! II!I!P ..Jpi Class £^S£ZZ_ Book 4 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. KING PHILIP OF PRIMROSE STREET ELIZABETH L. FLINT RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS BOSTON Copyright 191S by Elizabeth L. Flint All rights reaerted w'"^ The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. V ^< €Ci.A31445X To the memory of PHILIP who met accidental death while this little story was in preparation KING PHILIP OF PRIMROSE STREET KING PHILIP OF PRIMROSE STREET IT was New Year's morning, and as the bells in the steeples of the city were ringing to usher in the New Year, a little babe found its way into this old world of ours. A little babe, the sweetest thing that ever came to gladden human hearts and homes. This is no unusual event, but it was an unusual event for Primrose Street, which might well have been so named from its prim rows of houses which stood just so many feet from their neighbors, and whose lawns and gardens were always smooth and well kept because they were never trodden by little feet, there being not one child on the length of Primrose Street. A trifle higher, socially and topogra- phically, stood Evergreen Terrace, with its rows of tall spruce and arbor vitae trees, 7 8 King Philip its beautiful houses and sparkling fountains, one of which was reported to have borne a placard saying, "Dogs are requested not to wash in this fountain." This report, however, was never substantiated. The residents of the Terrace were people whose fortunes had been made and who were living in ease and comparative luxury where they could look down on Primrose Street and watch the effort of their neighbors as they struggled to reach a somewhat higher station. Primrose Street might be said to be divided into three parts; the first part at the head of the street being composed of families whose names consisted of three or more syllables. There were the Fotherin- gills, the Van Osmons, the Underwoods and the St. Sylvesters. Toward the centre of the street the names, for the most part, could boast of but two syllables, while at the foot of the street they ended with plain John Blake. of Primrose Street 9 It was in the home of the Sheldons, about midway of Primrose Street, that the little child came on this New Year's morn- ing; a home, which for twelve years had been, like those of its neighbors, a childless one. As Alice Sheldon came out of the valley into the sunshine, she smiled faintly but sweetly as she looked into the face of her husband who was bending anxiously over her, and said: "Hugh, must we apolo- gize to Primrose Street?" Hugh Sheldon drew his six feet of superb manhood to its full height as he answered, "Not in a thousand years. We'll make all the neighborhood green with envy before the year is over." He touched with tremb- ling lips the pale forehead on the pillow and stole quietly out of the room. The following evening, Major Carrington remarked to his wife that a great event had taken place on their street, and told her of the birth of the Sheldon's child. Mrs. 10 KingfPhilip Carrington's handsome face was a study as the Major watched it from behind his evening paper. Surprise, anger, resent- ment seemed strugghng for mastery, as the usually pale face turned to scarlet and then grew white again. The major stooped and picked up the dainty bit of sewing which had fallen to the floor and as he gave it to his wife he noticed that it was a baby's frock. Mrs. Carrington flushed almost guiltily as she said: "This is for my sister's child, as you ought to know." "Ah, I see," replied the Major calmly, "babies are permitted in Montana." The woman could endure it no longer and in a voice wrought to a high pitch she cried out, "Our street will never be the same again; this is the first time a baby has been born here, and we do not want them. Our lawns and gardens will be ruined and there will be no more peace in our quiet neighbor- hood. This is the first, but of course there of Primrose Street 11 will be more! I cannot bear it, I will not bear it," and she gathered her work to- gether and left the room. It was true that this was the first child on the street, but Primrose was neither a very old nor a very long street. Major Carrington was more than twenty years his wife's senior and he loved little children with all the warmth of his big, tender heart. To him it seemed a thing not to be compre- hended that any one, least of all a woman, could steel a heart against a helpless babe and prefer houses and gardens and fountains to a little warm bundle of humanity. He was a wise man, however, and knew that words were worse than useless in his wife's present state of mind, so he finished his paper and went to his room, tapping at her door simply to say good-night. His heart however, was strangely drawn toward the little babe in the Sheldon's home, and he determined that he would ask to see him as soon as it could be made convenient. 