CHAPTER V

Feeding the Hungry

MRS. HARRINGTON did not come down to her children for some days. When she arrived she was in deep black, and she brought the family lawyer with her. She did not see much of her children, but then she never had. She cried a little over them the first evening of her arrival, then she began to discuss their clothes with Nurse.

"I will have no black frocks. Keep them in their holland and white ones, and give them black sashes and ribbons, and put a black ribbon round their hats. That is all that is necessary."

"As long as we are in the country, I suppose, ma'am," said Nurse, with rather a shocked face.

"I am not going to have you back in town for some time. I am going to let our town house, but I will talk to you about this later on."

Nurse looked rather dismayed, but she said nothing.

This was all that the children heard. They were pleased at the idea of staying on in the country, and now that Nurse was more occupied with their mother, and less in the nursery, they enjoyed greater liberty. Jane was very good-natured, and was not particular about their behaviour. When she went out walking with them they could do pretty well as they liked. One afternoon they met Dreamikins with her maid. She welcomed them with rapture.

"I've been longing to see you. Cherubine and me feel quite dull. Fibo told me your daddy was dead. Are you very sad?"

"Of course we are," said Daffy. "We've cried gallons, and all the house is miserable, and everybody wears black dresses but us; it's a shame!"

"Do you like black frocks? Why?"

"Because they don't show the dirt," said Freda promptly. "We hoped Mums would give us some, but she won't."

"I s'pose you've been too miserable to think of being sheep."

"No-o," said Freda slowly; "we've laid plans for the stranger's bedroom, but it isn't ready yet."

"Mine is," said Dreamikins, with pride. "I maded the bed myself. I asked Fibo if I might get a bedroom ready for a visitor, and he said 'Yes.' Fibo nearly always says 'Yes,' he is such an A.M."

"What's that?"

"Angel Man. I always call him that when he is special kind. I've come out this morning to hunt about for a stranger, but I can't find one; not even a little one. Everybody we've met lives about here."

"We might do some of the other things first," said Daffy thoughtfully.

"But the stranger is the most exciting," said Freda. "I'm longing to meet him."

And then as they were walking along the lane talking eagerly somebody came towards them. It was a man, and he was in dusty clothes, and he limped. He carried an old sack across his shoulder, and one of his boots was tied round his foot with a handkerchief.

In a moment the three little girls darted towards him.

Dreamikins reached him first.

"Would you like to sleep at our house to-night?" she asked him breathlessly.

"No, at ours," shouted Freda and Daffy together.

He looked at them surlily.

"Garn with yer games!" he said; and he pushed past them, but Dreamikins laid her soft little hand on his arm.

"You must listen—we'll make you. It isn't a game; it's real sober truth. If you don't want us to take you in, p'raps you're hungry, or thirsty. Are you?"

Then the old tramp stopped.

"Yes," he said, "I be fair longin' for a drink. Have ye a copper, little leddies?"

But Dreamikins shook her head. "We must give it to you ourselves, and I reached you first, so I'll do it."

Freda and Daffy looked rebellious. But Dreamikins turned upon them with her sweetest smile.

"You won't mind, will you? I'll just go and get him a glass of milk. I'll take him to our house and give it to him. You see, my house is nearer than yours."

Before Freda and Daffy could offer any objections she had turned the corner of the lane with the tramp.

Annette, who had been talking to Jane, now hurried up.

"Ah, Miss Emmeline!" she exclaimed. "Where is it now that cheeld has gone? Away with a beggar? What a life I lead!"

She ran after her little charge, and Freda and Daffy were following, when Jane stopped them, and insisted upon going another way.

"'Tisn't time to be turning back to the village yet. Come, Miss Freda, we're going to the wood where the nuts are. You let them go and fight their own battles. We'll go on where we meant to go."

Jane gained her point after some disputing; but Daffy whispered:

"We'll go and see Dreamikins this afternoon when we're playing in the garden, and we'll go through the little door."

[Illustration: FREDA AND DAFFY POUNCED UPON HIM IMMEDIATELY]

"I mean to be first next time," said Freda. "Dreamikins will take every one away from us if we don't take care."

For the first time they felt rather angry with their little friend; but they were very curious to know whether she had given the strange man a drink or not.

"The thing for us to do is to be ready for everything out of doors," said Freda, with decision. "We must have food and drink in our pockets, and give them to the very first beggar we see."

"I wish it wasn't beggars we have to look for; they're so dirty and rude," said Daffy discontentedly.

But on their way home fortune seemed to favour them. They came across a little boy with a white face and ragged coat sitting in the hedge. His feet were bare, and he was clutching a bundle which rested on his knees. Freda and Daffy pounced upon him immediately.

"Are you thirsty?"

"Hungry, are you?"

"Sick?"

"Do you want a nice bed to-night to go to sleep on?"

The boy looked at them with rather frightened eyes, and didn't speak.

"Who are you, and where do you live?" asked Freda, trying to speak more quietly. "You must be quick and answer, because Jane will be interfering, so make haste."

