yes, sir,” said she; “I’ll go; that is, if I may come back this evening – for I couldn’t disappoint Freddy and all of them, you know!”
“They shan’t be disappointed, I promise you,” said Mr. Rogers, as he took her down stairs.
“Why, I never was in a carriage in all my life,” said Sweetie, as he lifted her into his beautiful clarence, and sat down beside her.
“I shouldn’t wonder if you should ride in a carriage pretty often now,” said Mr. Rogers, “for your ship’s coming in.”
Sweetie couldn’t tell whether she was in a dream or not. Half crying, half laughing, her face flushed with surprise, she asked, —
“How did you know?”
“Know what?” said her friend, enjoying her bewilderment.
“Why,” she answered, “about the way I keep up the children’s spirits, and make them forget they are hungry and cold, while I tell them about my ship coming in?”
“A little bird told me,” said he, and then was quiet.
Sweetie did not like to ask any more; so she sat quite still, leaning back in one corner of the carriage, among the soft, crimson cushions, and watched the people in the street, thinking how happy she was, and how strange it was that little Katie Lawson should be riding with a grand gentleman in a splendid carriage!
Suddenly, with a whirl and a turn, they stopped before a house. Mr. Rogers lifted her out, and led her up the broad steps; and she found he was taking her into the beautiful white house, under the windows of which she had sat with Willie and Fred the day before.
“Now,” said Mr. Rogers, rolling a comfortable arm-chair for Sweetie in front of a glowing fire, “while you are getting warm, and eating your dinner, I am going to tell you about my Christmas tree, and how your ship came in.”
A little table was brought in, and set between them, filled with so many delicacies, that Sweetie’s head grew dizzy at the sight. She thought of her little hungry brothers and sister, and would rather not have eaten, but Mr. Rogers made her.
“My little girl,” said he, finally, “never forget this: God always rewards a faithful heart. If he seems to be a long time without caring for his children, he never forgets or forsakes them.”
Then he told her that he had overheard her conversation with her brothers under his window, and that God had suddenly put it into his heart to take care of some of the poor and fatherless in that great city. “And I am going to begin with Sweetie,” said he, very tenderly; “and this is the way her ship shall come in. She shall have a new home to give to her mother for a Christmas present, and the boys shall sing their Christmas hymns to-night in the bright little parlor of the corner store, instead of the dingy old garret; and here are the deeds made out in Katie Lawson’s own name, and nobody can take it away from her. But come, little woman,” he added, – for Sweetie was sobbing for joy, and could not thank him, – “go and wash your face, for the horses are tired of standing in the cold, and we must go and fetch the boys, or I shall never get my Christmas tree set up.”
An old lady, with a face beaming with kindness, – it was Mr. Rogers’s housekeeper, – then took Sweetie, and not only washed her tear-stained cheeks, but curled her soft brown hair, and put on her the loveliest blue dress, with boots to match. All the time she was dressing her, Sweetie, who could not believe her senses, kept murmuring, —
“It’s only a dream; it’s too good to be true; the boys won’t believe it, I know; it’s just like a fairy story, and, of course, it’s only pretending.”
“No, indeed,” said the old lady; “it’s really true, my dear, and I hope you’ll be so grateful and kind to Mr. Rogers that he won’t be so lonely as he has been without his own dear little children.”
Sweetie could hardly realize her own good fortune; and, when she went down into the parlor, she burst into tears again, saying, —
“O, sir, I can’t believe it. I am so happy!”
“So am I, Sweetie,” said Mr. Rogers; and really it was hard to tell which was the happier – it is always so much more blessed to give than to receive. Together they rode to the new home, and laughed and cried together as they went all over it. After they had been up stairs, and down stairs, and in my lady’s chamber, as Mr. Rogers said, he put her into the carriage again.
“James,” said he to the coachman, “you are under this young lady’s orders to-night, and must drive carefully.”
Then, kissing Sweetie, he put the key of her new home into her hand, and, telling her he should want her help to-morrow about his Christmas tree, he bade her good night.
James drove Sweetie home, for the last time, to the dilapidated old house. She ran up stairs, Freddy said afterwards, “just as Harry always did when he’d had a good day.” “Mother and children,” said she, “Mr. Rogers, the kind gentleman who was here, has sent me back in his carriage to take you all to see something beautiful he has been showing me. Harry, you be the gentleman of the house, and hand mother and Jennie to the carriage, and I’ll come right along.” She stopped long enough – this good child, who, even in her own good fortune, did not forget the misfortunes of others – to run into the next room, where an old woman lived, who was a cripple, and whose daughter supported her by sewing.
“Mrs. Jones,” said she, hurriedly, “a kind gentleman has given us a new home, and we are going to it to-night, never to come back here to live any more. Our old room, with the rent paid for a year, and all there is in it, I want you to take as a Christmas present from Sweetie; and I wish you a Happy, happy New Year, and please give this to Milly;” and, slipping a five-dollar bill, which Mr. Rogers had given her, into the old woman’s hand, she ran out, and jumped into the carriage. The street lamps blinked at them, like so many stars, as they rolled along, and the boys and Jennie screamed with delight; but Sweetie sat quite still.
James knew where to stop. Sweetie got out first, and ran and unlocked the door of the little corner store. When they were all inside, and before any one had time to ask a question, Sweetie threw her arms about her mother’s neck.
“Mother,” she cried, “Sweetie’s ship’s come in; but it never would have come if it had not been for Mr. Rogers; and it’s brought you this pretty house and shop for your own, and, please God, we’ll all have – ”
“A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” shouted Willie, ending her sentence just as she had ended the story the day before.
“And all the better,” said Fred, who remembered too, “because Christ was born that day.”
Mrs. Lawson, overwhelmed with joy, fainted. She soon recovered, however, though Sweetie insisted on her lying on the soft lounge before the fire, while she set the table. How pretty it looked, with its six purple and white plates, and cups and everything to match! How they did eat! How happy they were!
“Now,” said Mrs. Lawson, when the dishes were washed, and they all sat round the fire, “my little Sweetie, whose patience, and courage, and cheerfulness have kept up the hearts of the rest of us, and proved the ship that has brought us this cargo of comforts, you must tell us your Christmas story before we go to bed.”
So Sweetie told them all Mr. Rogers had said and done for her. They were so excited they sat up very late, and happiness made them sleep so soundly, that they did not wake till the sun was shining brightly into the little shop. People began