12 King Philip As Dr. Strong left the house that morning he called the father of the child into the library and said to him, "There is a slight malformation in one of the baby's feet; have the nurse keep him away from his mother as much as possible until she is strong enough to bear it"; then seeing the look of pain on the man's face, he added, placing a hand upon the bowed head: "Remember, my son, better a spur in the head than three in the heel," and with a warm grasp of the hand the doctor passed out into the crisp winter air. A few days afterward the Major met Hugh Sheldon and inquired for the child, expressing his desire to see him when it should seem best, and a most cordial invitation was given for the following Sun- day. "Mrs. Sheldon sees little of the boy, and I shall be delighted to show him," remarked the proud father. No word as to the little misshapen foot had been spoken of Primrose Street 13 since that morning of the doctor's mention of it, and there was no need to speak of it at present. "I will keep it from her until the nurse leaves," thought the father, "and then perhaps Dr. Strong will break it to her. I'm afraid I'm not man enough to do it, God pity us all!" Major Carrington would not for worlds have told his wife of his proposed call at the Sheldon's house, not that he was at all ashamed of it but he was a peace-loving man and dreaded the little household skirmish which would surely take place if his plans were made known. Accordingly, after Mrs. Carrington had gone to the church service, he made his way to the home of the Sheldons and was ushered in by Mr. Sheldon, who asked him at once into the little newly appointed nursery at the head of the stairs. Taking the babe from his crib he carried him to the Major who held out his arms to take the atom of humanity. 14 King Philip The father smiled as he gave his son to their visitor, saying, "I didn't know you could handle babies, Major, but you are doing as good a job at it as I do, that's a fact." The child had been given the name of Philip King and the Major playfully called him King Philip and so it was, that in time he became King Philip to almost every one, and from that day he possessed a hitherto unoccupied portion of the big Major's warm heart. Never a Sunday passed but he made his call at the home of the Sheldons' and always for a few moments he would hold the little bundle which the father brought and carefully placed in his arms. When Philip was six weeks old, Alice Sheldon felt strong enough to have the care of him herself and at last there came the day when the nurse said, "I must leave tomor- row," and Hugh Sheldon felt his heart sink within him. oj Primrose Street 15 "I will not be coward enough to ask the nurse to tell the child's mother and I will not alarm her by calling the doctor to tell her what I ought to be man enough to do myself; but Heaven help me, how can I look into her eyes and say to her, 'Our little son is a cripple!'" That night, long after he should have been asleep, he turned and tossed restlessly until he could bear it no longer and rising, he dressed hastily and passed out on an upper veranda where he looked up to the clear winter sky and reached out his arms as a little child holds up his hands to be taken in the strong arms of his father. What watcher has not felt the influence of the night wind? In the daylight the wind comes tapping at our windows and knocking at our doors and seems to say, "How do you do this morning? I cannot stop a moment; I'm on my way to the next town and must rush along." But in the 16 King Philip night all this is changed. The night wind comes like a lone traveller up the street, sighing like one who has lost his companions on the way and must make his midnight journey alone, ever sighing, ever crying as for his lost friends. Hugh Sheldon felt the power and spell of the lonely wind as it passed through the tree tops, and in a voice suppressed with pain and trembling with emotion, he whispered, "You are no more alone than I. We all live our lives alone, let us be friends." Soothed and comforted by the wintry wind, he raised his head once more to the stars and returned to his bed, and almost instantly fell into a peaceful sleep, only awakening when there came a tap at his door and a voice calling him to breakfast. In an hour he must be away to his work and when he returned the nurse would be gone. He must tell his secret at once — he would not be a coward — he could not put it off o/ Primrose Street 17 and he made his way without hesitation to the room across the hall where were the mother and child. Alice Sheldon was wide awake and greet- ed her husband with her brightest smile. He hardly knew how to begin, but he must tell her, and so he seated himself on the edge of the bed and taking one of the thin white hands in his own he said, "Alice, there is something I must say to you this morning. I hate to do it — God only knows how much I dread it. It is about our little Philip," — and then the strong man bowed his head upon his breast and broke into a sob. In an instant the mother raised herself from her pillow and drew the man to her side. "Hush, you need not tell me — it is about his poor little foot," she whispered. "Did you think that I, his mother, did not know it? Why, Hugh, I have known it from the very first," and lifting his head. 18 King Philip Hugh Sheldon saw such a smile on the mother's face as he had never seen before, a smile radiant with love and hope and tenderness. "Now run and eat your break- fast before it grows cold and to-night you may tell me how you found out my secret, for I thought you did not know." The child grew strong and sturdy and seemed in all respects a perfectly healthy babe, except for what, to each other, they called, "his poor little foot." Once the mother ventured to ask if it