What is to be done with the children?" That was the chief question now. The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve. After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Jones said that he would take John, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Ellis, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Katy, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years.
"I could do much better, I know," said Mrs. Ellis; "but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she's an undisciplined thing--used to having her own way."
But no one said "I'll take Maggie." Pitying glances were cast on her wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on her account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing her soiled and ragged clothes, dressed her in clean attire. The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take her in. Who wanted a bed-ridden child?
"Take her to the poorhouse," said a rough man, of whom the question "What's to be done with Maggie?" was asked. "Nobody's going to be bothered with her."
"The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child," answered one.
"For your child or mine," said the other, lightly speaking; "but for tis brat it will prove a blessed change, she will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored, which is more than can be said of her past condition."
There was reason in that, but still it didn't satisfy. The day following the day of death was made the day of burial. A few neighbors were at the miserable hovel, but none followed dead cart as it bore the unhonored remains to its pauper grave. Farmer Jones, after the coffin was taken out, placed John in his wagon and drove away, satisfied that he had done his part. Mrs. Ellis spoke to Kate with a hurried air, "Bid your sister good by," and drew the tearful children apart ere scarcely their lips had touched in a sobbing farewell. Hastily others went out, some glancing at Maggie, and some resolutely refraining from a look, until all had gone. She was alone! Just beyond the threshold Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, paused, and said to the blacksmith's wife, who was hastening off with the rest,--
"It's a cruel thing to leave her so."
"Then take her to the poorhouse: she'll have to go there," answered the blacksmith's wife, springing away, and leaving Joe behind.
For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again. Maggie with painful "No, dear," he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over the child, "You sha'n't be left here alone." Then he wrapped her with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting her in his strong arms, bore her out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.
Now, Joe Thompson's wife, who happened to be childless, was not a woman of saintly temper, nor much given to self-denial for others' good, and Joe had well-grounded doubts touching the manner of greeting he should receive on his arrival. Mrs. Thompson saw him approaching from the window, and with ruffling feathers met him a few paces from the door, as he opened the garden gate, and came in. He bore a precious burden, and he felt it to be so. As his arms held the sick child to his breast, a sphere of tenderness went out from her, and penetrated his feelings. A bond had already corded itself around them both, and love was springing into life.
"What have you there?" sharply questioned Mrs. Thompson.
Joe, felt the child start and shrink against him. He did not reply, except by a look that was pleading and cautionary, that said, "Wait a moment for explanations, and be gentle;" and, passing in, carried Maggie to the small chamber on the first floor, and laid her on a bed. Then, stepping back, he shut the door, and stood face to face with his vinegar-tempered wife in the passage-way outside.
"You haven't brought home that sick brat!" Anger and astonishment were in the tones of Mrs. Joe Thompson; her face was in a flame.
"I think women's hearts are sometimes very hard," said Joe. Usually Joe Thompson got out of his wife's way, or kept rigidly silent and non-combative when she fired up on any subject; it was with some surprise, therefore, that she now encountered a firmly-set countenance and a resolute pair of eyes.
"Women's hearts are not half so hard as men's!"
Joe saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing had impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, "Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child's face, and when the cart went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky."
"Where were John and Kate?" asked Mrs. Thompson.
"Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. 'Send her to the poorhouse,' was the cry."
"Why didn't you let her go, then. What did you bring her here for?"
"She can't walk to the poorhouse," said Joe; "somebody's arms must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task."
"Then why didn't you keep on? Why did you stop here?" demanded the wife.
"Because I'm not apt to go on fools' errands. The Guardians must first be seen, and a permit obtained."
There was no gainsaying this.
"When will you see the Guardians?" was asked, with irrepressible impatience.
"To-morrow."
"Why put it off till to-morrow? Go at once for the permit, and get the whole thing off of your hands to-night."
"Jane," said the wheelwright, with an impressiveness of tone that greatly subdued his wife, "I read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little children. How the Savior rebuked the disciples who would not receive them; how he took them up in his arms, and blessed them; and how he said that 'whosoever gave them even a cup of cold water should not go unrewarded.' Now, it is a small thing for us to keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to her for a single night; to make her life comfortable for a single night.
