ONLY A FIDDLE. A CHRISTMAS STORY. BY CATHERINE OWEN, MONTREAL. I. "B day, mother? UT suppose they should not pay to Oh, don't talk of such a thing, Kitty, they must pay; there is the water rate must be paid, or it will be cut off; and Tossy's shoes, poor child, she has been promised so long; and I don't know where the money is to come from if they don't pay their rent." Kitty looked dubious: it had so often happened in her young life that lodgers did not pay their rent, and poor mother had so often had to leave taxes unpaid, shoes and even food unbought, that the fact of the present necessity of the case did not strike her as a very likely reason why these lodgers should pay any more than many others. It so happened that the shabby (very shabby) genteel lodgings poor Mrs. Garrett had to let were more often patronized by those very genteel people whose motto is "Dig I cannot, to beg I am ashamed," but whose shamefacedness did not prevent them from swindling the poor lodging-house keeper of as much rent as her patience allowed them; and as her patience was long, and her credulity considerable to any one who pitched a good story in refined English, her losses were frequent-so frequent that Kitty, with the precocity of the citybred child, had a keen eye to the number of trunks a new lodger brought; and this autumn, after the first floor had been empty so long that the card "Furnished Apartments to Let," put up in summer, had become fly-spotted and yellow, Mrs. Garrett declared one morning to her confidante, Kitty strict injunctions to choose a nice one without flourishes. And sure enough that very afternoon there came a resonant rat-tat-tat at the door. With anxious haste Mrs. Garrett showed her rooms to the lady who applied for them. When she came back to the sitting-room, where Kitty was waiting with anxiety second only to her mother's, Mrs. Garrett's radiant face told the story of success. "Let at last, Kitty!" "I hope they'll pay," said Kitty, cautiously. "Oh, there is not much fear," said her mother, whose bump of hopefulness must have been abnormally developed; "there is not much fear this time, Kitty; look here!" As she spoke she held out her hand, with three half-crowns in it. "That is a good deposit, mother," said Kitty, her eyes sparkling. "She has paid half a week in advance, because she doesn't want to trouble about references; and she wants to pay the rent monthly, because she receives her income once a month.” Mrs. Garrett's face was not quite so bright now, as she thought that the seven and sixpence she held was all the money she would have for the rooms for a month. Kitty's face was a picture to see, so worldly-wise, so expressive of doubt and anxiety. But, mother, how can we wait for a month?" "That is what I thought first," said her mother, "but then, I don't know-it will come in a lump. The water rate must wait, and then we must try and pay the poor rates from father's money: the butcher must wait too for a few weeks; he gets his money pretty regularly, and will wait without grumbling: after all, we shall not be worse off than as if we had not let." And so Mrs. Philpots and her husband came to live at Mrs. Garrett's. Kitty looked doubtfully at the one small trunk they brought, and decidedly did not like Mrs. Philpots, nor did her mother after the new lodgers had been in her house a few days. In the first place, it was evident she did not treat her husband well. He was many years older than his wife; a weak and submissive old man; his manner was that of a "perfect gentleman," to use his landlady's expression, but his wife treated him like a boy; he was sent on errands, and abused if he did not acquit himself satisfactorily. So little food came into the house, and Mrs. Philpots was so much out of it, that Mrs. Garrett was afraid the poor old man had often not enough to eat; he appeared, however, to have one consolation-he played the violin, and when he was alone, the house resounded with the sweetest and wildest music; his taste, however, was never indulged when his wife was at home. So much Mrs. Garrett knew from observation, and she concocted a little romance in her own mind to account for this state of things between husband and wife; for, poor as Mrs. Garrett was, she spared a penny a week for the Family Herald-that light of the London masses, which, with its contemporaries of the same class-let the despisers of cheap literature scoff as they will-is too often the only softening influence they know in the utter sordidness of their poverty. And of this beneficent print she and Kitty were assiduous readers; for, shocking as it may appear to well-to-do Canadian or English mammas that a little girl of ten years should be allowed to read such "trash," such things are, and I do not know that the moral injury is very great. To Mrs. Garrett's imaginative mind, Mr. Philpots was a man who had been married for his money, which his wife was spending among her own people, which accounted for the hours she was away; and taking advantage of the submissive temper of the old man, she kept him without money, and with barely clothes to cover him, and, Mrs. Garrett was quite sure, very short of food. Now, she was a woman who had seen better days, that is to say, she had been lady's maid, and seen high life from a distance, and when she was married her husband's earnings had sufficed for comfort; but now, with seven children, they were very far from