THAT OTHER HOUSE; OR THE UNSOLD TICKET.

Otago Witness, Issue 2250, 15 April 1897, Page 51

THAT OTHER HOUSE; OR THE UNSOLD TICKET.

By Ada a. R Ludfokd. To and fro, to and fro— heir the tiead of little children As they go, as they go, bupy march of busy feet! Here and there, everywhere, joyous BODgs are singing ; Loud and clear, full of cheer, merry tones arg ringing. To aud fro, to and fro— hark ! the tread of little childieu — As they go, as they go— busy march of busy feet— Thro' tho world, thro' the world, doir>g angels' '«• (\uty ; Bright and fair, bright and fair, robed in angels' beauty. To and fro, to and fro— hark ! the tread of little children As they "go, as they go, busy march of busy feet.

— Hymn. A large, richly-furnished drawing room — costly, picture-bedecked walls, low, easy, dainty chairs, carpet and rugs on which the harshest footfall would sink noiselessly as the fall oE a feather, a handsome walnut piano in the far corner, beside which stood a low blue shot-velvet chair, and on the chair lay a doll — a dirty-faced, half- clothed, onearmed doll. The blinds of the bay window facing the public street were drawn their fall length down, in order, probably, to prevent tlie sun throwing his fierce heat into the room ; but those ot the other window, looking out into the large, smooth tennis court, were only half drawn down. Here and there Btood pretty hand-painted Tases, containing big yellow daffodils and red and white rose?, and on a jet black bracket in one corner stood a dainty green bowl holding a few sprays of the frail lily of the valley. The stately ferns standing on either tide of the screened fireplace, tall, green, and cool, gave one that delicious, half drowsy, wholly grateful feeling one experiences when after havirg walked miles in the scorching summer bud, one finds oneself in the middle of a buah— a new Zealand bush with its rippling streams, curling fern?, bright rata flowers, red tutu berries, soft green mosses, wild, white star creepers, &c. How quiet and Btill everything seemed. Graceful ferns and beautiful white albion lilies stood on the hall table and at the foot of the soft, richlycarpeted stairs. 41 Ah," thought Miss Ross, as she stood in mute admiration of the lovely scene around her, " the hearts of the owners of this beautiful home must, indeed, be full to the biim; they can have no wish on earth unfulfilled." And yet there was an indefinable something wanting, something missing ; the magnificent lofty room, the spacious hal!, ssemed strangely quiet, almost solemn. The handsome stairs with its pile carpet and bright golden rods, the very ferns and white lilies seemed to be waiting and listening in painful golitude. There was not a click or. a sound in the great house. What could bs missing ? Ab, where were the bright eyes, laughing faces, and pattering feet of the children? Where could the children be 1 There must be at least one sweet little face somewhere in the house if we could only find ifc, or to whom did the one-armed doll in the blue velvet chair bj the piano belong? And Miss Rose

