Karl Krinken, His Christmas Stocking

“‘O yes—it’ll take a little while,’ said Sue. ‘I haven’t got the water boiling yet.’

“‘Have you got meal enough for both of us?’

“‘Yes, I guess so;—plenty.’

“Just then Mrs. Lucy opened the front door and brought her sweet face into the room. She looked a little hard at the two children, and asked Sue how her mother was. Roswald bowed, and Sue answered.

“‘May I go up and see her?’

“Sue gave permission. Mrs. Lucy went up the stairs. Roswald stopped Sue as she was following.

“‘Sue, I’ll go to market for you to-day. Give me twopence of your money, and I’ll get the meal you want.’

“‘O thank you, Roswald!’ said Sue;—‘that will be such a help,—’ and she ran for the pennies, and gave them into his hand.

“‘I’ll be back presently,’ said he; ‘and then I’ll tell you about things. Run up now after Mrs. Lucy.’

“‘I don’t believe I need,’ said Sue; ‘they don’t want anything of me.’

“‘Run up, though,’ said Roswald; ‘maybe Mrs. Lucy will ask your mother too many questions.’

“‘Why, that won’t hurt her,’ said Sue, laughing; but Roswald seemed in earnest, and she went up.

“Immediately Roswald set himself to build a fire. He knew where to go for wood, and he knew how to manage it; he soon had the hearth in order and a fine fire made ready; and it was done without a soil on his nice clothes and white linen. He was gone before Mrs. Lucy and Sue came down, but the snapping and sparkling in the chimney told tales of him.

“‘Why, he has made the fire for me!’ cried Sue, with a very pleased face.

“‘Who made it?’ said the lady.

“‘Roswald.’

“‘That boy that was here when I came?’

“‘Yes, ma’am; he has made it for me.’

“‘Who is he?’

“‘He is Roswald Halifax.’

“‘What, the son of the widow, Mrs. Halifax?’

“‘Yes, ma’am.’

“‘And how came you to know him so well?’

“‘Why, I have always known him,’ said Sue; ‘that is, almost always. I used to know him a great many years ago, when I went to school; and he always used to take care of me, and give me rides on his sleigh, and go on the beach with me; and he always comes here.’

“‘Is he a good boy?’

“‘Yes, ma’am; he’s the best boy in the whole place,’ Sue said, with kindling eyes.

“‘I hope he is,’ said Mrs. Lucy, ‘for he has nobody to manage him but his mother. I fancy he has pretty much his own way.’

“‘It’s a good way,’ said Sue, decidedly. ‘He is good, Mrs. Lucy.’

“‘Does your mother want anything in particular, Sue?’

“Sue hesitated, and looked a little troubled.

“‘Tell me, dear; now, while your father is away, you have no one to manage for you. Let me know what I can do.’

“‘O Roswald would manage for us,’ said Sue;—‘but–’

“‘But what?’

“The lady’s manner and tone were very kind. Sue looked up.

“‘She has nothing to eat, ma’am.’

“‘Nothing to eat!’

“‘No, ma’am; and I’ve only two shillings and sixpence,—two shillings and fourpence, I mean,—to get anything with; and I don’t know what to get. She can’t eat what we can.’

“‘Have you nothing more to depend on but that, my child?’

“‘That’s all the money we have, ma’am.’

“‘And what have you in the house besides? tell me, dear. We are all only stewards of what God gives us; and what you want, perhaps, I can supply.’

“Sue hesitated again.

“‘We haven’t anything, Mrs. Lucy, but a little Indian meal. Roswald is going to buy me some more.’

“‘Are your father’s affairs in so bad a condition, my child?’

“‘He can’t get work, ma’am; if he could, there would be no trouble. And what he does he can’t always get paid for.’

“‘And how long has this been the case, dear?’

“‘A long time,’ said Sue, her tears starting again,—‘ever since a good while before mother fell sick;—a good while before;—and then that made it worse.’

“Mrs. Lucy looked at Sue a minute, and then stooped forward and kissed the little meek forehead that was raised to her; and without another word quitted the house.

“Sue, with a very much brightened face, set about getting her porridge ready; evidently enjoying the fire that had been made for her. She set on her skillet, and stirred in her meal; and when it was bubbling up properly, Sue turned her back to the fire and stood looking and meditating about something. Presently away she went, as if she had made up her mind. There was soon a great scraping and shuffling in the back room, and then in came Sue, pulling after her with much ado a big empty wooden chest, big enough to give her some trouble. With an air of business she dragged it into the middle of the room, where it was established solid and square, after the fashion of a table. Sue next dusted it carefully, and after it the counter and chairs, and mantel-shelf; the floor was clean swept always; and Sue herself, though in a faded calico, was as nice in her ways as her friend Roswald. Never was her little brown head anything but smooth-brushed; her frock clean; her hands and face as fair and pure as Nature had meant them to be. Roswald looked as if soil could not stick to him.

“When the room was in due state of nicety, Sue brought out and placed the two plates, the salt-cellar, with a little wooden spoon in it, the tumblers of blown glass, a pitcher of water, and the spoons. She had done then all she could, and she turned to watch her porridge and the front door both at once; for she did not forget to keep the porridge from burning, while her eye was upon the big brown door at every other minute.

“The porridge had been ready some time before the door at last opened, and in came Roswald bearing a large market-basket on his arm.