Adventures of a Sixpence in Guernsey by A Native

The breakfast was ready laid on the table, and a gentleman was standing by the fire waiting for the rest of the family, when the door burst open, and two little girls ran in.

"A happy new year, papa!--a happy new year!" shouted each as she was caught up to be kissed, and found herself on the floor once more after a sudden whirl to the ceiling.

"Now catch," said their father, as he started aside and flung a sixpence to each.

Of course they did not catch, for little girls have a strange propensity for turning just the wrong way on such occasions; but the bright new sixpences were none the duller for their fall, and called forth none the less admiration from their proud owners.

Many were the calculations which passed through those curly heads during breakfast-time as to what a sixpence could buy; and it was with many bright visions that they darted away to be dressed to go into the town with their mother.

It was New-year's day; but there was no snow, no bitter cold wind, no beggars shivering in their scanty clothing, none of the scenes of poverty which those accustomed only to an English winter might expect to cast a gloom over the enjoyment of the day. It was a bright sunny morning, every leaf sparkling with dew-drops; groups of neatly-dressed people were to be seen flocking in from the country in every direction; and though the air was fresh enough to incline them to walk briskly along, their hands were not hidden away in muffs and coat-pockets, but were ready for the friendly shake which, with "all the good wishes of the season," awaited them at every step.

Mrs. Campbell and her little girls, after many a greeting of this kind, found their way into the town at last; and the children soon forgot everything in the twelfth-cakes which adorned the pastry-cooks' windows, till the sixpence, which was tightly clasped in each little hand, recalled them to their errand, and they joined the busy crowd in the toy-shop. Who does not know what it is to take a child into these abodes of Noah's arks, cats, dogs, mice, and dolls, and all that is so charming? How each toy is seized on in its turn, to be relinquished in a moment for one more beautiful! It was no easy task that Mrs. Campbell had undertaken; but at last, in a moment of ecstasy over two blue-eyed dolls, the sixpences were paid, and the young purchasers drawn away from further temptation. And we, too, must wish them good-by, with the hope that the next new year may find them bright and happy still, and that before many more have passed over them they will have learnt a wiser and a better way of spending their father's gift; a way in which their sixpence, though it be but a sixpence, will be returned in tenfold blessings on their heads.

It is with one of the little pieces of silver which have just rung in the till that we have to do. It had lain there for about two hours, the same scenes going on around it which we have witnessed with its owner of the morning, when a tall moustachioed young man entered the shop, which was not exclusively devoted to toys, and asked to be shown some gold pencil-cases. His choice was soon made, the money paid, and our friend the Sixpence received in change. Ah, Sixpence! what sort of hands have you fallen into now? We have undertaken to follow your fortunes for a time, and therefore, uncomfortable as our quarters may be, we must take up our abode with you in Captain Crawford's waistcoat-pocket, and go where he pleases to lead us. Up High Street and Smith Street to Grange Road, where we mount and away from houses and streets and the fashionable world; among the fields and hedges, just decking themselves with Daisies and Celandines, and every now and then, at the top of the many little hills which the road crosses, comes a peep of the bright blue sea, from which, go where we will, we can never get very far away in Guernsey. After a short ride, Captain Crawford pulled up his horse, and giving it into the care of a boy who answered his call, he walked down an avenue to a pretty rose-covered house, which he entered, and made his way to the drawing-room.

"Well, my little one, what have you been about all the morning?" was his greeting as he opened the door to a delicate-looking girl who lay on the sofa.

"Oh, Edward!" she answered, "I was just wishing for you. I feel rather better than usual to-day, and mamma says I may take a turn in the garden. I was only waiting for your arm. Will you ring for my bonnet?"

"Look, here is a New-year's gift for you, Ellen," said her brother, taking the gold pencil-case out of his pocket and hanging it on her chain.

"Oh! thanks--thanks, Edward!" she said warmly, as she pulled his head down to her, and threw her arms round his neck; "My own brother, how good of you! this is just what I wanted."

"I never yet knew you have anything which was not just what you wanted, Ellen. Is there anything in the world you wish for now?"

"No, I am very happy. You none of you give me an opportunity of wishing for anything; as soon as I wish, I have it. You all spoil me."

"I know what I wish," said her brother; "and that is, that I had your secret of finding everything so very comfortable. What is it, little one?"

He had seated himself by her side, and was stroking the hair back from her forehead, while she lay in quiet enjoyment of his gentle touch; but on hearing his last question she raised her large dark eyes, fixing them earnestly on his face for one moment, but without speaking. She was soon ready for her walk, and, leaning on her brother's arm, let him half carry half lead her out.