were a punish- ment upon them because — but she went no further, for the father's hand was lifted in protest, as he said, "Never mention it again, Alice. We did want him, only perhaps at the first, the very first, we did not know it," and the matter was never again alluded to in the light of punishment. It would be difficult to find a sweeter, sunnier child than was little Philip and he looked like the sunbeam that he was. His o/ Primrose Street 19 bright golden hair was like sunshine itself and lay in beautiful rings about his well formed head, making a golden crown for the infant king, while his eyes were like bits of blue sky as to color and shone like lustrous stars. It was an easy matter to hide his deformity while he was a little babe. He was kept in long clothes until he was long past the age when most children are kicking about in short ones and not until he was nearly two years of age did he show any disposition to use his feet, always being carried or wheeled about in his dainty white carriage. Major Carrington was the first to know of the affliction and he kept it a profound secret and loved the child the more. But it could not be kept a secret forever, and gradually it became known that the babe was crippled, but not hopelessly so. "After he is seven years old there might be a chance for him," the doctor had said, and so they 20 King Philip lived and hoped and neither father nor mother ever lost faith that in a few years their boy would be as other boys. When Philip was four years of age, he began to ask so many questions about the sky, the birds and flowers and all the wonders of stars and moon that the father and mother tried to teach him about the good God who made all the beauties of earth and sky, but alas! how hard a task it is to endeavor to explain to a little child what we do not ourselves understand, and so it came to be almost impossible for Hugh and Alice Sheldon to satisfy the mind of their little son. "We must take him to church soon," said the mother. "There he will learn more than we can ever hope to teach him," and to this the father agreed. It was years since either had attended a church service and it was still longer since they had read even one chapter in God's holy word, and they felt their of Primrose Street 21 utter helplessness as they strove in vain to make the child understand, as they had been made to do in their childhood, the love and care of the Father in Heaven. So they cast about in their minds for a church that would best suit the needs of the humble in heart, for such they had found themselves to be, feeling sure that such an one would meet the needs of their little son. Instinct- ively, they turned away from the large and fashionable churches of their own neighbor- hood and at length it was decided that a plain, unpretentious chapel on Margin Street would best meet their need. The pastor, the Reverend Herbert Kimball, was a man devoted to his parish and un- commonly beloved by all who knew him. "We are going to God's house to-morrow, Philip," said the mother as she put the child in his crib one night, "and we will hear about the good God who made us all and everything that we love," and the boy 22 King Philip fell asleep with his sweetest smile upon his face as he said to himself, "To God's house, God's house." The Sabbath dawned clear and beautiful as only a June Sabbath can dawn, and Philip, dressed in pure white, was taken to his carriage and the three started toward the Margin Street chapel. His parents always avoided the street cars when the child was with them, if possible, and this morning they left the small cart at the door of the church and the father took his son in his arms and slipped into a pew near the rear and held the boy on his knee. The small chapel was filled with the fragrance of roses and liles which were massed around the pulpit, and there seemed to be an air of unwonted joy and almost of festivity throughout the place which neither Hugh Sheldon nor his wife quite understood. If they had ever heard of Children's Sunday they had forgotten its existence, but they of Primrose Street 23 could not have chosen a better Sunday for their little son's first day at church. The Reverend Herbert Kimball would never have been a success in a large city church and he had the grace to know it, and so he was content to minister to the needs of this humble parish, teaching, guiding, consoling and almost loving them into the kingdom of God. There was a little impediment, or more properly speak- ing, a slight hesitation in his speech which would debar him from many a pulpit, but while this defect was perfectly apparent in his sermon, it was entirely absent when he approached the throne of God in prayer As he raised his hand and said simply, "Let us pray," he led his people almost into the holy of holies and a deep hush fell upon the little congregation who sat with bowed heads and bated breath. "Our Father who art in Heaven, we thank thee for this beautiful world which thou 24 King Philip hast made for us to enjoy, for the birds and flowers, the trees with their grateful shade and pleasant fruit. We thank thee for the little children whom thou hast placed with- in our homes. Help us to guide these little feet in the Heavenward way, and grant, O loving Father, that not one of us may cause them to stumble by living lives of which thou dost not