before we can talk to papa about it; for you know he says we mustn’t talk a great deal at the table when there’s company.”
“And I have to smooth my hair yet, and that will make me late. I’m so sorry, because it vexes papa to have us unpunctual. Don’t wait for me, Gracie, for that will make you late too.”
“I’d rather wait for you, but I ’spose I ought to go at once,” Gracie said, looking regretfully back as she left the room.
The blessing had been asked and the captain was carving the turkey when Lulu took her seat at the table, which was close at his right hand.
He gave her a grave look.
“I’m very sorry I’m late, papa,” she said in a low tone, and casting down her eyes. “I’d been so busy talking with Gracie that I hadn’t my hair smoothed when the bell rang.”
“It has been a very exciting morning for you, daughter, and I’ll excuse you this time,” he returned, speaking kindly and in as low a key as her own; “it is not often I find you unpunctual.”
Lulu heaved a sigh of relief, her countenance brightened, and her eyes were lifted to her father’s face with a grateful, loving look that brought a smile to his lips and eyes.
She was very quiet during the meal, speaking only when spoken to, but her father kept an eye on her plate and saw that her wants were abundantly supplied.
On leaving the table all repaired to the parlor and Lulu and Grace, seizing the first opportunity offered them by a pause in the talk of their elders, told of their plan, and asked permission to carry it out.
It was received with entire approval by all present, their father included.
“I have no doubt that Rosie and Evelyn will be glad to join you in forming a Dorcas society,” said Grandma Elsie, “and if you like I shall be happy to cut out garments for you to work upon, and to teach you how to do it for yourselves.”
“Oh thank you, ma’am!” responded the little girls; “we were sure you would and it will be ever so nice.”
“Taridge tumin’! two taridge tumin’!” cried little Elsie, who had climbed on a chair, and was gazing out of a window looking upon the drive.
They proved to be the Ion and Fairview carriages, bringing the whole family of the latter place and all of the other who were not already present.
“We have come in a body, as you see, to learn all about the strange occurrences of last night and the consequent doings in the magistrate’s office this morning,” Grandpa Dinsmore remarked, as he shook hands with the captain and kissed Violet, first on one cheek, then on the other.
“Tiss Elsie too, danpa,” cried the little one toddling up to him; “oo mustn’t fordet to tiss oor ’ittle dirl.”
“Certainly not,” he said, taking her into his arms to kiss her several times, then sitting down with her on his knee. “Do you know that you are my great-granddaughter?”
“Ess, Elsie knows dat,” she answered, nodding her curly head wisely.
Meantime greetings had been exchanged among the others, and the four little girls had got into a corner by themselves.
“O Lu, do tell us all about it!” cried Rosie. “I never did hear of such a brave girl as you! Why I’d have been scared to death, and never have thought of such a thing as going down where the burglars were.”
“Oh I think you would if you’d been in my place,” returned Lulu modestly. “You see I was afraid if I waited to tell papa about them, they might come out and see him ready to fight them, and kill him; but I thought if I could get the door shut and fastened on them before they knew anybody was there, nobody would be hurt.”
“And that’s the way it was,” said Evelyn. “But you were a brave girl and there’s no use in your denying it.”
“Yes, indeed, you were,” said Rosie. “But come now do tell us the whole story; we want to hear it fresh from your lips.”
“And what went on in the magistrate’s office too,” added Eva. “Oh didn’t you dislike having to go there and testify?”
“Yes; I begged papa not to make me, but he said it was the law, and not he, that insisted.”
“Yes I know, and of course those things have to be done in such cases; but I hope my turn will never come. Now, Lu, please begin. You’ll have at least two very attentive listeners.”
“More than that, I think,” said Rosie, as other voices were heard in the hall, quickly followed by the entrance of the relatives from the Oaks, the Pines and Roselands.
And greetings were scarcely exchanged with these when the families from Ashlands and the Laurels joined the circle; so that quite a large surprise party had gathered there unexpectedly to themselves as well as to their hosts. The same desire— to learn the full particulars of what had reached them as little more than a vague report— had brought them all.
These were given, and Lulu received so much commendation, and was so lauded for her bravery, that her father began to fear she would be puffed up with vanity and conceit.
But at length that subject was dropped and the one of the proposed Dorcas society taken up.
Evelyn seemed quietly pleased and interested, Zoe, Lora and Rosie ready to enter into the work with enthusiasm, while the Dinsmore girls gave a rather languid attention to the discussion.
But when it had been decided to organize a society on the spot, and the business of electing officers was taken up, they roused themselves to a new interest, and Maud was evidently gratified when Evelyn nominated her for the secretaryship.
Lulu seconded the motion and Maud was unanimously elected.
Zoe had already been made president; Lora was chosen treasurer. These were all the officers considered necessary, but Sydney, Evelyn and Lulu were appointed a committee to visit the poor families in the neighborhood and learn what articles of clothing were most needed by them.
It was decided that the society should meet once a fortnight at one or the other of the homes of its members, taking them in turn; that at these meetings reports should be given in as to the state of the finances, work done, and articles needed; finished garments would also be brought in, examined and pronounced upon as well or ill done; the members would busy themselves in cutting
and basting new garments while together, and each carry home with her one or more to be made in the interval between that and the next meeting.
Also each member was to consider herself under appointment to invite her young girl, or young lady friends, from other families to join with them in the good work.
“Now I think that is all,” said Grandma Elsie; “you are fully organized and I invite you to hold your first meeting at Ion, next Wednesday afternoon. That will give time for ascertaining the needs of some of those we wish to assist, and the purchase of materials.”
“But how are your funds to be raised?” asked her father.
“By a tax on the members, and contributions from their friends, which will be thankfully accepted,” she said with a pleased smile as he took out his pocket-book and handed her a five dollar bill. “We are very much obliged, sir.”
The captain and other gentlemen present— some of the ladies also— immediately followed Mr. Dinsmore’s example.
Then the question of the amount of tax on the members was discussed and settled.
After that the captain said he had a suggestion to make; namely that it would be well for the little girls to be accompanied by an older person when making their visits to their proposed beneficiaries.
“It will require some wisdom and tact to make the necessary investigations without wounding the feelings of those they desire to benefit, or injuring their commendable pride of independence,” he said in conclusion.
“Thank you for the advice, captain,” Grandma Elsie replied; “I think it most wise. What have the members of the society to say about it?”
All responded promptly that they would prefer to have an older person with them on those occasions.
“And we’d better begin that business to-morrow,” said Zoe, “that whoever is to do the buying of materials to be cut and basted at the first meeting, may have the needed information in season.”
“I hope Grandma Elsie will buy the things,” said Lulu. “Don’t you all vote for that, girls?”
“Yes; yes, indeed; if she will,” they all answered, and were pleased that she at once consented to do so.
