393
November, 1934
T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
Junior KING ’S BUSINESS B y M a r t h a S. H o o k e r
WHY BOBBY CHANGED HIS MIND B y A lice M. A rdagh
D a y after tomorrow’s Thanksgiving Day, and Teacher said she wanted us to tell her tomorrow what we had to be thankful for. What do I have to be thankful for, I should like to know 1 Nothing! I wanted to stay at the farm all winter and have fun snowshoeing and sledding on the hills, and I had to come home and go to schoolt" The way Bobby said “school” would have made the poor old school squirm if it had been anywhere near and had had ears to hear I “ And I want a bicycle,” continued Bobby, “but Mother says she can’t afford it. And I have to go to bed at eight o’clock (Bobby was in bed at this mo ment I) and there are boys playing ball out there right now—I can hear them. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for I I should say not! I’ll just tell Teacher so tomorrow !” And Bobby did. He recited all his woes to her, and Miss Langdon looked very grave—because, o f course, she was so sorry for him, Bobby thought. He was wondering what she could do to make his life less miserable. When school was over, Miss Langdon said, “ I want to take you somewhere, Bobby; will you come?” Bobby’s face brightened. She must be going to take him to the bicycle shop to show him how cheaply he could get a bicycle, so that he could tell Mother. Bobby knew itl “W e’lL call at your house on the way, Bobby,” she said, “and tell Mother, so that she will not be anxious.” When they left Bobby’s home, they took their way to the outskirts o f the village. “ She isn’t going to the bicycle shop after all to show me how cheaply I can get a bicycle,” thought Bobby mournfully. Miss Langdon stopped a moment at her own house and brought out a big basket. She did not offer to tell what was in it, and Bobby’s curiosity grew as he helped her carry it down the street. They went on until they came to the poorest house Bobby had ever seen in his life. Miss Langdon knocked on the door, and a squeaky little voice said, “ Come in 1” When they passed through the door, Bobby wondered where the voice had come from. He saw no one. The only furniture in the room was an unpainted table without a cloth, one wooden chair, a kitchen stove propped up with bricks where one leg was missing, and what looked like a big box in a far corner. Miss Langdon crossed to the box and bent over it She turned and called to Bobby. When he reached the box, he saw that in it was a boy about his own age. But what a dif ferent boy! Oh, how thin he was! Bobby knew at once that the boy was ill. “ This blanket came yesterday,” the boy said proudly, pointing to the one on which his thin hand lay. “Mother said you sent it, lady. It’s lovely and warm.”
Bobby looked up at Miss Langdon. Here was something he couldn’t understand at all. The idea o f being thankful for a box instead o f a bed! He saw that Miss Langdon’s eyes were full o f tears. “ I’ve brought something for dinner for you and your mother,” she said. And now Bobby learned what Teacher had in the basket they had carried. She first took out a pie. “ It’s a meat pie, Lennie,” she said. “Mother had better warm it. There’s lots o f gravy.” Next she took out two loaves of bread and a pound o f butter, and then some pears and apples. “And here’s some coffee and sugar and canned milk for Mother. Now, Lennie, we’re ready for Thanksgiving Day, aren’t we? And there’s a whole cord o f wood, cut and split, ready for the stove, coming this minute. I see it out there n ow ! Where shall I tell them to put it, Lennie?” “At the back of the house, lady. Oh, ladyl Won’t Mother be glad! And would they bring some in and put it by the stove ?” “ I’ll do that,” cried Bobby, glad to find a way to help. He ran out and told the man where to put the wood, and asked if he might have an armful to carry in. When he went in with it, he found that there was a woman with Teacher and Lennie. He realized at once that she was Lennie’s mother. The sick boy was excitedly giv ing her a list o f the wonderful things on the table. “ A meat pie, Mother 1” Bobby heard him say. “ O-oh, Mother!” And his mother responded, “ I guess we’ve got more to be thankful for tomor row than any one in town! Oh, Miss Langdon, I am grateful! You do know it —don’t you?” Teacher was very quiet on the way home. Bobby finally spoke. “ Can’t he get out of bed at all, Teacher?” “ No, Bobby; his back and legs are crip pled.” “ O -oh!” said Bobby. Presently he ven tured again. “Teacher, I’m sorry I said I hadn’t anything to be thankful for. Why, I have heaps! I’ve too many things to name them! Why, there’s my being able to walk—and my home—and a turkey tomorrow—and my warm bed, and—so many things. Lennie said he couldn’t read ’cause he’d never been able to go to school—so I’ve got to be thankful I can go, and I used to think it was horrid! Teacher, if you ask us next year, I’ll make a big list to give you, ’cause there is a big list. I think Lennie is the thankfullest boy I know, ’cause he has hardly anything, has he?” “ Bobby,” said Teacher, “ I hoped you would understand. Everybody living has something to be thankful fo r ! And the most wonderful thing is that God loves us so—loves us so much that ‘he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believ- eth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ”
“Do you want to see my kitten?” he asked Bobby. Bobby managed to say, “Yes,” and the boy drew from under the blanket a soft little bunch o f gray fur. “Isn’t it lovely?” he asked. “ It doesn’t be long to me, because we can’t afford to feed a kitten. It needs milk, and Mother has all she can do to buy milk for me. But Teddy Kane lends it to me for two hours every day, to keep me company while Mother’s out. Don’t you think I’m a lucky boy? Mother hasn’t been going out until two days ago. She couldn’t get work. That is why we haven’t a fire in the stove. Mother says she’ll get around to buying wood very soon, but she had to buy food first. But I’m not cold now”—he said it eagerly as if to make sure they would not think that he was grumbling—“this blanket’s great! Don’t you want to hold my kitten?” the boy added. Bobby hardly heard him. “Why—why do you have a bed like this?” he managed to ask. “ Oh, that’s another blessing,” the boy answered. “Mother says the sides keep me warm. There’d be drafts if it were only a cot bed. Mother had to sell the big bed, and Teddy Kane’s daddy made this for me. I f Mother hadn’t had to sell the big bed, I’d have had to sleep in the drafts.”
Made with FlippingBook - Online catalogs