The Village of Youth Part 6

Supposing she should die! Men and women died frequently in Paradise Court. Their bodies were carried out of the squalid dwellings and rattled over the streets to the crowded burial ground. The thought smote him painfully, and made a burning flush mount to his face. She must not die! What would riches and greatness mean to him unless she were there to share in his good fortune?

II.

The geranium was not at all happy in her new quarters. Although George attended to her wants most carefully she still thought with bitter regret of the greenhouse where she had been reared, and of the old gardener who had ministered to her. Here on the window sill of George's attic thousands of s.m.u.ts settled daily upon her leaves, and the air was heavy. So great was her discomfort that she would have most certainly ceased to live had not a sunbeam lost his way among the narrow courts of the city, and while darting in and out of the grimy streets in his endeavours to find the sun, espied the unhappy flower. He immediately climbed up his golden ladder, and rested among the broad green leaves, much to her delight.

She confided her pitiful history to this new-found friend, who was so kind and sympathetic that the geranium grew warm and happy. Presently the sun shone out in the murky sky, and immediately the sunbeam glided along his golden thread and rejoined his parent. He did not, however, forsake the plant which had sheltered him, but frequently visited her, so that she forgot her struggle for life, and grew into a fine healthy geranium, much to the delight of her young master.

As time pa.s.sed George began to realise that his mother would never rise from her bed again. Father Francis had gently told him that there was little hope of her recovery, and that when the great blow fell upon him he must reconcile himself to the will of the Almighty.

The poor waif suffered many hours of agony alone in his garret. Kneeling before the crucifix, he would beg G.o.d to spare the one thing he loved in all the world.

"I have so few comforts, dear Lord," he would say, "no clothes, little food; I can stand want if only you will not take her away." But when he was tired out with pain, he would raise his lips to the pierced feet, and kissing them, murmur, "Thy will be done."

His imagination had so often realised the picture that one morning, on finding his mother dead in her bed, he was hardly shocked.

The doctor said that death had resulted from syncope, accelerated by want of nourishment and neglect.

So the waif was left alone. His bright look departed. The wish for greatness was forgotten in his sorrow, and even his little sweetheart failed to comfort him.

On hearing of George's sad plight his father returned to live with him.

The boy's saddened face touched Ermen's hard heart, and for a time the son's misery was alleviated by his parent's kindness. His father was decently dressed, and evidently had a little money, for food was more plentiful in the garret than it had ever been during George's remembrance.

Thanks to the sunbeam's care, the geranium continued to thrive marvellously, and as show day drew near she approached her prime.

Miss Brand gave George a clean collar and a decent jacket, and Father Francis bought him his first pair of shoes for the great occasion.

On the morning of the distribution he was up at five o'clock, for at that early hour he had been told to take his geranium to the schoolroom, and enter it for the compet.i.tion.

Very gently he watered the leaves, taking care that not a drop should fall upon one of the five brilliant blossoms. As he stood admiring the plant he was surprised to hear footsteps in the adjoining room. His father had been away some days. He thought he must have returned earlier than he had expected. He therefore hurried to the door, and opened it, a joyful expression on his face. But it was the landlady, who stood there holding a dirty-looking letter in her hand.

"Look 'ere, sonnie, your father's been took ter gaol. 'E was on 'is way 'ome when the perlice took 'im in charge for that big jewel robbery at Manchester. 'E's wrote me this letter," she said, pausing to unfold the dirty piece of paper, while George stood pale to the lips with terror.

"'E sends you this message: 'Tell my son not ter grieve for me. It's all quite true what they says against me. I am a scamp, and always have been.'"

"'E'll get a lifer, that's a certainty," she observed to the lodgers downstairs when she had left the horror-stricken boy alone.

George couldn't weep at this last blow. He had not shed a tear since his mother's death. The agony in his heart was therefore all the more unbearable. He clenched his hands in pain.

Hours pa.s.sed, the bitterest he had ever spent. Whatever suffering the future held for him he never experienced such anguish again.

At last he raised his head. His face was white, his eyes were heavy and dull.