"Let us go to the gate, Edward," she said, when they reached the door; "the children will be coming out of school, and I may see some of my little friends."

They walked very slowly, and neither spoke for a few moments, till Ellen said, in rather a hurried tone, "I was wrong just now when I told you I never wished for anything; there is one thing I want very much, and which you can never give me."

"What is it?" asked her brother.

"To be able to live over again the twenty years of health which have just passed from me, and to have again all the money I spent in that time."

"Why, my dear Ellen," said Captain Crawford gaily, "you are the last person in the world to say anything of the sort. I am sure the greatest pleasure of your days of health was to take puddings and sixpences to old women; and if that is not a satisfactory way of spending one's time and money, I don't know what is. But really, Ellen," he said, more seriously, as he saw her grave face, "I do not see what reason you have to blame yourself, after such a life as yours has been. I should have thought the recollection of it would now have been your greatest comfort; and that, after taking care of others for so long, you might enjoy being taken care of yourself now. But, my little one! what is the matter?"

Ellen had stopped, and, with her head resting on his shoulder, was sobbing violently.

"Edward, don't!" she said, as soon as she could command herself; "I can't bear it! Think of the handsome allowance papa makes me, and how little of it has been well spent! And then, what was given away did not do a quarter of the good it might have done, because I did not go and give it myself, and kind words with it, which are far more comforting than food or money. And if you will believe me, Edward, extravagance has become such a habit with me, that though I resolved last quarter to be economical and save up something for the new church, I had hardly anything left at the end of it. It is true I did teach at the school a little, and visit a few people, but what is that compared to what I ought to have done?"

By this time they had reached the gate, and Ellen, drying her tears, was soon talking almost merrily with the children, who ran up eagerly at the sight of their former teacher. Edward had forgotten the little Guernsey French he had once known, and stood by, glad to see his favourite sister so happy; but wondering what pleasure she could find in talking to a set of dirty little things like those. Captain Crawford called them dirty, because most officers in her Majesty's service, if they think on the subject at all, think rags and dirtiness necessary attendants on poor children; but if Captain Crawford had looked, he would have seen as clean and neat a flock of little ones around his sister as the United Kingdom could produce.

Just as they were going to return to the house a man passed by, and touched his hat to Miss Crawford in the somewhat off-hand manner which (we must confess it) our fellow-countrymen usually employ. Ellen stopped a moment to make some inquiries of him about his wife and children, and then turned home-wards, saying, as she took her brother's arm,--

"I dare say a good dinner would do that man's daughter a world of good; she is ill, and they are very poor: but then there is no way of sending it."

"Where do they live?" asked Edward.

"Oh, it is half-an-hour's walk: they live close to the beach."

"I'll take it," said he; and added, by way of apology, "I should rather like a walk before dinner."

A happy gleam passed over Ellen's face, but she only said,--

"Thank you, Edward," and gave him one very bright look, when he left her on her sofa and went to fetch some meat for the sick girl.

It was with feelings of amusement, rather than anything else, that Edward set out on what was probably the first errand of mercy he had ever undertaken. He had done it merely to please his sister, and could not help laughing at the idea of what some of his brother-officers would say if they could see Crawford of the ---- Regiment carrying food to a sick girl. But his conversation with Ellen soon returned to his mind, and the thought struck him, "If my good, unselfish little sister, thinks her time and money have been wasted, what have mine been? According to her, the sixpence which I have occasionally thrown to a beggar to quiet my conscience was only half charity, because I did not add 'kind words,' as she would say. But I wonder what people would say if I were to inquire after the birth, parentage, and education of every street-sweeper I came across? No, my vocation is to defend my Queen and country, and not to act the charitable." Something whispered, "Cannot you do both?" but Edward would not listen, and soon arrived at his destination. The door was opened by the sick girl's mother, who, with her "_Bon jour, monsieur! Entrez, s'il vous plait_," took Edward rather by surprise, and would by no means hear of receiving the gift outside the door. This was more than he had bargained for; he had come on a message from Ellen, not for a charitable visit on her own account: but there was no alternative, and go in he must. The woman spoke a little English; and while she poured forth her gratitude to Miss Crawford, together with a long account of her daughter's maladies, saying so much in one breath that it became a question whether she would ever breathe again, Captain Crawford looked at the sick girl lying pale and thin by the fire; and when he thought how miserable her lot was compared even with his sister's, whose sufferings were soothed by all that affection could suggest or that money could buy, his heart--for he had a heart, and a warm one too--was touched, and his hand went to the waistcoat pocket where the sixpence had been deposited in the morning. He was disappointed to find so little there, and wondered whether it was worth giving her. "If Ellen were here to add some of her 'kind words,'" he thought, it might do very well; "however, I'll try."