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Jill's Red Bag

[192] <div></div> <h2> XIV </h2> "YOU AND YOUR RED BAG ARE AT THE BOTTOM OF IT ALL!" Mona was looking out of the drawing-room window one fine bright frosty afternoon, when she saw Jill tearing out of the stable-yard with the large carriage-whip in her hand. Her face was almost as red as her Tam o' Shanter, and Mona exclaimed to Miss Webb— "I wonder what is the matter! Jill is in one of her tempers. I hope she is not going to wreak vengeance on any human being." "Oh, let her alone," said Miss Webb. "She must have an explosion now and then, for the way she bottles up her spirits now is marvellous. Miss Falkner seems to have no complaint to find with any of them. It is not natural." Mona laughed lightly, but putting on a wrap she slipped out of the house and crossed the lawn. Angry voices led her to the pine wood. There before the trespassers' board she found [193] Jill brandishing her whip with fury in her face. Jack was by her side, armed with a stout stick; and Bumps, well in the rear, was picking up fir cones, and throwing them wildly at everybody. Two workmen were the aggressors; the pile of stones was scattered on the ground, and they seemed to be enjoying the children's wrath. "Who put those stones up?" Jill was screaming. "I did, and you're thieves to touch them!" "But they comed from that there wall," argued the younger of the men; "and us have orders to build it up. 'Twasn't business of yours to take them stones from the wall. Back they shall go, or my name isn't Jim Hall!" "You dare to touch one!" shouted Jack. "Come on and try, we're ready for you!" "You're trespassers and thieves!" cried Jill. "Come on! I have my whip ready!" <div class="figure"> <ANTIMG src="images/image06s.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="440" title="'You're Trespassers and Thieves.'" alt="'YOU'RE TRESPASSERS AND THIEVES.'" /> 'YOU'RE TRESPASSERS AND THIEVES.'</div> It was at this juncture Mona stepped up. Directly she appeared, Jill dashed forward. "Look at these men, they've pulled down our stones! They did it on purpose! They saw the board and they laughed at it. They are cheeking us now." [194] "Hush!" said Mona. Then turning to the men she asked very quietly, "Are you working for me?" The elder touched his cap. "Yes, ma'am—leastways for Mr. Courtney." "What did Mr. Courtney tell you to do?" "To make good that there stone wall, ma'am." "Then why are you here?" "We thought best to take what stones we could from here?" "That was quite unnecessary. You had better put together that pile that you have destroyed. I will wait here till you have done it." But Jill objected. "They shan't touch one of them with their dirty hands! I will do it myself. Oh, Mona, it's a shame of them! They deserve a good thrashing. If I were a man I would give it to them!" Mona put her hand on Jill's shoulder. "Gently, dear! I am sorry about it, but they did not understand. If you don't want them here they can return to their work!" "I never wish to see them again," was the vehement retort. "I—I—feel like Elijah. I [195] should like to call down fire from heaven to burn them up!" Jill's passion was great. Mona wisely said nothing till the workmen had disappeared, then she remarked— "When you have put your pile of stones straight, Jill, you can run and find Sam for me. I will tell him to make a little fence round this, and then you will have no more trespassers." She walked away, for she judged rightly that work would soon subdue Jill's excitement. The idea of the fence delighted the children, and they set to work with a will. "Nobody dared to touch Jacob's stones, I know," said Jill; who could not quite get over the act of sacrilege, as she considered it. "Well," observed Jack, "the Bible mightn't tell about it, you see. He had no fence." "I know it was always there," persisted Jill, "because Miss Falkner told me that Jacob went back there after, and made a proper altar." "Yes," said Jack triumphantly; "because the other one had been knocked down. Of course he did." Jill pondered, as she tried to build up the stones in a tidy form. [196] "Then," she said, "we must have a proper altar, and I'll get some of the mortar that those horrid men are using for their wall. We'll wait till they have gone to their tea, and then we'll do it." A resolve once taken by Jill was generally carried out. The three children came in to their school-room tea triumphant. "We've been building," announced Bumps, "and the thtones are all thtucked together!" "And Sam is going to make a fence