"Everything is against me," he moaned. "My mother's dead; my father, who had become so kind, taken and thrown into gaol. Why should I suffer hunger and cold and disgrace and beggary? Other boys, through no merit of theirs, are born rich. Why wasn't I a lord's son instead of a waif of the streets? Why should my mother die of neglect, when others have all they need? Oh! I'll ask G.o.d to kill me; death ain't so very terrible.

I've seen lots of boys of my age fished out of the river. It's only a few moments' pain, and Jesus wouldn't be 'ard on a little chap what's ben drove to it."

The geranium trembled with fear as she heard the boy's wild words. She spread out her blossoms and endeavoured to attract his attention.

Suddenly the garret was brilliantly illuminated. The sunbeam had glided down his golden ladder, and stood on the window sill.

George was amazed. He must be dreaming! What was this beautiful tiny creature enveloped in a haze of glory?

"The angels are sad when you despair, little boy. Gather your energies.

Receive your prize! You are ungrateful to the flower which has grown into so beautiful a plant for your sake. You are ungrateful to your G.o.d thus to abandon hope when you possess one of His greatest gifts."

"What gift?"

"Youth, a magic watchword that can open the enchanted gates in the land of genius."

"Genius?" said the boy wonderingly. "I have never heard of it."

"Live your life. Lose not a moment. At your years time flies. Be a great and a good man. Persevere. Out of the mire of this wilderness a golden flower shall rear its head, and grow in beauty day by day. It may even reach the Sun-lands."

III.

The schoolroom looked like a little paradise to the poor waifs a.s.sembled there. Many flags hung from the roof, and festoons of evergreens decorated the walls. A raised platform was covered with scarlet cloth.

On this were many well-dressed ladies, the seat of honour being filled by Lord Eltonville, who had consented to distribute the prizes. The geraniums were displayed around the room. Some amongst them were frail and sickly looking,--they had not been able to thrive in their squalid and sunless abodes,--others appeared more promising, and a few amongst the number had grown strong and handsome.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Of the four hundred plant cuttings thirty alone had not been returned for compet.i.tion.

At one side of the platform was a table upon which the prizes were arranged. They consisted of workboxes, paints, tops, knives, drums, books, blotters, ap.r.o.ns, pencils, etc.

Miss Brand, much distressed at the news of Ermen's arrest, and at his son's nonappearance, had told the story to some of the visitors, and a great deal of interest and sympathy were excited in his favour.

Father Francis had just uncovered the prizes. The crowd of children pushed and scrambled to get a look at the good things; but at a word from their lady chief even the most turbulent grew quiet.

Some lovely countenances were discernible among the little gathering.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances they would hardly have been noticed for the dirt and grime which covered them; but this was a gala day, and, thanks to Miss Brand's kind care, each child's face and hands had been washed, and their white collars lent an air of cleanliness even to the most ragged and worn dress.

Suddenly there was a stir in the room. A boy was seen advancing through the crowd holding a magnificent geranium in his arms.

Father Francis welcomed George in a quiet, kindly way. His plant was placed upon the platform for inspection, and it was universally agreed that had it been in time for the compet.i.tion George would have taken the first prize.

Grieved that her little friend should be too late, Miss Brand hastily unfastened a silver compa.s.s from her watch chain and gave it to Lord Eltonville, to whom she said a few private words.

The atmosphere was stifling, and George was faint for want of food. Many of the children's mothers were present holding infants in their arms.

Their worn, anxious faces beamed with delight as Lord Eltonville rose to distribute the prizes.

"George Ermen, in consideration of your misfortune, Miss Brand wishes to overlook the fact that your geranium was not entered for the compet.i.tion this morning. I have, therefore, the great pleasure of awarding you a special extra prize, the presentation of which shall have precedence in our day's business."

George walked to the platform and received the pretty silver compa.s.s, a flush of pride and delight colouring his pale cheek.

"Let me advise you to cultivate smilax round your window," added his lordship, doubtless thinking of his magnificent greenhouses, and little realising the misery and squalor in which the waifs of the great city dwelt.

"Smilax!" murmured George wonderingly.