approve. Keep every pre- cious life as in the hollow of thine hand and may not one be missing when thou makest up the jewels in the Heavenly home." Alice Sheldon, glancing at the boy in his father's arms, thought she saw a tear fall on his sunny head, but her own eyes were so full that she could not be sure, tho' she smiled into her husband's eyes one of her rarest, sweetest smiles. The odor of the flowers and the warm stillness of the room soon overcame Philip with drowsiness, and leaning on his father's breast he fell asleep, and when he awoke he of Primrose Street 25 was in his own white bed at home. E very- pleasant Sunday after this found them at the Margin Street chapel. It was not long before the minister called at their home and finding little Philip at play on the porch was astonished to hear him call, "O mother, come quick! God has come to see us, he is here on our veranda." A warm friendship sprang up between the minister and the Sheldons. To him was confided every hope and every fear that they had entertained for their son's future. "When he is seven," they said, "we have great hopes that his poor little foot can be made more like the other and that he can run and play like other boys." But there was always a note of sadness in the mother's voice, tho' she tried so hard to speak with cheer. When Philip was five years old his father brought home one night a tiny crutch. It was pitifully small, and when his mother 26 King Philip saw it she could not keep back her tears. She had known that it was to come and had nerved herself, as she had thought, to meet the occasion, but it was too much for her to bear, and she gave way to a flood of tears, a luxury in which, woman though she was, she almost never indulged. The child was delighted when his father next morning brought forward the crutch and began to teach its use. "You will soon be able to run and play and jump and we will have good times together, won't we, little son.f^" said the father as the boy began quite deftly to make use of the little crutch. "We'll have famous walks, you and I, or I miss my guess," and the child laughed and looked upon it as a grand holiday. So far he had never been to school nor had he ever had a playmate except his mother and father and the kind hearted Major, whom he always called "My Major," and who never failed to make at least one call a week on o/ Primrose Street 27 little King Philip. Besides these there was always his pretty brown spaniel, who was constantly with his small master, waking or sleeping. "We ought to find a real playmate for the child," said Hugh Sheldon one evening after the little fellow was asleep. "He is growing stronger now and gets about wonderfully well, but he needs child life to make him like other children. Don't you think we ought to find a little boy or girl with whom he can play.?" "Perhaps so; I have thought of it myself, but there is not a child on Primrose Street nor on Evergreen Terrace, and where shall we find one suitable for him.^^" replied the mother. "Surely not in Emerald lane," she added with one of her sad little smiles. But the unexpected often happens and it came about that Emerald lane was the very place in which Philip found a little compan- ion. 28 King Philip Emerald lane was a small place running back of Primrose Street and for the most part occupied by the families of coachmen or chauffeurs employed by the residents of that neighborhood. One modest cottage, however, contained a small boy and his grandmother, Mrs. Maloon and little Peter. Mrs. Maloon's occupation and aim in life seemed to be the preparation for winter. She knit mittens and stockings and mufflers, braided warm heavy rugs and patched and mended little Peter's clothes as well as her own, at work all through the long summer days in order that she might, as she ex- pressed it, "get ready for winter." Peter Maloon, senior, her husband, had long since gone where no such preparation is necessary, and her son, little Peter's father, had somewhat recently followed and the boy's mother, tired and discouraged, had meekly closed her eyes one night to open them no more on earth. Then it was that of Primrose Street 29 the grandmother arose to the occasion and announced her intention of moving into a new locaHty, with the view of making some- thing of Httle Peter. The good woman felt that she could best do this by having entirely new surroundings. "I intend to buy a small place," said she to a neighbor one day. This was repeated to every one in the court and variously commented on. "Well, did you ever!" "Listen to the airs of her!" "Where's the money coming from-f^" All these and many more, none of which failed to reach Mrs. Maloon's ears, were common exclamations, but she answered no questions and kept about her business as usual, until one morning a wagon came and took the furniture from the shabby tenement house. "Run now, Johnnie, follow the team and see where it's agoin'," called one of the neighbors to her son who was playing on the door-step. "Look sharp now and tell me 30 King Philip where they go and I'll give ye a penny to buy ye a hand-sucker," this being a form of confection very much in favor with the children of Flat Iron court. It was a long distance from the Court to Emerald lane, but the boy finally caught on to the back of a wagon and found himself at last in front of the little cottage where