A Patriotic Schoolgirl Part 23

"Oh yes! He'll tell you what he may eat, won't you, Eric?"

The little fellow nodded. His eyes were s.h.i.+ning.

"I didn't know it was to be a fairy feast!" he murmured softly, half to himself.

The girls were busy unpacking their parcels. They had brought several presents which they thought would amuse the child during the long hours he probably spent in bed, a jig-saw puzzle, a drawing-slate, a box of coloured chalks, a painting-book, and a lovely volume of new fairy tales. His delight was pathetic. He looked at each separately, and touched it with a finger, as if it were a great treasure. The fairy book, with its coloured pictures of gnomes and pixies, he clasped tightly in his arms.

"It's as good as having a birthday!" he sighed. "I had mine a while ago. t.i.tania couldn't come to see me, because the young fairies had to be looked after, but she sent me a paint box. I wish you knew t.i.tania."

"I wish we did. What's she like?"

"She's the beautifullest person in all the world. n.o.body else can play fairies as well as she can. And she can tell a new story every time.

You'd just fall straight in love with her if you saw her. I know you would! It's a pity fairies have to be so busy, isn't it? Some day when I'm better, and she has time, she's going to take me away for a holiday.

Think of going away with t.i.tania! The doctor says I must drink my medicine if I want to get well."

"Don't you like medicine?"

Eric pulled an eloquent face.

"It's the nastiest stuff! But I promised t.i.tania I'd take it. I sometimes have a chocolate after it."

"Will you have one now? We're just going to unpack our basket to get tea. Will it hurt you if we wheel you over there on to the gra.s.s?

There's such a lovely place where we could sit."

The spot that the girls had chosen for their picnic was ideal. It was a patch of short fine gra.s.s near the edge of the cliff, with a bank for a seat. The ground was blue with the beautiful little flowers of the vernal squill, and clumps of sea-pinks, white bladder campion, and golden lady's fingers bloomed in such profusion that the place was like a wild garden. The air was soft and warm, for it was one of those beautiful afternoons in early May when Nature seems predominant, and one can almost spy nymphs among the trees. Below them the sea rippled calm and s.h.i.+ning, merging at the horizon into the tender blue of the sky. Gulls and puffins wheeled and screamed over the rocks. Eric looked round with a far-away expression on his quaint little face, and gravely accepted the flowers that Dona picked for him.

"It's enchanted ground!" he said in his oldfas.h.i.+oned way. "Every flower hides the heart of a tiny fairy. I know, because I've been here in my dreams. I have funny dreams sometimes. They're more real than being awake. One night I was floating in the air, just like that bird over the sea. I lay on my back, and I could see the blue sky above me, and look down at the green cliffs far below. I wasn't frightened, because I knew I couldn't fall. I felt quite strong and well, and my leg didn't hurt me at all. Sometimes I dream I can go through the air. It isn't exactly either flying or floating or running--it's more like shooting. I get to the tops of mountains, and see the wonderfullest places. And another night I was riding on the waves. There was a great storm, and I came sweeping in with the tide into the bay. I wish I could always dream like that!"

"You shall have tea with the elves to-day," said Elaine, bringing the little fellow back, if not to absolute reality, at least to a less visionary world than the dream-country he was picturing. "Look! I've brought a mug with a robin on it for your milk. May you eat bread and honey? Honey is fairy food, you know. Here's a paper serviette with violets round it, instead of a plate."

Eric's appet.i.te was apparently that of a sparrow. He ate a very little of the bread and honey, and a tiny piece of cake, but drank the milk feverishly. He seemed tired, and lay back for a while on his pillows without speaking, just gazing at the flowers and the sea and the sky. He fondled his book now and then with a long sigh of content. Elaine motioned to Marjorie and Dona not to disturb him. Her knowledge of nursing told her that the child must not be over-excited or wearied. She felt it a responsibility to have charge of him, and was rather relieved when Lizzie's creaking boots came back along the road.

Eric brightened up to say good-bye.

"I shall tell t.i.tania all about you," he vouchsafed. "Perhaps she'll come and see me soon now. I love her best, of course, but I love you next best. I shall pretend every day that I'm playing with you here."

"I hope he's not too tired," whispered Elaine to Lizzie.

"No, but I'd best get him home now, or his ma'll be anxious. He'd one of his attacks last night. Oh, it'll have done him good coming out this afternoon! He was set on seeing you."

The girls stood watching as Lizzie trundled the long perambulator away, then packed their basket and set off towards Brackenfield, for it was time for Marjorie and Dona to return to school.

"How stupid of us!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Elaine. "We never asked his surname or where he lives, and I particularly intended to, this time."

"So did I, but I quite forgot," echoed Marjorie.

