Mary: A Nursery Story for Very Little Children

by Mrs. Molesworth

Janiewent to school sometimes, but, anyway, the Bertram children never passedthe cottages or met the little Perrys in the lanes without seeing thebaby in its usual resting-place. The other two babies seemed to spendtheir lives in a queer old-fashioned kind of double perambulator. Itwas made of wicker; and in fine weather, and indeed sometimes in weatherthat was not so very fine, was almost always to be seen standing at thecottage-door or just outside the gate leading into the little garden,with the two small people tied into it, one at each side.

  To-day they were there as usual. There, too, was Janie with numberthree baby in her arms, while Comfort was strolling about with a book inher hand, out of which she seemed to be learning something.

  "Good-morning," said Leigh, by way of opening the conversation."Where's Ned? He can't be at school; it's a half-holiday, isn't it?"

  "Please, sir--no, sir, if Ned was at school, Comfort and me would be atschool too," said Janie.

  And Comfort, hearing the talking, came up to where they were standing.They were all in the lane just outside the little garden.

  "Ned's run in just to get a bit of cord," said the elder girl. "We'regoin' a walk in the woods. We must take the little ones, 'cos mother'swashing's got late this week, and she wants them out of the way."

  It was rather curious that Mrs Perry's washing often did get late. Shewas a kind, good-natured woman, but "folks said," according to nurse,not the best of good managers.

  "What's Ned going to do with the cord?" asked Leigh, Artie and Marystanding by, listening with the greatest interest, and holding eachother's hands tightly, as they felt just a little shy.

  "Oh, it's a notion of Ned's," said Janie, rather scornfully. "It's justhis nonsense: he don't like pushing p'ram, 'cos he says it's girls'work, and Comfort don't hold with pushing it neither, 'cos she wants tobe reading her book."

  Here Comfort broke in.

  "'Tisn't that I'm so taken up with my book," she said,--"leastways notto please myself; but I want to get moved up after next holidays. WhenI'm big enough I'm to be a pupil teacher."

  "That would be very nice," said Leigh. "And then, when you're quitebig, you'll get to be a schoolmistress, I suppose."

  Comfort murmured something and got very red. To be a schoolmistress wasthe greatest wish she had.

  "But I don't see," Leigh went on, "what Ned and the cord's got to dowith it."

  "Bless you, sir," said Janie, "he's going to make hisself into a pony todraw the p'ram, so as Comfort need do nothing but walk behind pushingwith one hand and a-holding of the book with the other, and no need tolook out where they're going."

  "Oh, I see," said Leigh slowly. He could not help admiring the idea.Then, as Ned at that moment ran out of the cottage, the three littlevisitors stood in a row watching with the greatest interest while Nedharnessed himself to the front of the wicker carriage. It was a littledifficult to manage, but luckily the Perry family were verygood-natured, and the two babies in the perambulator only laughed whenthey got jogged about. And at last, with Leigh's help, the two-leggedpony was ready for the start.

  Off they set, Comfort holding on behind. She was so interested in itall, by this time that her book was given to one of the babies to hold.

  This was lucky, as the first start was rather a queer one. Ned was nottied in quite evenly, so when he set off at a trot the perambulator ranto one side, as if a crab instead of a boy were drawing it. And but forComfort behind, no doubt, in another minute it would have turned over.

  "Stop, Ned, stop!" shouted his sisters, Leigh and Artie and Mary joiningin, and the babies too.

  Then they all burst out laughing; it did seem so funny, and it took aminute or two before they could set to work to put things right. WhenNed's harness was made quite even, he set off again more slowly. Thistime it was a great success, or it seemed so anyway, though perhaps itwas as much thanks to Comfort's pushing behind as to Ned's pulling infront.

  Mary and her brothers stood watching the little party as they made theirway along the smooth path leading to the wood.