Mrs.Maloon and her grandson were await- ing the arrival of their goods. It was a tiny dwelling, formerly a carriage house and more recently a garage which had been sold as the owner had died and Mrs. Maloon had purchased the building. With the money which came to her at the death of her hus- band and son through their life insurance, she had been able to make a comfortable home for herself and "little Peter," as he was always called — Pete, Peter and little Peter being three generations of the Maloon family of whom now only one was left. "If our blessed Lord was born in a stable I reckon of Primrose Street 31 me and little Peter can live in a carriage house; leastways we'll try it a spell, now it's all fixed fit for a king. I always meant to have a happy home and now that Pete and Peter are gone I'm going to have it." This remark was addressed to little Peter but not until he was fast asleep, his grandmother knowing full well the free translation which it might receive in Emerald lane. Johnnie Daley felt that his "hand sucker" had been dearly earned and that his labor was out of all proportion to his reward and finally his mother said "Here, Johnnie, take this nickel and go to the movin' pictures, while I run and tell the folkses where Mis' Maloon's took herself; gettin' pretty high toned now the old man's gone." Mrs. Maloon cared not for the tongues of her old neighbors ; she was bent on bringing up her grandson in the way he should go and when people asked her if she were not dis- couraged after the careers of her husband 32 King Philip and son she replied cheerfully, "No. I didn't have the bringing up of Pete, and Peter had the bad example of his father; and now little Peter will have neither of them to look to. He always favored my side of the house anyway — he's all Casey. I mean to give him a chance to grow up good and use- ful and he couldn't get the chance in that court, no way I could fix it." To the credit of both it should be said that little Peter was bidding fair to be a satisfaction to his good old grandmother. Children were almost as scarce in Emerald lane as they were in Primrose Street, chauffeurs and coachmen without such en- cumbrances being most desired; and so it was that little Peter found himself with but few playmates, most of the boys being too old or too young to care for his company. One afternoon, as he was walking along the lane kicking his bare feet about in the dust, he caught a glimpse of a small boy peering of Primrose Street 33 through the tall thick hedge which separated Primrose Street from Emerald lane. The boy was dressed in pure white and had a small white cap set well back on a head of sunny curls, and under his right arm was a tiny crutch. On the other side of the hedge was Peter Maloon, as marked a contrast as could well be imagined. His feet and legs were bare, as was his head which was almost as smooth and hard as a croquet ball. His face was round and had as many freckles to the square inch as could gain a residence there, if indeed, the word square could be used in connection with anything so round as little Peter. His mouth gave one the impression that he had been brought up on "prunes and prisms'* all his life, while a pair of bright steel gray eyes, set deeply in his head, gave him the appearance of being as wise as the proverbial owl. The boys stared at each other with child- like frankness. Finally Peter said, "Say, what d'ye wear all those curls for?" 34 King Philip Philip replied, without the slightest hesi- tation, "Why do you have all those spatters on your face?" The prunes and prisms cracked and burst and a merry laugh rang out on the afternoon sleepiness of the street as Peter cried out, "Well, you're all right if you have got curls." Thus it was that little King Philip found his first real play fellow. Philip was now nearly seven years of age and the father and mother were making plans for sending him to school the coming autumn. He was ambitious to go like the other boys and it was almost decided that he should attend a small private school in the neighborhood, although if he could have had his own way he would gladly have gone with Peter Maloon. This, however, was out of the question, and so arrangements were made for the Misses Northwood to have him enter their school at the beginning of the fall term. o/ Primrose Street 35 Peter would soon be nine years of age and it was his great desire to have a party by way of celebration on his birthday, which was to come at the middle of September. After considerable coaxing he gained the consent of his grandmother with the under- standing that it should be a very small party. "Just three or four boys is all we can have in this little mite of a house which wasn't cut out for dinner parties at all," the good woman explained. "If you want to invite two or three of your mates I won't object; but let them be a good sort of boys, that's all." In a few days Peter approached his grandmother, saying, "Grammy, will you let me have anything I want for my party .'