AUNT JUDY’S TALES.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 11, 18 March 1905, Page 56

AUNT JUDY’S TALES.

WILFUL JESSIE.

By

S. L. HEWARD.

“Ob. dear she is horrid. I wish she’d never- conic!” cried Gladys, stamping her foot. “I never used to get in tempers like this before she was here!” and the angry girl burst into tears. “Never mind,” said Reggie, soothingly, “they’ll find out Low naughty she is some day, and then she’ll be sent away. But haw could she say such things about darling mother!” he added, fiercely.

“Aud site can be so nice sometimes,” added Gladys. “But when she gets into these teasing moods she doesn’t care what she says.” “Never mind; let her go her own way, and we’ll go up in our garret room, and she won’t be able to find us."

Gladys ran off to fetch her books and doll-dressing arrangements; Reggio took his painting and carving, and they were soon so absorbed in their occupations as to forget there was such a. thing as a disagreeable cousin. Meantime, Jessie, in direct opposition to her aunt’s wish, had gone out of the house, and was making her way up the fell, at the foot of which Oakdene House stood. She was very spoilt, and had had her own way for so long that she understood very little about giving way or believing that elder people knew better than she did. The sun was shining, so why shouldn’t she go for a walk up the hill if she liked? So she took a piece of cake and some biscuits and coaxed cook to give her some sandwiches and started of. It was vei-y lovely up there, with the. spring ah- blowing about her, the sun shining, and the birds and bees singing in their different ways; and she thought contemptuously of her aunt’s caution, and went gaily up and lip, determined not to go back until she bad reached the highest point that could be seen from the house.

‘Then they’ll be sorry they did not come, too!” she said.

For some time she followed the course of a little stream or beck, but finding it led away from her path, left it, and faced directly up the hill. On and on she went, until suddenly the sun disappeared. She looked round with a start,

and saw. rather to her dismay, that clouds had gathered about her and below her, and she could see no sign of the house or village she had left. While she was thinking about it a large drop of rain fell. It was followed by another and another, until it was coming down sharply. “It is only a shower,” she thought, and looked about for a rock or a shed behind which she could shelter. There were plenty down below, but Jessie would not turn back; and before she could find what she sought, the rain was coming down in sueh a blinding sheet? that she could hardly see a couple of yards before her. In ten minutes she was experiencing the discomfort of being wet through, of feeling that she had completely lost her way, and that until the. rain stopped there was no hope of finding it. To add to her troubles, her shoes, which were never made for country walking, were sodden with the wet and cut with the stones, and she began to think she could not walk any further. Just when she was in dispair she caught sight of a sort of lean-to-shed, protected by a boulder, and thought she might find shelter there until the worst of the storm was over- When she opened the door, which was only closed with a latch, she found that although there was no one in it now, it had been inhabited very recently. The fire was still warm on the hearth, and a box of matches and a candle in a bottle stood at a convenient corner of a rough table, ready for the hand of the owner when ho should return. Jessie gladly shut the door behind her, and set herself to rouse up the fire. There was plenty of firewood and a great stack of peats. Jessie knew nothing about peats, except what she had read in stories, so she tried to make a wood fire. But the pieces were so small and

burnt out so quickly that she despaired of getting dry in that way. So she ventured to put on one or two of the peats and soon found the difference. Meantime the rain was coming down harder than ever, and Jessie began to wonder how long she would have to stop there. Her,hat and shoes were ruined, the greater part of "her provisions was already gone, and it seemed equally difficult to stay in the cottage or to leave it. Presently she heard a rushing sound. She ran to the door, and there was a huge torrent of brown water rushing down the hillside, and threatening to overwhelm the cottage in its headlong career. Hardly knowing what she did, Jessie shut the door and waited in terror. The spate struck against tha shoulder of the rock which protected the hut, and glanced to one side, rushing past the doorway at less than a yard’s distance. For a long time she stood watching it. It was a grand sight, but it kept her a prisoner. She could not leave the cottage so long as that waste of wild water was tearing past the door. She turned back to her seat by the fire, cold, tired, hungry, and now for the first time a little bit frightened. To her, used to the life of a town, it was horrible to bo alone, like this, and the more she thought of her hopeless position the more site cried. Would she really have to stop there all night? What should she do? Her clothing was nearly dry at last, but she bad finished up all her provisions. It was not much to serve for lunch, dinner ,and tea, and Jessie had never gone without a meal in her life. By this time her pride was broken down, and she heartily wished she had not disobeyed her aunt. She even acknowledged that her aunt knew: better than she did about some things—• mountains, for instance. At last it began to grow dark, and driven by her hun-

