Jessie Carlton Part 16

CHAPTER X.

Madge Clifton.

When Jessie reached home she threw her hood and cloak carelessly on to the floor. The cloak-stand was pretty well filled up, and she was in too much haste, to take the pains needed to find a place on the hooks for her garments. This was one of her faults. A new impulse had seized her, and she thought of nothing else. Bounding into her mother's room, she said:

"Mother, will you let me make two shirts for poor Jack Moneypenny?"

Mrs. Carlton looked up from her work, and after a moment's glance at the eager face of her daughter, asked:

"Who is Jack Moneypenny, my dear?"

Jessie, in her eagerness to carry her point, had forgotten to ask if her mother knew any thing of the widow, or her son, Jack. This question checked her ardor a little, and she told the story of the widow's misfortune. Just as she was finishing her tale, however, she thought of Guy's wish to keep his part in the affair a secret. So blushing deeply, she added:

"Oh dear! what will Guy say? I promised to keep it all secret, and now I have told all about it. He said girls couldn't keep a secret, and I believe he is right. What shall I do, Mother?"

"Why tell him that you have told me, to be sure. Guy has no secrets with his mother, and I am sure he does not wish his sister to have any."

"Has Guy told you about it, then?"

"Yes, he told me all his plans from the first. Guy never conceals any thing from his mother."

"What made you ask me who Jack Moneypenny was, then, Ma, if you knew before?"

"Only to teach my Jessie, that she ought to be less abrupt in her manners.

You should have stated your case first, and then have asked me your question."

"So I should, Ma," said Jessie, musing a few moments, and gazing on her foot, as she traced the outline of the carpet-pattern with it. Then smiling, she looked up, and added, "but you know, Mamma, it is my way, to speak first, and think afterwards."

"Not a very wise way, either," said Mrs. Carlton; "but about those shirts, why do you wish to make them?"

Jessie told her mother about Jack's letter, and what the widow had said.

"Well," replied Mrs. Carlton; "I will give you the cloth, and cut out the shirts, if you really wish to make them."

"I do, Mother, very much wish to do it. Only think how glad the widow will be, and how comfortable the shirts will make the poor sick boy, in that horrid hospital."

"Very true, my dear, but how about your uncle's slippers, and cushion, and watch-pocket?"

A blush tinged Jessie's cheek again. The little wizard had once more hurried her into a new plan before her old ones had been worked out.

Plainly she could not help poor Jack and keep her former resolution, not to be turned aside from finishing her gifts for Uncle Morris. She was fairly puzzled. It was right to make shirts for a poor boy. It was right to keep her purposes too. Yet she could not do both. But did not the boy need the shirts, more than Uncle Morris did his slippers? Would not her uncle be willing to wait? No doubt he would, but then her promise to finish the slippers before beginning any thing else, was part of a plan for conquering a bad habit. Would it be right to depart from that plan?

Such were the questions which floated like unpleasant dreams through Jessie's mind as she sat with her hands on the back of a chair-seat, knocking her heels against the floor. Her mother, though she allowed her to think awhile in silence, read her thoughts in the workings of her face.

When Jessie seemed to be lost in the fog of her own thoughts, Mrs. Carlton came to her aid, and said:

"Jessie."

"Yes, Ma."

"I have been thinking that poor Jack needs those shirts directly, and that you could not make him a pair in less than two, perhaps in not less than three weeks. So I don't see how you can help him out of his present trouble."

Jessie sighed, and said, "I didn't think of that."

"Well, I have a plan to propose. I will send him two of Guy's shirts to-morrow, and you shall make two new ones for Guy, at your leisure."

"What a dear, good, nice mother you are," cried Jessie, running to Mrs.

Carlton, and giving her more kisses than I am able to count.

Thus did a mother's love find a key with which to unlock Jessie's puzzle, and to enable her to help poor Jack, without breaking her purpose to finish Uncle Morris's things, and thereby drive that plague of her life, the little wizard, away from Glen Morris.

"I will work ever so hard, see if I don't, Ma," said she, as she patted her mother's cheek. "I will finish the slippers, and get the shirts done, too, before Christmas. Don't you think I can?"

"You _can_, I have no doubt, if you try my dear."

"Well, I'll _try_ then. I'll join Guy's famous Try Company, and will try and try, and try again, until I fairly succeed."

Mrs. Carlton kissed her daughter affectionately; after which the now light-hearted girl bounded out of the room, singing--

"If you find your case is hard, Try, try, try again.

Time will bring you your reward, Try, try, try again.

All that other people do, Why with patience should not you?

Only keep this rule in view, Try, try, try again."

"That's it! That's it, my little puss," said Uncle Morris, who was in the parlor which Jessie entered singing her joyous roundelay. "Corporal Try is a little fellow, but he has helped do all the great things that have ever been done. There is nothing good or great which he cannot do. He will help a little girl learn to darn her own stocking, or make a quilt for her old uncle; and he will help men build big steamships, construct railroads over the desert, or lay a telegraph wire under the waters of the ocean. Oh, a great little man is Corporal Try!"

"I know it," replied Jessie, "and I've joined his company; so if you meet little Impulse the wizard, please tell him not to come here again unless he wishes to be beaten with a big club called good resolution."

"Bravely spoken, Lady Jessie! May you never desert the Corporal's colors!

Above all, may you always obtain grace from above whereby to conquer yourself, which is the grandest deed you can possibly perform."

Jessie sat down to her work-basket, and took up one of the pieces of cloth for her uncle's slippers. But as it was now late in the afternoon of a dull November day, she could not see to embroider very well. So she thought she would go out again and buy the brown worsted which was needed in working out the figure on the slippers. Going to the window first, she noticed that the sky looked cold and bleak. The wind, too, was whistling mournfully among the branches of the trees, and round the corners of the house. It was evidently going to be a cold night. Turning from the window again, she said to her brother Hugh, who was sitting very cosily in a large arm-chair before the glowing fire in the grate:

"Please, Hugh, will you run down to the village with me? I want to get some worsted at Mrs. Horton's."

"Why didn't you get it this afternoon?" asked Hugh in his usual grumpy way when asked to do any thing.

"I didn't think of it."

"Didn't think of it, eh? Well, I don't think I shall be your lackey this cold afternoon. I'd rather sit here and keep my toes warm."

"Do go, dear Hugh, please do!" said Jessie in her mellowest tones. "I shall want the worsted to-morrow morning."

"Oh, go to Greenwich! You are always wanting something. Girls want a mighty sight of waiting on. I won't go."

Jessie turned away from her ungracious brother wishing, as she had so often done, that he "was more like Guy." Had it been a little earlier in the afternoon, she would have gone alone; but as it was nearly dark she preferred company.

"Oh dear!" sighed she, "what shall I do? I wish Guy was in."