The boy jerked his thumb back over his shoulder.

"My feyther be on his rounds. He've gone over to them there 'ouses to mend their pots and pans."

"Is he a tinker?"

The boy nodded.

"And are you very poor? Wouldn't you like us to give you something to eat and drink?"

Another nod, but the boy's face brightened, and he looked up at them expectantly.

Alas, Jane came up.

"Now, Miss Freda, Nurse don't allow you to speak to tramps, I know."

"He isn't a tramp," said Freda indignantly; "his father is a tinker. We have a picture in our book 'Tim the Tinker.' They're kind of gipsies, and he's a very nice little boy."

Daffy bent her head near the stranger child.

"Come up to the Hall this afternoon at three o'clock, and wait behind the big tree in front of the house," she whispered.

Freda heard the whisper and approved. Very often whilst she hotly disputed with Nurse, Daffy quietly went and did the thing they wanted to do.

Jane found no difficulty in getting them to come home. Freda and Daffy walked on sedately in front of her. They talked eagerly in low tones, and made plans for the good of the small wayfarer.

They were turned out in the garden as usual, after their nursery dinner. Both Freda and Daffy had managed to secrete some meat, and Freda had added a piece of currant pudding, which she put in her pocket. Daffy had got a medicine bottle filled with clean water. They made their way to the grand old cedar in the centre of the lawn, and there sat down to wait for their visitor. Bertie was trundling his wheelbarrow along the gravel path. He was filling it with small stones as he went.

"We shall do better than Dreamikins," said Daffy. "And the Bible says a cup of cold water, not milk, is the thing to be given. I remember Nurse reading it to us long ago, so I've got a cup in my pocket too."

"But we haven't got his bed ready," said Freda disconsolately. "It seems so difficult; p'raps he won't want it. We'll ask him."

The time seemed long as they sat there and waited.

At last they thought they saw something moving in the shrubbery at the bottom of the lawn; and then a little figure came out of it, and crept up to them very shyly. He was barefooted no longer. He had washed his face and hands and looked quite tidy and respectable.

Freda looked a little disappointed.

"Are you really hungry and thirsty?" she asked sternly. "Speak the truth, for this isn't a game, it's a—a religious thing!"

"And," said Daffy, looking at him with dancing eyes, "if it's done properly it will turn us into sheep."

Well might the small boy stare at the children in dazed wonder.

"There be six of us," he said, "and times be bad, and feyther he won't go for a soldier, and mother she lams it into him he oughter."

"Of course he ought," said Freda; "our father went out to fight in Egypt somewhere, and he's been killed."

The small boy did not seem impressed, but he told them he was "fair famished."

"Now sit down, and we'll give you something to eat and drink. You first, Daffy."

So Daffy with great pride pulled out of her pocket a small china cup and her medicine bottle of water.

She filled the cup solemnly and presented it to him.

He looked at it, took a gulp, then pitched the cup on the grass, and Freda declared afterwards that he used a "wicked swear" word.

"I didn't come up 'ere in the bloomin' heat to be fooled," he said.

Freda and Daffy looked quite frightened.

Freda hastily produced some slices of cold roast mutton in a paper parcel.

"We're not fooling you; we're giving you what the Bible tells us to give you—meat and water. And I've a piece of pudding besides. Here it is!"

He almost snatched the meat from her, and ate it wolfishly in his fingers.

"Hain't you got no more?" he asked.

"Here's the pudding," said Freda.

She and Daffy watched him with disgusted faces. Then Daffy said very gently:

"I don't think you know how very differcult it's been to get you anything at all. We had to get Nurse out of the room, and coax Jane, and then she would hardly let us take any."

The pudding quickly disappeared, and then the boy's bright impudent eyes looked up.

"Mother thought as 'ow you might give me something for the little 'uns. Feyther—he drinks more'n he earns."

"We've nothing more to-day," said Freda hastily; "except p'raps we could get a bedroom for you. Would you like to sleep with us one night?"

He grinned, but shook his head.

"Where do you sleep?" asked Daffy.

"We lives in Northcott; we was only comin' roun' the village 'ere, feyther and me. Mother 'll be on the look-out for me now; 'er did hope for a napple puddin' or such-like."

Even Freda and Daffy received that suggestion suspiciously. Apple puddings, of course, would be a boy's taste, but a mother with a starving family might prefer something more nourishing. Then from under his jacket he produced a dirty white calico bag.

"Mother giv' me this to bring back full," he said.

Freda and Daffy gasped as they saw the size of it.

They consulted together in low tones.

"You see, we shall be feeding a lot of hungry children all at once," said Freda. "I'm sure it would be a good thing to do. Let's take the bag, Daffy, and go round to the yard by the back-kitchen door. The kitchen-maid might give us some scraps."

"Yes; we'll tell him to wait here."

No sooner said than done. The boy threw himself down on the grass under the tree, and the little girls ran off with his bag.

They were fortunate in meeting Nellie, the kitchen-maid. She was filling a can from a tap in the yard. They hastily explained to her what they wanted.