ger, Jessie ventured to open a little cupboard on one side of the fireplace. Then' were two scones, very stale and dry, but more welcome to the lost girl than the daintiest meal she had ever eaten; and for the first time in her life, perhaps, she began to think pityingly of children who never had enough to eat. and she

made up her mind that if ever she reached home again, she would try to think more of other people and less of herself. She found herself remembering how gentle and kind Gladys was to iter brother and sister, giving up her own pleasure very often to please them. Jessie had scoffed at her for it more than once, now it seemed quite beautiful. And further, now that she had time to think, and really nothing else to do but think, she wondered who would be sorry if she never went home again; and she was obliged to own that, although some people might be sorry, it w«>ui(l be because they were kind and loving, not because she had done anything to help them and to make them happier. By this time it was quite dark, and though the water was rushing past as furiously as ever, she fancied that ‘ was not raining quite so fast. But she was afraid to go out and look, only cowered closely over the fire, wondering if anyone were looking for her, and how long they 7 would be before they found her. The fire was a great comfort, it seemed to be trying to cheer her, and as she crouched on the floor watching the flames and listening to the spate, she gradually fell asleep. When she awoke she could not imagine where she was. The red glow of the fire so near her, the hard bed on which she was lying, what did they mean? By degrees it all came back to her, and she began to cry once more as she thought how lonely she was. and wished she could have awakened in her own little bed at Oakdene House. But something was different from when she went to sleep. She roused herself and listened. There was no longer the

roaring of the water in her ears. Was it all gone? She could not understand either why it had come or why it had gone: but as she stood up to change her cramped position, she happened to look towards the window, and there she fancied she saw a faint light. 1 Where there was a light there were likely to be people, and she sprang to the door, feeling all her courage come back at the thought of friends so near. But, alas; the light was a very long way off, and what could she do to signal to the bearers? Suddenly she ran indoors, pushed a stick in among the hot embers on the hearth, and when it was well alight ran out and waved it wildly. To her joy the lantern was waved twice in answer, and she fancied she heard a shout. It seemed an immense time that

she waited there, for the lantern went out of sight again, but she guessed, and rightly, that its disappearance was caused by some dip of the hill which the bearer had to cross. At last she saw it again, much nearer now ; then she heard feet and voices, and presently a group of men burst out of the darkness, and Jessie was in her uncle's arms. It did not take long to tell her adventures, and she was relieved to find that her uncle knew' the shepherd who lived in the cottage. He had gone into the village that morning, and the storm had prevented his return. "But you must be dreadfully hungry, little woman!’’ said uncle, presently. "Dive into my pockets and see what you can find.” Jessie was very willing, and presently pulled out a large parcel of sandwiches and a pair of shoes. This was such a comical discovery that it made them all laugh, and uncle told how Gladys had come running out after him and tucked them in just as he was going to start. The other men were sitting on the table or leaning against the wall, and Jessie could not but notice how glad they all seemed to find her safe. It was not until long afterwards that she understood how great her danger had been. Now she was anxious to get back and let the others know she was safe; so

after putting on the fresh shoes they' started. Sometimes walking and sometimes being carried, Jessie found herself among her friends once more. And in telling the story in later years she always said that being lost on the fells was one of the best things that ever happened to her.