doing that, and with the advent of each of the seven they had drawn a step nearer the poverty in which they now were. Having been maid to one or two ladies of rank, Mrs. Garrett considered herself qualified to judge. better than most people in her condition of a true gentleman or lady when she met one, and she was sure Mr. Philpots was one, and respected him accordingly; equally sure was she that his wife was not of the same condition of life as himself. But no doubt entered her mind as to the safety of her rent until the month's end, when we find her patiently and hopefully waiting for it, and Kitty suggesting a possibility of disappointment; and as the day waned and evening came without Mrs. Philpots's return, her heart misgave her, and yet she bravely told herself she had no reason for misgiving. Mrs. Philpots's being later than usual was not a sign that she would not pay, if not to-night, to-morrow morning; and when she did come home, and Mrs. Garrett heard her ascend the stairs without calling at her door, she tried to feel no misgiving. "Mother," said Kitty, "won't you ask her for it, we want it so badly?" "I must ask her to-morrow morning, though asking is a thing I hate." "I don't hate it with her," said Kitty, who usually "hated" it as much as her mother. "I'll go up to-night and ask, if you'll let me, mother; it would be so nice to go to bed and feel we have the money safe." "I know it would, but I can't bear to be so sharp; no, I'll get your father to write a note before he goes, and if she doesn't pay early you shall take it up." A "note" was the usual resource when there was any asking to be done. This was about all the part Mr. Garrett took in the management of his household affairs; an easy man, he considered he had done his duty when he earned the money that paid the house-rent and butcher and baker; to his wife he left the task of making it do as much more as possible, and of eking it out by letting lodgings. He gave his advice when consulted, and complacently said "I told you so," when she had to bewail the wickedness of some very genteel lodger who had gone away without paying her. To-night when he came in and saw her anxious face, and that there was no little extra dainty for his supper (for, in true Cockney fashion, every good that happened was celebrated by a treat in the shape of a good supper, or a lobster for tea) he knew the Philpots had not paid. "No rent ?" he asked. "No, I suppose we shall have it to-morrow; but you had better write a note in case they don't pay ?" "Oh, don't bother about writing notes, Kate; ask 'em plainly." "I hate to ask when it is only just due; will you do it?” "Oh no, I have had nothing to do with them yet. I'll write a note, but you had far better ask." "If you could only give me a few shillings," said Mrs. Garrett, apologetically, for her own; "I need it so much, or I should not have asked for it so soon." My good woman, I will not only give you a few shillings, I will give you all in a day or two, when I take my Christmas dividends." At the sound of the word "dividend," Mrs. Garrett took heart. She knew people often were short just before dividend day ; but in the meantime what were they to do? Things had been very bad last month, they were worse now; the butcher, who had been put off then, was clamorous now, and refused them further credit. "Dick, what ever shall we do?" asked the poor woman in her despair, "Christmas just upon us and not a penny in the house. The last sack of coals I got are gone again, and the children all want boots. A pretty Christmas for them." The next morning Mrs. Garrett and Kitty waited hour after hour, hoping Mrs. Philpots would make her appearance, money in hand. The note was kept ready, so that when she came down to go out, which she usually did much earlier than this, Kitty might intercept her with it; but "the bestlaid plans of mice and men are apt to go | astray, and so it was that Kitty sat on the "I don't know, my dear, I am sure. I qui vive all day listening for Mrs. Philpots to wish we had fifty pounds. I would not stay go out, in vain, Between Mrs. Garrett and in the country another month." her, in the evening, it was decided that the note must go up. The door was opened by the old man, who looked, to Kitty's fancy, as if he had expected some one and was frightened at seeing them; she gave him the note, which he took with trembling hands. "Mrs. Philpots will attend to this when she comes home; she is out now." "She must have slipped out, mother," said Kitty, coming into the room breathless from her errand "she is out, the old gentleman says." "Out! how can she be out? It must be an excuse!" "I think she is out, because he was sitting without a candle, and I don't think there was much fire." "That looks bad, Kitty, If she was not afraid to be asked for the rent, why need she slip out to-day any more than other days? There is one thing I am determined," said the poor woman, with a great show of spirit, "I'll take Mrs. Honey's advice-I'll keep their luggage. Every one else does it; why should I be so easy?" "That is right, mother; you have always been too easy, father says,' Well they did not pay. Mrs. Philpots was caught the next morning just as she was going out very silently, and promised the money in a few days. "We may as well wish for the moon, Dick," said his wife, rather impatiently, for he had been wishing for fifty pounds ever since they had been