Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
"Yes, my dear," returned Bob. "I wish you could have gone. It would have
done you good to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I
promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little
child!" cried Bob. "My little child!"
He broke down all at once. He couldn't help it. If he could have helped
it, he and his child would have been farther apart perhaps than they
were.
He left the room, and went upstairs into the room above, which was
lighted cheerfully, and hung with Christmas. There was a chair set close
beside the child, and there were signs of some one having been there,
lately. Poor Bob sat down in it, and when he had thought a little and
composed himself, he kissed the little face. He was reconciled to what
had happened, and went down again quite happy.
They drew about the fire, and talked; the girls and mother working
still. Bob told them of the extraordinary kindness of Mr. Scrooge's
nephew, whom he had scarcely seen but once, and who, meeting him in the
street that day, and seeing that he looked a little--"just a little down
you know," said Bob, inquired what had happened to distress him. "On
which," said Bob, "for he is the pleasantest-spoken gentleman you ever
heard, I told him. 'I am heartily sorry for it, Mr. Cratchit,' he said,
'and heartily sorry for your good wife.' By the bye, how he ever knew
_that_, I don't know."
"Knew what, my dear?"
"Why, that you were a good wife," replied Bob.
"Everybody knows that!" said Peter.
"Very well observed, my boy!" cried Bob. "I hope they do. 'Heartily
sorry,' he said, 'for your good wife. If I can be of service to you in
any way,' he said, giving me his card, 'that's where I live. Pray come
to me.' Now, it wasn't," cried Bob, "for the sake of anything he might
be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way, that this was quite
delightful. It really seemed as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt
with us."
"I'm sure he's a good soul!" said Mrs. Cratchit.
"You would be surer of it, my dear," returned Bob, "if you saw and spoke
to him. I shouldn't be at all surprised, mark what I say, if he got
Peter a better situation."
"Only hear that, Peter," said Mrs. Cratchit.
"And then," cried one of the girls, "Peter will be keeping company with
some one, and setting up for himself."
"Get along with you!" retorted Peter, grinning.
"It's just as likely as not," said Bob, "one of these days; though
there's plenty of time for that, my dear. But however and whenever we
part from one another, I am sure we shall none of us forget poor Tiny
Tim--shall we--or this first parting that there was among us?"
"Never, father!" cried they all.
"And I know," said Bob, "I know, my dears, that when we recollect how
patient and how mild he was; although he was a little, little child; we
shall not quarrel easily among ourselves, and forget poor Tiny Tim in
doing it."
"No, never, father!" they all cried again.
"I am very happy," said little Bob, "I am very happy!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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