pictured to herself the merry, mischievous glances cast over the shoulders of the children as they toddled up aud down the broad stairs, the patter of childish feet, the clamour of child voices resounding through the lofty rooms and spacious balls and corridors of the great house that would make it a very paradise on earth. Miss Ross had b?en selling tickets for a select concert to take placa shortly. She had sold 11, and was exceedingly anxious to get rid of the last remaining one, and somehow as she sat waiting in this large silent room her thoughts strayed back to a house she bad visited only an hour ago. In answer to her knock the door had been opened by a tired-looking woman, who bade her enter, and now, looking round at the rich carpets, ings, and elegant furniture about her, she could not help contrasting it all with the well-worn oilcloth, plain cane chair?, and shabby yellow doer mats of that other house. The cireworn little woman said " she could not afford to purchase reserved seat tickets for select concerts." She passed her hand across her brow with a. weary gesture as Miss Ross rose to go, and said she was too tired almost for anything, when a door somswhere slammed, and instantly ther<s was a. babble of little voices laughing and talking, accompanied by ■ the well-known tread of child feat, and a beautiful, almost holy look stole into the tired face of the weary woman at her side as with upraised finger and head bent forward she said softly, " Hark I it is the children," and she was suddenly surrounded by four eager upturned faces and eight sparkling eyes, as with excited voices they all tried to i speak together. The weary look on mother's face changed to one of lender pride. " God bless the children ! " said Miss Ross as . she closed the gate behind hero, bavin? left ! the price of tha uoeoM ticket in one of their ! chubby little bands. A few yards up- the ! street she passed n tall man, who was evidently on his way home after the long day's toil. He also wore a tired expression, and Miss Ross as he passed her had a sort of intuition that he was the father of the little one? she had just left. She was right, and as he opened the door she knew that he would be met instantly by the pure little : faces, while gentle bahy hands would smooth away the work wrinkles from his brow, and soon afterwardß tho tiokot-seller found her- | self in tha grsac quiet, house with the unsold ticket still in her right hand. How painfully still it was. Where could the owner of the dirty-faced doll be 1 The | fine old pictures of "Mary Qaeen of Scots," ! the " Battle of Waterloo," and many others , would have possessed twice their attractiveI ness aud interest had there only been children I near to pass their criticisms on them and give vent in their beautiful frank, childish way to tbeir admiration of the pretty lady with the 1 crucifix in her hand or of the brave, big ( soldiers. What does the stupid butler mean | by not sending someone to me all this time? • thought Miss Ross. She was growing restless ■ and impatient under the strain of the intense , stillness and loneliness, when suddenly. a door opened in tho corridor above her. "At last," sho exclaimed joyously, jumping up as fact decendsd the stairs. " Now you stately old house, you will at last seem comj plete with the rambling feet and merry, 1 laughing faces cf children about you." She sprang lowarda tha door in order not to miss the beautiful sight of the childish forms ' on the bonny stairs, bub recoiled in horror aa ' she saw two hatless men in biack coming slowly dowu, bearing between them something long and narrow, covered with white silk and strewn with wreaths of white ; flowers. Nearer and nearer it came, while i Miss Rofb stood transfixed to the spot. As ' they bore it past her and out of the hall door she sank on her knees and buried her face in one of the velvet ohairs. The sound of a i woman's heart-broken sobs startled her suddenly, and, rising quickly, she drew | within the recesses of the velvet window curtains as a woman came moaning like a wounded animal into the room. With a white, agonised face she 6taggered towards I the window, and, lifting the blind, looked I out on tbo crowds of people thronged round { the gate. For one moment her sgonised i eyes rested on the quickly-vanishing little ! coffin; then, throwing up her arms, she cried ' piteouely, " Ob, my little girl ! my only child ! : my darling ! come back, come back to me 1 " | Suddenly her grz3 fell on the blue velvet • chair by the piano. The next minute she j was clasping a half-clothed, one-aimed doll wildly to her breast ; then without cry or warning she fell senseless to the floor. j Palling loudly for help, Miss Ross sprarg j from her hiding place and raised the unj conscious woman's head ; then when they ! bad lifted her on to the couch and the doctor was bending over her tho ticket- ' seller crept sorrowfully out and softly closed '■ the door behind her, with the unsold ticket clasped unheeded in her hand. As she drew near that other houee on her way home sbe noticed that tbe door stood wide open, and heard the merry patter of children's feet up and down the well-worn I oilcloth in the hall. Suddenly about thirtyI six inches of humanity, with a mischievous face and jaßt tbe tiniest tantalisirg bit of two naked, fat, little feet peeping beneath her long, white nightdress, appeared in the doorway. Behind her stole three wicked little fairies, alao in locg white robes, bearing something soft and woolly between them, striving almost vainly meanwhile to resist the elfieh laughter which tbe watcher could detect playing bide and seek in every crevice and dimple on their sweec little faces. Ob, unexpected event I Suddenly the " something " they were carrying, which happened to be nothing less than the yellow door mat, came flyiDg on top cf their sister's unconscious curls. Scream after scream filled the air as the recipient of the mat flew down the passage in hot pursuit after the plunging, dodging regiment, the door mat, of course, bringing up the- rear. Back they csme the next minute, screaming, laughing, and scrimmagj ing like a set of kittens with a ball of worsted. ■ Each child strugg'ed right bravely for the sole possession of the mat, on to which four pairs of hands clung with a determination that might have called forth the admiration of any British soldier. " Come tp bed now, you kittens," called their proud mamma from tbe bedroom door, but they took no heed. •' You'll be hurt presently, one of you. Coma to bed at once." But the disrespectfal young Tarks con-

tinued their scrimmage over tha poor mat i£ possible with more vigour than before, when a dark form came stealthily, softly behind them, and lifting them bodily, the whole four, with the yellow door mat in the centre, their, father bore them, half laughing, half crying, struggling, and kicking, into their little bedroom, where the door was probably locked and the key placed in the depths of that— what is always to children — " wonderland " pocket of mother's.

As Miss Ross walked on her thoughts wandered back to the great house v/bich she had left only a short time before, with its stately halls and corridors, its beautifnl carpets, rug?, and pictures, its pretty velvet chairs, and its lovely ferns and liliep, wbicb seemed to be waiting and listening with never wearying patience for the soft, loving touch of rcsy child fingers and the pattering of little feet they would never, never feel or hear again. Iv the distance she still heard the merry laughter of the little ones in that other house, and words something like this came floating through her brain, "To him that hath shall ba given, and from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath."

As she lifted the latch of her own gate sbe heard a voice at her elbow saying pathetically, " Please, lady, will you buy some nice fresh watercresses ? I've only sold twopenn'orth all day, lady."

A small ragged boy stood before her holding a few crestfallen-looking bunches of cresces in an enormous basket.

" Wouid you like to go to a concert tonight ? " asked Miss Ross.

" Concert 1 You bet 1 Bonser I " ho answered eagerly.

" Here you are, then," she said, giving him the ticket through trying to sell which she bad witnessed such a beautiful home drama aEd Euch a sorrowful one. "Take care and don't lose it."