Poppy's Presents

It was a large green apple.

'Why, Jack,' said Poppy, 'where did you get it? It's a funny time of year to get an apple; I didn't know there was any left.'

'No, it's a real curiosity,' said Jack, 'and I said to myself when I got it, "Poppy shall have that big 'un; she was such a plucky girl that night in the tower—she never whimpered nor nothing." So I tied him up in that handkercher, and there he is.'

'Thank you so much, dear Jack,' said Poppy gratefully. 'But however did you get it?'

'Why it was old Sellers, the greengrocer, gave him to me,' said Jack,—'him as has a shop in Newcastle Street; he called me in and he says, "Do you want a job, my lad?" and when I told him "Yes, I do," he set me to clean out his apple-room, where he stores his apples in winter. So he took me in, and it was a sight—such a sight as you never saw, Poppy! Scores of 'em all rotten and smelling. Ay, they were horrid!' said Jack, making a face, 'all but half a dozen that were quite good. Well, I picked 'em out, Poppy, and took 'em to old Sellers, and he gave me half of 'em: so I ate one myself, and I gave one to Sally, and I kept the biggest of 'em all for you.'

'It was good of you, Jack,' said Poppy.

'Well, eat it then,' said the boy—'they're very nice—as good as can be,' and he smacked his lips at the recollection.

But Poppy had rolled her apple up in her pinafore, and did not seem inclined to begin to eat it.

'Whatever are you keeping it for?' said Jack, in rather a disappointed voice.

'Jack,' said Poppy, stopping short, and looking up in his face, 'is it for my very own?'

'Why, yes, Poppy—of course.'

'To do just whatever I like with it?'

'Why, yes, of course,' said Jack again.

'Then I shall give it to my grandmother,' said Poppy; 'she's come to-day, and she's ever so good to us; and God sent her, and she's cleaned the house beautiful. I shall give it to my grandmother, Jack.'

'All right,' he said; 'only I'd like you to have just one bite yourself, Poppy, to see how good it is.'

He was quite satisfied when Poppy promised to ask her grandmother to give her the last bite; and the little girl hastened home, feeling very happy, and picturing out to herself what a great treat that big apple would be to the old woman.

'Here,' she said, holding it out to her, 'it's all for you, grandmother—only Jack wants me just to have the last bite.'

'All for me,' repeated the old woman, as she looked up from the work she had in her hand—a little old torn frock of Poppy's, which she was mending.

'Yes,' said the child, 'all for you.'

'Well, it's a beauty, I'm sure!' said grandmother, turning it over in her hand; 'but you see, my dear, many's the long day since I've eat an apple. Why, my little lass, what can an old body with only two teeth do?'

'Do try, granny,' said Poppy, holding the apple to her mouth; 'it isn't so very hard, and Jack says it's so good. Do try!'

CHAPTER X

THE MOTHER'S LEGACY

And grandmother did try—for she did not want to disappoint Poppy. But somehow the two teeth would not go into the apple; they were too far apart, and there were no teeth below to help them; and so, after many attempts, the poor old woman was obliged to say she was afraid she could not manage it.

'If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again. That's a good rule, my dear; but it doesn't always answer, Poppy. But I'll tell you what, my little girl,' said she, as she noticed how disappointed the child was, 'I'll put it in the oven and bake it for my supper, and then I shall have a treat!'

'Oh, granny, I'm so glad!' said Poppy, throwing her arms around her neck—'I do love you so very much—you are so good to me!'

'Why, you're John Henry's bairn,' said granny, as she held her fast in her arms—'how could I help loving John Henry's bairn?'

'Polly, my dear,' said grandmother the next day to Poppy's mother, 'Polly, my dear, I'm going to take you home with me.'

But the sick woman shook her head.

'Don't shake your head, my dear,' said grandmother; 'I believe if I could put you down on the top of the moors, and if you could get the breezes off the heather, why, my lass, I believe you'd get well in no time!'

'You must ask the doctor, grandmother,' said Poppy's mother; 'he is coming to-day.'

So when the doctor had paid his usual visit, grandmother trotted after him downstairs.

'Now, doctor,' said she, 'I'll tell you what I'm going to do; I'm going to take her home with me. Country air is the best physic after all, now isn't it, doctor? You can't say anything against that, I'll be bound!'

But the doctor shook his head.

'Dear me, doctor,' said grandmother, 'don't you go and shake your head. Surely she'll be well enough to go in a week or ten days. Or maybe a fortnight or three weeks, doctor,' she added, as she saw that he looked very grave.

'My good woman,' said the doctor, 'you don't know how ill she is! It is only a question of time now.'

'You don't mean to say, doctor,' said grandmother, 'that she won't get better?'

'She may live a week,' said the doctor, as he put on his hat, 'but I do not think she will live so long.'

Poor old grandmother, it was a great downfall to her hopes; she had thought, and hoped, and believed, that the country air would soon make John Henry's wife well again, and now she was told that she had only a few days to live.

She could not go upstairs with such news as that. So she bustled about the kitchen, pretending to be busy, washing up the tea-things, and sweeping the fireside, and stopping every now and then to wipe away the tears that would come in her eyes. And all this time Poppy's mother was waiting, and listening, and wondering why grandmother did not come to tell her what the doctor had said.

At last she could wait no longer, but rapped on the floor with the stick which grandmother had put by her bedside.

Slowly, very slowly, the old woman went upstairs. But even when she was in the bedroom, she did not seem inclined to talk, but began to wash Enoch and Elijah, and never turned her face towards her daughter-in-law, lest she should see how tearful her eyes were.

'Grandmother,' said Poppy's mother at last, 'tell me what the doctor said.'

'He won't let me take you away, my lass,' said grandmother, shortly.

'Does he think I shall not live long?' asked the sick woman. 'Tell me what he said, grandmother, please.'

'He said you might perhaps live a week, my dear,' said grandmother, bursting into tears, and rocking Enoch and Elijah in her arms.

Poppy's mother did not speak, but she did just what king Hezekiah did when he got a similar message, she turned her face to the wall. Grandmother did not dare to look at her for some time, and when she did she saw that her pillow was wet with tears.

'Poor lass, poor lass!' she said tenderly; 'no wonder ye cannot help fretting; it's a fearsome thing to die, it is indeed.'

'Oh, it isn't that, grandmother,' said Poppy's mother; 'it isn't that. I was thinking about the poor children.'

'And what about the children, bless 'em?' said the old woman.