"A dear little hungry boy, and he will be glad of any scraps."

"Dear Nellie, do give us some, but don't tell Nurse."

She laughed.

"Eh, but you'll be gettin' me into a scrape sure enough if Cook catches me."

But she took the bag, and in about five minutes' time came back with it nearly full.

"'Twill only be thrown to the fowls and dogs," she said. "There, get on, or else we'll all be getting into trouble."

Away marched the little girls with their burden, but, alas! as they turned round the corner of the house they saw a big motor at the hall door.

Their mother was saying good-bye to some friends, and, to add to their dismay, Nurse was crossing the lawn with Bertie.

Mrs. Harrington caught sight of her little girls, and called to them.

"Come and speak to your godmother, Freda; and Daffy too. Come along!"

Daffy ran forward, but, on the impulse of the moment, Freda dropped her bag and sat upon it. It was the only way she could hide it.

Daffy stopped when she saw her sister was not following her.

"Go on, Daffy; I can't get up," said Freda desperately.

"What is Freda doing?" asked Mrs. Harrington, as she introduced her little girl to a pleasant-looking motherly woman—a Lady Aline Cotteswode—and her son, an invalided soldier from the War.

"She can't get up," said Daffy nervously.

"Has she hurt herself? Oh, I must see my goddaughter!"

In another moment, to Freda's horror, her mother and her visitors left the motor and came along the terrace to where she sat.

Now Freda felt she was in a desperate plight. In another moment the bag would be exposed, and she would be handed to Nurse in deep disgrace.

"I must tell a lie, I must, I must," she said frantically to herself.

"Get up at once, Freda. What are you doing?" said Mrs. Harrington sharply.

Freda looked up with agonised eyes.

"I can't, Mums."

"Where are you hurt?"

Then the young soldier laughed out.

"She's sitting on eggs. We mustn't disturb her."

It was only too plain that she was sitting upon something, and her mother caught hold of her and lifted her up. Then Freda stood with scarlet cheeks and downcast eyes, and the bag itself was lifted up by her vexed mother.

"My little girls are always hatching mischief, not eggs," she said, with a forced laugh. "What in the world does this bag of food mean, Freda, and why should you try to hide it?"

"Never mind," said Lady Aline cheerfully, kissing the hot soft little cheeks, and becoming conscious that Freda's blue eyes were filling with tears. "You were in the middle of a lovely game when we disturbed you. I want you to come over and spend a day with me soon. I am having little Emmeline Broughton over. She is a close neighbour of yours. Do you know her?"

"Dreamikins?" asked Freda, forgetting her trouble at once. "Oh yes, we love her, and we love her uncle too."

"Ah!" said young Captain Cotteswode. "There you show your good taste! He's a great friend of mine, and that little elf of a niece leads him a nice dance sometimes."

Lady Aline laughed, and turned to Mrs. Harrington.

"Keep your chicks away from her, Helen, if you value your peace of mind! She took a drunken tramp to the village inn this morning and gave him two glasses of beer. He began to get quarrelsome, and then the Rector passed by, heard the row, and rescued the young lady. He could not convince her she had done wrong, for she said the man had told her he was thirsty, and the Bible told her to give him drink."

Daffy and Freda exchanged glances.

After a little more talk, Lady Aline and her son went back to their motor, and drove away. Then Mrs. Harrington turned to her little daughters.

"Now, what is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, Mums, there was a poor little hungry boy, and we were taking some scraps to him. Please let us do it. He is waiting down near that tree."

"But you mustn't encourage beggars, children. Does Nurse know about it? And why did you behave like that, Freda? I was ashamed of you. Don't you know you should never hide up anything? Doesn't Nurse teach you to be truthful and frank? I must speak to her about it."

"Oh, please, Mums, forgive me," said Freda humbly. "Don't tell Nurse, she scolds and scolds and scolds, and makes us out the wickedest children in the world, when we are really trying to be good."

"And, darling Mums, may we just give the bag to this poor boy? For it belongs to him, and we promised him," said Daffy coaxingly.

"Where is he?"

Freda pointed to the tree on the lawn.

Mrs. Harrington went towards it, the children following her. She spoke rather sharply when she saw the boy.

"Look here, you must go away at once. I will let my little daughters give you what they promised you, but I have told them it must never occur again, and this is the last time you come near the Hall. Do you quite understand?"

The boy took the bag held out to him by Freda, then he touched his cap to Mrs. Harrington, and darted down the drive.

"Now then, children, run away to Nurse, and don't act so foolishly again."

Mrs. Harrington went back to the house. Freda and Daffy drew long breaths of relief.

"Mums won't tell Nurse. She always forgets to. I'm so glad the boy has got it. What an awful thing for Dreamikins to do! She said she was going to give him milk."

"I expect he told her he would rather have beer," said Daffy; "and we were going to see her, Freda, and we haven't gone."

"It's too late now. We'll go to-morrow. We've done more than she has, anyway."

"But he didn't like my water," said Daffy sorrowfully.