  "It's a good thing," said Leigh, "they're not going the smithy way, forif they went down hill, I believe the carriage would tumble over; it'ssuch a shaky old thing."

  "When our baby gets a perambulator it'll not be like that ugly oldthing, will it?" said Artie. "It will be a reg'lar nice one."

  "Of course it will," said Mary. "I'd like it to be the same as the onein my animal book. `G' for goats, with little goats drawing it."

  "We can't have a goat," said Leigh; "but we might have something. Ofcourse it's rubbish to harness a boy into a carriage, but--I've gotsomething in my head."

  There was no time for Artie and Mary to ask him what he meant, for justthen they saw their father coming out of the gate.

  "I've kept you waiting a long time, I'm afraid," he said. "Poor oldSweeting was so glad to see me, and when she begins talking, it goes onfor a good while."

  "We didn't mind, papa dear," said Mary, slipping her hand into herfather's. "We've been speaking to the children in the next cottage.There's such lotses of them. When you was a little boy, papa, did youhave lotses of brothers and sisters--did you?"

  "No, my pet, I hadn't any at all," papa answered. "That was rather sad,wasn't it? But I had a very kind father and mother. Your grandfatherdied many years ago, but you know for yourselves how kind grandmotheris."

  "Grandmother," said Artie and Mary together, looking rather puzzled.

  "I don't understand," said Mary, and Artie did not understand either,though he would not say so.

  "How silly you are!" said Leigh; "of course grandmother is papa'smother."

  "Oh," said Mary, with a little laugh, "I never thought of that! Iunderstand now. Then grandmother used to be a mamma!"

  "Yes, indeed, and a very sweet one," said papa. "I'm afraid, perhaps,she spoilt me a very little. When I was a child the rules for smallpeople were much stricter than they are now. But I was never at allafraid of my mother."

  "Were you afraid of your father?" asked Leigh with great interest.

  "Well, just a little perhaps. I had to be a very obedient boy, I cantell you. That reminds me of a story--"

  "Oh, papa, do tell it us!" said all three at once, while Mary, who washolding his hand, began giving little jumps up and down in hereagerness.

  "It was ever so long ago, almost thirty years! I was only six at thetime. My father had to go up to London for a few days, and as my motherwas away from home--nursing her mother who was ill--"

  "What was _she_ to us?" interrupted Leigh, who liked to get thingsstraight in his head.

  "Great-grandmother," answered his father; "_one_ of yourgreat-grandmothers, not the one that we have a picture of, though."

  "I thought we had pictures of all our grand--I don't know what you callthem--for hundreds of years," said Leigh.

  "Ancestors, you mean," said his father, "but mostly the Bertram ones ofcourse. But if I begin explaining about that now, we'll never get onwith my story. Where was I? Oh, yes! I was telling you that my fathertook me up to London with him, rather than leave me alone at home. Iwas very pleased to go, for I'd never been in a town before, and Ithought myself quite a great man, going off travelling alone with myfather. We stayed at an hotel--I'm not sure where it was, but thatdoesn't matter; I only know it was in a quiet street running out ofanother large wide street, where there were lots of shops of all kinds,and carriages and omnibuses and carts always passing by. My father tookme out with him as much as he could; sometimes he would leave me waitingfor him in a cab at the door of the houses where he had to see people onbusiness, and once or twice he found me fast asleep when he came out.He didn't think that good for me; so after that, he sometimes left me inthe hotel in the care of the landlady who had a nice little girl justabout my age, with whom I used to play very happily.

  "One day--the day before we were to leave--my father took me outshopping with him. He had to buy some presents, for it was nearChristmas-time, to take home for the little cousin
s who were coming tostay with us. We went off to a large toy-shop in the big street I toldyou of. It was a very large shop, with a door at each end--one out ofthe big street, and the other opening on to a smaller back street nearerour hotel. And besides the toy-shop there was another part where theysold dressing-cases and travelling-bags and things of that kind.

  "We were a good while