The Lamplighter Part 4

"Kate?--She's Mrs. M'Carty's daughter in the next house. Mr. Flint does them many a good turn--saws wood, and so on. They do most of his was.h.i.+ng; but they can't half pay him all the kindness he's done that family. Kate's a clever girl; she'll be glad to come and work for him any day. I'll ask her."

"Will she come to-morrow?"

"Perhaps she will."

"Uncle True's going to be gone all day to-morrow," said Gerty; "he's going to get in Mr. Eustace's coal. Wouldn't it be a good time?"

"Very," said Mrs. Sullivan. "I'll try and get Kate to come to-morrow."

Kate came. The room was thoroughly cleaned and put in order. Gerty's new clothes were delivered to her own keeping; she was neatly dressed in one suit, the other placed in a little chest found in the pantry, and which accommodated her small wardrobe very well.

It was the result of Mrs. Sullivan's, Kate's, and Gerty's combined labour which astonished True on his return from his work; and the pleasure he manifested made the day a memorable one in Gerty's life, one to be marked in her memory as long as she lived, as being the first in which she had known _that_ happiness--perhaps the highest earth, affords--of feeling that she had been instrumental in giving joy to another. Gerty had entered heart and soul into the work, when she had been allowed. She could say with truth, "_We_ did it--Mrs. Sullivan, Kate, and _I_." None but a loving heart like Mrs. Sullivan's would have sympathized in the feeling which made Gerty so eager to help. But _she_ did, and allotted to her many little services, which the child felt herself more blessed in being permitted to perform than she would have done at almost any gift bestowed upon her. She led True about to show him how cleverly Mrs. Sullivan had made the most of the room and the furniture; how, by moving the bed into a recess, she had reserved the whole square-area, and made a parlour of it. It was some time before he could be made to believe that half of his property had not been spirited away, so incomprehensible was it to him that so much additional s.p.a.ce and comfort could be acquired by a little system. But his astonishment and Gerty's delight reached their climax when she took him into the lumber-closet, now transformed into a snug and comfortable bed-room.

"Well, I declare! Well, I declare!" was all the old man could say. He sat down beside the stove, now polished, and made, as Gerty declared, new, just like Mrs. Sullivan's; warmed his hands, for they were cold with being out in the frosty evening, and then took a general view of his reformed domicile, and of Gerty, who was about to set the table, and toast the bread for supper. Standing on a chair, she was taking down the cups and saucers from among the regular rows of dishes s.h.i.+ning in three-cornered cupboard, being deposited on the lower shelf, where she could reach them from the floor, a plate containing some smoothly cut slices of bread, which the thoughtful Mrs. Sullivan had prepared for her. True watched her motions for a minute or two, and then indulged in a short soliloquy. "Mrs. Sullivan's a clever woman, sartain, and they've made my old house here complete, and Gerty's getting to be like the apple of my eye, and I'm as happy a man as----"

CHAPTER V.

WHERE IS HEAVEN?

Here True was interrupted by a sudden and unceremonious opening of the door. "Here, Uncle True, here's your package. You forgot all about it, I guess; and I forgot it, too, till mother saw it on the table, where I'd laid it down. I was so taken up with just coming home, you know."

"Of course--of course!" said True. "Much obleeged to you, Willie, for fetchin' it for me. It's brittle stuff it's made of, and most likely I should have smashed it 'fore I got it home."

"What is it?--I've been wondering."

"Why, it's a little knick-knack I've brought home for Gerty here, that----"

"Willie! Willie!" called Mrs. Sullivan from the opposite room, "have you been to tea, dear?"

"No, indeed, mother; have you?"

"Why, yes; but I'll get you some."

"No, no," said True; "Stay and take tea with us, Willie; take tea here, my boy. My little Gerty is making some famous toast, and I'll have the tea presently."

"So I will," said Willie! "No matter about any supper for me, mother, I'm going to have my tea here with Uncle True. Come, now, let's see what's in the bundle; but first I want to see little Gerty; mother's been telling me about her. Where is she? Has she got well? She's been very sick, hasn't she?"