married, and the wish always found expression when they were in some exasperating difficulty for want of fifty shillings. The day on which Mrs. Philpots said she would receive her dividends came and passed, and she still had no money, and at last was told she must leave, and that her trunk would be detained if she did not pay; at which she expressed great indignation, but went out next morning, as usual. Once sure that no money was to come, Mrs. Garrett had to cast about for the possibility of appeasing the butcher, and getting shoes for the poor little cold feet that wanted them so badly. They had nothing valuable to part with now but poor Garrett's silver watch-the chain had been sent to the pawnbroker's long ago. It was a wrench to him to part with his watch, but he handed it forth gallantly, only saying "I wish we could get fifty pounds on it, Kate." "I wish we could get fifty shillings, though it would only be the more interest to pay," she said mournfully. "Never mind, old girl, there's a good time coming," said Dick, with an effort to be cheerful. This was on the day Mrs. Philpots had been told to vacate her rooms. Mrs. Garrett expected her to come back before leaving finally, but in the afternoon a timid. knock came to her room door, and Mr. Philpots entered, looking so woe-begone and ill that she was startled. "I have come to ask a great favour, Mrs. Garrett, and no one can be more sensible than I am that I have no right to expect you to grant any favour, but things are not as I wish them. If I had money you should be paid, or if I could get it." "I feel sure of that," said tender-hearted Mrs. Garrett. "I never have blamed you, I am sure, Mr. Philpots, and anything I can do for you, I will gladly." "You are a good woman," said the old man with apparent emotion; "I—I wish all women were like you. The favour I have to ask you is that you will allow me to take away a small parcel. My wife told me nothing was to go out of the house, but what I wish to be allowed to take is my violin. It is an old one; had it been a handsome one, in good condition, it would have been sold long ago," he said bitterly; "but old as it is, I am very fond of it. I could almost as soon part with my life," he said, clasping his thin hands. Oh, certainly, take it, sir. I should not think of keeping anything, only we are very poor, and my neighbours laugh at me for being so easy, and perhaps Mrs. Philpots may try and pay me a little to get her trunk back." The old man shook his head mournfully. "I thank you. You at least shall not lose by us, even if you have to wait long for your money; but I don't think it will be long now," he added, more to himself than to his listener. "Mother," said Kitty, after he had left the room to go up-stairs, "did you see how eagerly he looked at the bread on the table? I believe he is very hungry." "I am afraid so; I don't think they have cooked a thing since they have been here. She gets enough out of the house, I dare say." "Oh, she'll take care of herself," said Kitty ; "but couldn't we give him some tea and bread and butter, mother?” "He needs bread and meat and beer, if he has had nothing substantial for so long." Mrs. Garrett looked troubled; she knew she could not afford what she wished to do; that if she did it, even her good-natured husband would laugh at her. At last, looking out into the pitiless streets, down which the sleet was driving fast, her resolution seemed taken. "Kitty," she said, "I couldn't sleep in my bed to-night if I let that old man go out without anything in such weather. I'll send for a quarter of round of beef and half a pint of stout, if we go without our dinner to-morrow for it. But the weather is almost too bad for you to go out," she added, again looking out on the frosty streets. "Oh, no, mother," said Kitty, with alacrity, for her mother had just been proposing what she had been longing to suggest, "I can soon run round to the ham and beef shop, and get the beer when I come back." Very well; wrap up as warmly as you can. Off sped Kitty through the pitiless streets, fleet messenger of her mother's charity, and quickly returned, panting, out of breath, and with her fingers holding a roll of paper containing the beef, which, seeing Mr. Philpots in the room as she entered, she quickly hid under her cape, and left the room, and brought it back on a plate. The mother had laid a cloth, and knife and fork, and glass meanwhile, and when Kitty appeared, said, "I don't suppose you have had your dinner, Mr. Philpots; pray sit down, and eat a snack before you go out.' The poor old man, who had been hungrily eyeing the food, looked up in amazement. "For me! I can't refuse it, for I—ah! -you have guessed the truth, I am hungry." Tears rose to Mrs. Garrett's eyes as she watched his keen relish of the food, which, to tell the truth, her own stomach craved, for she herself had meat but seldom. Kitty stood by in sympathy, warming her trembling limbs at the small fire. "Oh, Kitty, run and change your clothes, child; the sleet has melted, and you are wet through," said Mrs. Garrett, whose attention had been drawn to shivering Kitty, who was thinly clad. "I will in a minute," said Kitty, anxious, child-like, to hear what Mr. Philpots might say when he had appeased his appetite. "Dinner! no," he said at last," it is many a day since I had anything more than bread. for my dinner." "But," said Mrs. Garrett, "Mrs. Philpots, does she " |