What is to be done with the children?" That was the chief question now. The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve. After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Jones said that he would take John, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Ellis, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Katy, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years."I could do much better, I know," said Mrs. Ellis; "but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she's an undisciplined thing--used to having her own way."But no one said "I'll take Maggie." Pitying glances were cast on her wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on her account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing her soiled and ragged clothes, dressed her in clean attire. The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take her in. Who wanted a bed-ridden child?"Take her to the poorhouse," said a rough man, of whom the question "What's to be done with Maggie?" was asked. "Nobody's going to be bothered with her.""The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child," answered one."สำหรับลูกของฉัน ว่า อื่น ๆ เบาพูด "แต่ สำหรับมอก. brat มันจะพิสูจน์การเปลี่ยนแปลงความสุข เธอจะเก็บทำความสะอาด มีอาหารเพื่อสุขภาพ และจะ doctored มากกว่าสามารถกล่าวว่า ของเธอผ่านเงื่อนไข"มีเหตุผลในที่ แต่ยัง ไม่ได้ตอบสนอง วันต่อวันตายทำการฝังศพวัน บางบ้านได้ที่ hovel เอง แต่ไม่มีตามรถเข็นศพมันแบกอยู่ unhonored ศพของยาจก ชาวนาโจนส์ หลังจากหีบศพถูกนำออก วางจอห์น wagon ของเขาและขับรถ ความพึงพอใจที่เขาทำส่วนของเขา นางเอลลิสได้พูดกับเคท ด้วยอากาศ hurried "ประมูลน้องสาวของคุณดีตาม" แล้วดึงเด็ก tearful แยก ere แทบริมฝีปากของพวกเขาได้สัมผัสในอำลา sobbing รีบคนอื่นออกไป บางทิวทัศน์ที่แม็กกี้ และบาง resolutely ใต้ดู จนกว่าทั้งหมดก็หายไป เธอคนเดียว เพียงเกินขีดจำกัดโจทอมป์สัน wheelwright หยุดชั่วคราว และกล่าวถึงภรรยาของช่างตีเหล็ก ที่มี hastening ปิดกับส่วนเหลือ, -"เป็นสิ่งที่โหดร้ายไปให้เธอเพื่อให้""แล้ว พาเธอไป poorhouse: เธอจะต้องไปที่นั่น, " ตอบภรรยาของช่างตีเหล็ก เกิดจาก และปล่อยให้โจอยู่เบื้องหลังเดี๋ยวคนที่ยืน ด้วยอากาศพิศวง เขาปิด แล้วไปเข้า hovel อีกครั้ง แม็กกี้กับความเจ็บปวด "ไม่มี รัก, " เขา ตอบ เสียงดี ไปเตียง และ stooping ลงกว่าเด็ก "คุณ sha'n ไม่ ค้างที่นี่คนเดียว" แล้ว เขาห่อเธอ มีมนต์เสนห์ของผู้หญิง ในเกี่ยวกับภัตตาคารสะอาดซึ่งบางบ้านได้นำ เกือบ ก ยกเธอในอ้อมแขนของเขาแข็งแกร่ง แบกเธอออกไป ในอากาศ และวางระหว่าง hovel บ้านของเขาตอนนี้ โจทอมป์สัน ที่เกิดขึ้นจะไม่มีบุตร ภรรยาไม่หญิงที่มีอารมณ์ saintly หรือมากให้ self-denial ดีของคนอื่น และโจมีป่นเล็กน้อยพักข้อสงสัยสัมผัสอวยพรอย่างเขาควรได้รับการมาของเขา นางทอมป์สันเห็นเขากำลังจากหน้าต่าง และ มีขน ruffling เจอไม่กี่ก้าวจากประตู เขาเปิดประตูสวน และมา เขาแบกภาระค่า และเขารู้สึกว่ามันจะเป็นดังนั้น แขนของเขาจัดเด็กป่วยของเต้านม ทรงกลมของเจ็บออกไปจากเธอ และอวัยวะความรู้สึกของเขา พันธบัตรมีแล้ว corded เองรอบ ๆ พวกเขาทั้งสอง และความรักเกิดในชีวิต"สิ่งที่มีคุณมี" สอบสวนนางทอมป์สันอย่างรวดเร็วJoe, felt the child start and shrink against him. He did not reply, except by a look that was pleading and cautionary, that said, "Wait a moment for explanations, and be gentle;" and, passing in, carried Maggie to the small chamber on the first floor, and laid her on a bed. Then, stepping back, he shut the door, and stood face to face with his vinegar-tempered wife in the passage-way outside."You haven't brought home that sick brat!" Anger and astonishment were in the tones of Mrs. Joe Thompson; her face was in a flame."I think women's hearts are sometimes very hard," said Joe. Usually Joe Thompson got out of his wife's way, or kept rigidly silent and non-combative when she fired up on any subject; it was with some surprise, therefore, that she now encountered a firmly-set countenance and a resolute pair of eyes."Women's hearts are not half so hard as men's!"Joe saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing had impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, "Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child's face, and when the cart went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky.""Where were John and Kate?" asked Mrs. Thompson."Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. 'Send her to the poorhouse,' was the cry.""Why didn't you let her go, then. What did you bring her here for?""She can't walk to the poorhouse," said Joe; "somebody's arms must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task.""Then why didn't you keep on? Why did you stop here?" demanded the wife."Because I'm not apt to go on fools' errands. The Guardians must first be seen, and a permit obtained."There was no gainsaying this."When will you see the Guardians?" was asked, with irrepressible impatience."To-morrow.""Why put it off till to-morrow? Go at once for the permit, and get the whole thing off of your hands to-night.""Jane," said the wheelwright, with an impressiveness of tone that greatly subdued his wife, "I read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little children. How the Savior rebuked the disciples who would not receive them; how he took them up in his arms, and blessed them; and how he said that 'whosoever gave them even a cup of cold water should not go unrewarded.' Now, it is a small thing for us to keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to her for a single night; to make her life comfortable for a single night.
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