^" "Well, no, I won't be saying that," she replied guardedly. "You might be want- ing something I couldn't afford to give ye, but I'll let ye have all ye can eat of what we have." 36 King Philip "O no, Grammy," cried the boy; "I don't mean anything to eat', I mean something to do^ something I want to have." **Well," answered Mrs. Maloon, "I never buy a pig in a poke and I won't make no promises in the dark. Speak up and tell me what it is ye want, and don't hang back as if ye were ashamed of it." Thus encouraged, Peter burst forth, "Well, it's a bonfire!" The grandmother hesitated while the boy stood before her with his hands in his pockets and a wistful look in his deep- set eyes. "I suppose ye're wanting another Fourth of July; well now, I'll tell ye what I'll do. If ye'll clean up the yard all fine and neat, every stick and bit of brush, I don't know but I'll leave ye have it, but there'll be no match touched to it unless I'm there to see to|it myself. Now remem- ber," she called as Peter, smiling and danc- ing, was off at once to begin his task. o/ Primrose Street 37 Of course Peter had insisted on asking Philip Sheldon to his little party, but his grandmother objected, saying that, "Those rich people would never let him come; besides he's delicate-like and can't stand the rough ways of the other children." Seeing Peter's disappointment she added, "You may ask him if ye like but don't be no ways put out if his mother tells ye no." But Mrs. Sheldon did not say no. "O yes, Peter, if he is well he may go; it is to be on Monday, is it, at half past three? Certainly he may go, and I thank you for asking him, it will be his first party." Peter was off on the wings of the wind and disappeared through a gap in the hedge which had been made for the accomodation of the two boys. In another moment he stood before his grandmother with shining eyes. "He can, he can," he shouted, "his mother said he could come. She's the best S8 King Philip lady in town 'cept you Grammy," he added as he gave her an affectionate hug. The Saturday before the eventful day was very warm and toward the latter part of the afternoon, Phillip made his way toward the gap in the hedge just as Mrs. Carring- ton, dressed in a filmy gown of white, came out of her house and walked toward the hedge which separated Primrose Street from Emerald lane. Never since the even- ing that the Major had told her of the birth of the child had she in any way alluded to him and neither, indeed, had he. Though she had often seen him she had never spoken to the boy or apparently noticed his existence. On this Saturday after- noon she carried a small basket, intend- ing to gather some blackberries for tea, and close at her side was her little white dog, Beauty. The dog and Philip were the best of friends and Beauty came forward and began to lick the hand of the child and to of Primrose Street 39 jump about in delight, which Mrs. Carring- ton feigned not to notice. Philip peered through the hedge and saw- that the Maloon cottage was closed and that Peter was nowhere in sight. As he turned to go away, a tiny red flame peeped out from under the pile of brush which had been collected for the birthday festival. Just at that moment Mrs. Carrington turned and as she did so the creeping flame caught the edge of her gauzy dress. Philip screamed in alarm and Mrs. Carrington tripping over a trailing blackberry vine stumbled and fell headlong. It was but an instant and poor little Philip leaning on his bit of a crutch knew not what to do. His first thought was to ask God to help him, so he lifted his clear childish voice and cried: *'0 Father God, please send some one to help my Major's mother. Do make Beauty bark so loud that some one will come and help my dear Major's mother," 40 King Philip and saying this he threw himself upon the woman, who lay stunned by the fall with the red flame all about her. It was all over in a moment, for the Reverend Herbert Kimball was coming down the street at a rapid pace — the frantic barking of the dog — the shrill high- pitched voice of the child told him to quicken his pace and he was a man of action. Taking off his coat he soon beat out the fire and threw th6 garment over the prostrate woman. Tenderly he lifted the child in his arms and pressed him to his breast to see if the little heart were still beating. "He has fainted, it will be well with him in a moment and I must rouse the woman. She is stunned and must be badly burned." He placed the boy upon the grass and turn- ed his attention to Mrs. Carrington. As he touched her lightly she opened her eyes with a startled look and gazed about her. The minister spoke calmly as he tried to o/ Primrose Street 41 assist her to her feet, but she fell back with a groan. "Tell me where you live," said he, "and I will go for help." But help was already at hand, for the Major came toward them, walking leisurely through the garden. He saw it all — his wife's blackened gown — the good man was trying to help her rise, and his dear little Philip stretched out upon the grass. Together the men partly carried, partly led the woman to her home. There would be no scar on the fair face, but her back and an arm would always bear the marks of that afternoon. And what of little Philip? King Philip, the Major's beloved comrade? Well, he was nearly seven. Together the two men knelt over the little form as it lay before them and each looked at the other filled with thoughts he dared not utter. The Major gathered the child in his strong arms — he had known 4t King Philip and loved him all his short life and it seemed fitting that he should carry him home. The minister stooped and picked up the pitiful little crutch and as they turned toward the Sheldon home