round, and no one will be let in!" added Jack: "And if the clergyman that's coming isn't nice, I've thought of a lovely plan for our bag; but it's a secret, and I'll tell you, Miss Falkner, to-night when I'm in bed!" Miss Falkner asked for an explanation of these fragmentary sentences, and her little pupils gradually enlightened her. When Jill was in bed, she made her governess stoop down, and putting her arms round her neck, whispered— "I've left a hole amongst the stones at the back, and I can cover it up by fixing in a loose stone. So I thought my red bag would go in beautifully, and then it would really be taken care of by God Himself. It couldn't be in a nicer place, could it? It would be like the ark [197] in the tabernacle—in a holy place. And I'm not going to tell Bumps or Jack. Jack tells Bumps everything, and Bumps tells everybody else!" Miss Falkner looked rather doubtful over the wisdom of this, but Jill seemed in such delight over the idea that she had not the heart to damp her spirits. But before leaving her, she said very gently— "How has your walk been to-day, Jill? A few stumbles, I am afraid." "Yes," whispered Jill. "I've told God I was sorry, only I was what the Bible calls 'righteously angry.' I would like to have called down fire from heaven upon those men. I told Mona so." "But Jill, that was not 'righteous' at all. The men made a mistake. You should have spoken gently to them." "No," said Jill, "they meant to do it, and they laughed at it, and I believe Sam's father is as bad. Since his cabbages are gone, he won't pay up his tenth, and he says we have a heathen altar!" Jill's cheeks began to get hot and red. Miss Falkner stooped down and kissed her. "If your Bethel is going to make you get [198] angry—if it makes you trip and stumble on your way to the Golden City, it had better be destroyed at once." Jill looked up with big eyes. "Oh, Miss Falkner! How can you?" "You mustn't make an idol of it, Jill, or you will be the heathen. You grieve Jesus Christ by your hot temper. Perhaps you think more of your 'Bethel' than you do of Him!" "I'm afraid I did to-day," acknowledged Jill with shame. Then when her governess had left her, she put down her hot cheek upon the pillow, and murmured, "I'm afraid it wasn't 'righteous' anger after all." The Christmas holidays came and went. Mona was much more with her little brother and sisters in Miss Falkner's absence. Every morning she came into the school-room, and had the Bible-reading with them. They got into many scrapes in their leisure moments, but on the whole were far better behaved than formerly. In the beginning of the New Year the "Bethel Mission-room" was opened. Perhaps to the inhabitants of Chilton Common it lacked a little of the excitement and gaiety with which it had been painted by Jack and Jill; but it was a very enjoyable day to all, and a sit-down [199] tea was given to young and old, at which, of course, Jill was very much to the fore. Mr. Errington left very soon afterwards, and for two months his successor was not known. Then one afternoon, when the children were roasting chestnuts over the school-room fire, and Miss Falkner was writing a letter to her mother, Mona appeared at the door. "I want to introduce our new vicar," she said very quietly. The children jumped up from the hearth-rug in the greatest state of excitement. "Why!" exclaimed Jill, as a tall broad-shouldered figure followed their sister into the room, "it's the trespasser!" "Yes, I am afraid it is," said Mr. Arnold in his deep and hearty voice. "But we parted friends, did we not?" "I should think we did just! Why we would rather have you as our clergyman than any one else in the whole world!" "Come! That's satisfactory. I did not think I would have so warm a welcome!" "Do you like chestnuts?" asked Jack, holding out a charred one between two grubby fingers. "Don't I?" [200] In a moment Mr. Arnold was down on the rug like a school-boy, and the children's tongues went fast. Mona looked on smiling; then she said to Miss Falkner— "What is the fascination of roasting chestnuts, I wonder. Why do all children love it so? You burn your fingers and the chestnuts, eat more ashes than anything else, and scorch your face to pieces!" "I think it is the love of cooking them," said Miss Falkner. "It is the danger and difficulty surrounding the undertaking," said Mr. Arnold, rescuing two chestnuts that had rolled over into the fire. "Difficulties stimulate children, they do not deter them." "I wish," said Mona thoughtfully, "they always stimulated me." Mr. Arnold looked at