"I'm not sure if I want to know," said Dona. "He's just Eric to me--like someone out of a book. I've never met such a sweet, dear, precious thing in all my life before. Of course, if I don't know his name I can't send him things, but I've got an idea. We'll leave a little parcel for him with the girl who looks after the refreshment kiosk on the Whitecliffe Road, and ask her to give it to him next time he pa.s.ses. She couldn't mistake the long perambulator."

"And write 'From the fairies' on it. Good!" agreed Marjorie. "It's exactly the sort of thing that Eric will like."

CHAPTER XIX

A Potato Walk

Dona's suggestion was adopted, and she and Marjorie began a little system of correspondence with Eric. At their request Elaine bought a small present and left the parcel with the attendant at the refreshment kiosk, who promised to give it to him.

"I know the child quite well by sight," she said. "A delicate little fellow in an invalid carriage. They used to pa.s.s here two or three times a week last summer, and sometimes they'd stop at the kiosk and the girl would buy him an orange or some sweets. I hadn't seen him for months till he went by a few days ago. Yes, I'll be sure to stop him when he pa.s.ses."

That the girl kept her word was evident, for a week afterwards she handed Elaine a letter addressed to "The Fairy Ladies". Elaine forwarded it to Marjorie and Dona. It was written in a round, childish hand, and ran:

"DARLING BLUEBELL AND SILVERSTAR,

"I like the puzzle you sent me. I often think about you. I love you very much. I hope I shall see you again. I played fairies all yesterday and pretended you were here.

"With love from "ERIC."

"Dear little man!" said Marjorie. "I expect it's taken him a long time to write this. We'll buy him a blotter and some fancy paper and envelopes and leave them at the kiosk for him."

"I wish we could go to the cove and see him again," said Dona.

It happened that for the next two exeats Aunt Ellinor had arranged a tennis party or some other engagement for her nieces, so that it was not possible to take a walk on the cliffs. They left a supply of little presents, however, at the kiosk, so that something could be given to Eric every time he pa.s.sed. The a.s.sistant was almost as interested as Marjorie and Dona.

"He looks out for those parcels now," she a.s.sured them. "You should just see his face when I run out and give them to him. I believe he'd be ever so disappointed if there was nothing. The girl that wheels him left a message for you. His mother thanks you for your kindness; and will you please excuse his writing, because it isn't very good for him and takes him such a long time. He's never been able to go to school."

"Poor little chap!" laughed Dona. "I expect someone has to sit by him and tell him how to spell every word. Never mind, he can draw fairies on the notepaper we sent him. We'll get him a red-and-blue chalk pencil."

"I dare say he'd like a post-card alb.u.m and some cards to put in it,"

suggested Marjorie.

"Oh yes! I saw some of flower fairies at the Stores. We'll ask Elaine to get them."

"And those funny ones of cats and dogs. I've no doubt it's anything to amuse him when he has to lie still all the day long."

As the summer wore on, and submarines sank many of our merchant vessels on the seas, the food question began to be an important problem at Brackenfield. Everyone was intensely patriotic and ready to do all in her power to help on the war. Mrs. Morrison believed in keeping the girls well abreast of the important topics of the moment. She considered the oldfas.h.i.+oned schools of fifty years ago, where the pupils never saw a newspaper, and were utterly out of touch with the world, did not conduce to the making of good citizens. She liked her girls to think out questions for themselves. She had several enthusiastic spirits among the prefects, and found that by giving them a few general hints to work upon she could trust them to lead the others. Winifrede in particular realized the gravity of the situation. Armed with a supply of leaflets from the local Food Control Bureau, she convened a meeting of the entire school in the a.s.sembly Hall.

Winifrede was a girl whose intense love of her country and ready power of fluent speech would probably lead her some day to a public platform.

Meantime she could always sway a Brackenfield audience. She was dramatic in her methods, and when the girls entered the hall they were greeted by large hand-printed posters announcing:

"THE GERMANS ARE TRYING TO STARVE US.

GERMAN SUBMARINES ARE REDUCING SUPPLIES.

YOU MUST ECONOMIZE AT HOME."

There were no teachers present on this occasion, and the platform was occupied by the prefects. Winifrede, with an eager face and fully convinced of the burning necessity of rationing, stood up and began her speech.

"Girls! I think I needn't tell you that we're fighting in the most terrible war the world has ever seen. We're matched against a foe whose force and cunning will need every atom of strength of which we're capable. They are not only shooting our soldiers at the front, and bombing our towns, but by their submarine warfare they are deliberately trying to reduce us by starvation. There is already a food crisis in our country. There is a serious shortage of wheat, of potatoes, of sugar, and of other food-stuffs. Perhaps you think that so long as you have money you will be able to buy food. That is not so. As long as there is plenty of food, money is a convenience to buy it with, but no more.