they met the mother coming in search of her son. She wore a gown of delicate blue — one which Philip much ad- mired — and she stepped smilingly forward to greet them, for it was no new thing to see the boy in the Major's arms. In another instant her heart gave a great bound and almost stood still. "Tell me, O tell me," she cried, **what has happened. Give him to me. Major, where is he hurt? Has he fainted? Tell me, O, tell me!" Gently they bore the child to the house and hastily called his father and a physician. The latter was first to arrive but there was no need. Philip had been so frightened that the weak young heart had simply ceased to beat. There had been no suffering — no pain, and he was almost seven. of Primrose Street 43 Up in the beautiful Carrington house there was pain and there was suffering. When the first was over it came out httle by Httle. The tiny red flame — the fall — the little one's effort to save "My Major's mother," as he had always called Mrs. Carrington, looking upon her as bearing the same relation to the Major that his own mother did to him, his dearest earthly possession. There was no scar left by fire on the beautiful features of Mrs. Carrington; only on an arm was there left any trace outward- ly, but it was not without its effect on the heart and life of the hitherto proud and haughty woman. A few weeks after little Philip had been laid away she expressed a desire to see the child's mother and the Major suggested that she be asked to come to the house, but this Mrs. Carrington re- fused to allow. "No, I will go to her as soon as I am able ; I cannot ask her to come 44 King Philip here," she replied; and so one afternoon when she thought AHce Sheldon would be alone she walked slowly and painfully toward the home of her neighbor. She had never crossed the threshold before and her heart was beating so rapidly that words seemed impossible; but she was not a woman to turn back when once her mind was made up, and in a moment Mrs. Shel- don opened the door and the two women stood face to face. For a second both stood transfixed and then Mrs. Carrington gath- ered the mother in her arms and both broke into sobs. Very tenderly the visitor led Alice Sheldon to a couch and took a seat beside her. *'Do not try to talk," she said. "I have something which I wish to tell you, I must tell it, I cannot keep it any longer. You know how I felt about your little boy at the first, but O, I have never told any one how I felt about him afterward. You never of Primrose Street 46 knew how I longed for him for my own. Many and many a time I have walked past this house just to see his little clothes hang- ing on the line, and one day the wind blew one of his tiny socks right in my path and I carried it home and kept it hid where no one could see it but myself. O, how I loved King Philip, tho' I would not own it even to myself; and now it is too late, may God forgive my wicked heart!'* She ceased to speak and the room was very still save for the broken sobs of both the women. Then the mother tried to speak through her tears. "O do not call yourself wicked. You did not mean to be, you were not wicked. Think what a dear friend the Major has always been to our little boy. God has been very kind to us, He let us keep him almost seven years. He never could have been like other children and now he will never be tired or sick; we would not call him back to us." 46 King Philip There was silence in the room, a silence broken only by the faint ticking of the clock ; and then the mother said: "I think I will tell you of something that happened the day we laid Philip away to rest. You may remember that it was cloudy that afternoon and had rained a little tho' it was as warm as springtime. As we passed into the cemetery we could not bear the sight of the little empty grave, and so we kept our eyes on the man, a common looking man in a brown sweater, who was taking all the beautiful flowers and throwing them in a heap upon the ground, at least that is the way it seemed to us. Afterwards we saw that he had been so arranging them that not one particle of the earth was to be seen and among these flowers was a bunch of marigolds which Peter Maloon had brought from his own little garden and they looked like a ray of sunshine. I shall never forget what Mr. Kimball, the minister, said to us. of Primrose Street 47 Xook', he said, 'at that exquisite mosaic. If a man Hke that can do such a marvelous piece of work with such rough handhng what may not the great and good Father do with this httle broken hfe. Is it not a striking analogy?' And ever since that afternoon we have thought and talked much about the incident and have grown to love and admire the man in the brown sweater almost as much as we love Mr. Kimball, for he opened our eyes to a great and wonder- ful truth. Little Philip's life shall blossom forever in the Paradise of God. " The room was in silence again for neither could speak, and in a few moments the visitor arose and with but a pressure of the white hand which she held,she left the house. Two years later a baby girl came into the home of the Sheldons and Mrs. Carrington begged that the child might be given her name, Virginia, and to this the father and mother agreed, thus bearing witness to a forgiveness which was enduring. MAY m 1§12 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 908 392 5