"Oh, yes, she's nicely now," said True. "Here, Gerty, look here. Why, where is she?"

"There she is, hiding behind the settle," said Willie, laughing. "She ain't afraid of me, is she?"

"Well, I didn't know as she was shy," said True; "you silly little girl," added he, "come out here and see Willie. This is Willie Sullivan."

"I don't want to see him," said Gerty.

"Don't want to see Willie!" said True; "why, you don't know what you're sayin'. Willie's the best boy that ever was; I 'spect you and he'll be great friends by-and-by."

"He won't like me," said Gerty; "I know he won't."

"Why shan't I like you?" said Willie, approaching the corner where Gerty had hid herself. Her face was covered with her hands. "I guess I shall like you first-rate when I see you."

He stooped down, and, taking her hands from her face and holding them in his own, he fixed his eyes full upon her, and pleasantly said, "How are you, cousin Gerty--how do you do?"

"I an't your cousin!" said Gerty.

"Yes, you are," said Willie; "Uncle True's your uncle, and mine too!--so we're cousins--don't you see?--and I want to get acquainted."

Gerty could not resist Willie's good-natured words and manner. She suffered him to draw her out of the corner towards the lighter end of the room. As she came near the lamp, she tried to free her hands in order to cover her face up again; but Willie would not let her, and, attracting her attention to the unopened package, he succeeded in diverting her thoughts from herself, and in a few minutes she was quite at her ease.

"There, Uncle True says it's for you," said Willie; "and I can't think what 'tis, can you?"

Gerty felt, and looked wonderingly in True's face.

"Undo it, Willie," said True.

Willie produced a knife, cut the string, took off the paper, and disclosed one of those white plaster images, so familiar to every one, representing the little Samuel in an att.i.tude of devotion.

"Oh, how pretty!" exclaimed Gerty, full of delight.

"Why didn't I think?" said Willie; "I might have known what 'twas by feeling."

"Why! did you ever see it before?" said Gerty.

"Not this same one; but I've seen lots just like it."

"Have you?" said Gerty. "I never did. I think it's the beautifullest thing that ever was. Uncle True, did you say it was for me? Where did you get it?"

"It was by an accident I got it. A few minutes before I met you, Willie, I was stoppin' at the corner to light my lamp, when I saw one of those _furrin_ boys with a sight o' these things, and some black ones too, all set up on a board, and he was walking with 'em a-top of his head. I was just a wonderin how he kept 'em there, when he hit the board agin my lamp-post, and the first thing I knew, whack they all went! he'd spilt them everyone. Lucky enough for him, there was a great bank of soft snow close to the side-walk, and the most of 'em fell into that and wasn't hurt. Some went on to the bricks, and were smashed. Well, I kind o'

pitied the feller; for it was late, and I thought like enough he hadn't had much luck sellin' of 'em, to have so many left on his hands----"

"On his head, you mean," said Willie.

"Yes, Master Willie, or on the snow," said True; "any way you've a mind to have it."

"And I know what you did, Uncle True, just as well as if I'd seen you,"

said Willie; "you set your ladder and lantern right down, and helped him to pick 'em all up--that's just what you'd be sure to do for anybody."

"This feller, Willie, didn't wait for me to get into trouble; he made return right off. When they were all set right, he bowed and sc.r.a.ped, and touched his hat to me, as if I'd been the biggest gentleman in the land; talkin,' too, he was, all the time, though I couldn't make out a word of his lingo; and then he insisted on my takin' one o' the figurs.

I wasn't agoin' to take it, for I didn't want it; but I happened to think little Gerty might like it."

"Oh, I shall like it!" said Gerty. "I shall like it better than--no, not better, but almost _as well_ as my kitten; not _quite_ as well, because that was alive, and this isn't; but _almost_. Oh, an't he a cunning boy?"

True, finding that Gerty was wholly taken up with the image, walked away and began to get the tea, leaving the two children to entertain each other.

"You must take care and not break it, Gerty," said Willie. "We had a Samuel once, just like it, in the shop; and I dropped it out of my hand on to the counter, and broke it into a million pieces."