her, but Jill broke in impetuously. "Do you know about the Bethel Mission-room, Mr. Arnold? Will you go there on Sunday and preach to the people?" He nodded. "Yes, I have heard all about it from Mr. Errington, also about a certain red bag." "Ah!" exclaimed Jack; "Jill has hidden that bag away somewhere since Mr. Errington [201] went. I say it isn't fair, and Bumps and I aren't going to give her any more money till she tells us where it is." "Yeth," echoed Bumps, "and we've looked everywhere, and Jill says, she won't give it to another clergyman unleth he is nith!" "Am I nice?" asked Mr. Arnold, with one of his sudden smiles. Jill looked at him gravely. "I will bring it to you every Saturday," she said, "even if there's only a few half-pennies. But Sam gives us two shillings, and Annie threepence, and Norah and Rose give us some when we see them, so sometimes we have quite a lot. Only you'll tell us what you're going to do with it, won't you?" "Indeed, I will. We will have a long talk about it." "And how are all your boys and girls?" asked Jill. Mr. Arnold's face shadowed instantly. He was looking ill and careworn; it was only in talking to the children that his face lightened up. "Ah," he said; "my poor people! Don't remind me of them. Nothing but the doctor's orders would have made me leave them." [202] Then speaking to Miss Falkner, he said— "I have been ill, otherwise you would not have seen me here. As it is, I fear I shall not find sufficient scope for my energies!" "You have over a thousand in your parish," said Mona, "and Chilton Common and other outlying districts in addition. I should think there was scope enough for one man's energies, especially as that man has already had a serious breakdown. Now come and have some tea. Miss Webb will wonder what we are doing." Mona carried him off, and the children did not see him again for some time. "Miss Falkner," asked Jill one day, "why doesn't Miss Webb like Mr. Arnold? She doesn't, you know." "Nonsense, Jill, you mustn't have such fancies." "But it isn't fancy. I was looking at Punch in the drawing-room window seat yesterday, and Miss Webb said to Mona, 'Well, all I can say is, that I wish Cecil Arnold had rather gone to Timbuctoo than come here.' And Mona said, 'Nonsense!' like you said just now, and Miss Webb said, 'I see the end. I shouldn't have been afraid a year ago.' And then she [203] said she was sorry for poor Sir Henry Talbot. Now what did she mean, Miss Falkner? What is the end going to be?" "You shouldn't listen to grown-up people's talk, Jill." "But I couldn't help hearing." "Then you should never repeat what you hear." Jill subsided. Mr. Arnold delighted Jill's heart a few Sundays after his arrival by taking for his text the words: "Then the people rejoiced, for that they offered willingly, because with perfect heart they offered willingly to the Lord. "But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly after this sort, for all things come of Thee and of Thine own have we given Thee." He spoke of the different things people received from God, and how very few of them they offered back, and then in plain and simple words he touched upon the system of tenth-giving. "There is not a little boy or girl in this church, however poor; there is not a landed proprietor, however rich, who cannot side by side give this small portion of what they receive to the service of God. The poorest labourer [204] can spare a tenth; he will be blessed in giving it, and joy will be his portion." And then he astonished his congregation by saying he would be in his vestry every Saturday evening from six to eight, to accept the tenths of any of his parishioners who liked to bring them to him. There was great discussion amongst his congregation afterwards. "I have no patience with these new-fangled notions," said Miss Webb. "Cecil always did ride a hobby, and this money question is utterly ridiculous. We are not Jews, thank goodness!" "I think he is right," said Mona quietly. "Oh, of course you do, my dear. He will be able to twist you round his little finger now." Mona was silent. Jill burst in opportunely— "I shall take my red bag every Saturday to him, Mona. I wonder if anybody else will be there." "You and your red bag are at the bottom of it all I do believe, Jill!" said Miss Webb laughing. "This wonderful Bethel of yours is turning every one crazy!" Jill did not like to be laughed at. She walked on with dignity, and did not mention the subject again. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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