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A Christmas Child A Sketch of a Boy-Life   By: (1839-1921)

Book cover

First Page:

A CHRISTMAS CHILD

A Sketch of a Boy Life

by

MRS. MOLESWORTH

Author of 'Carrots,' 'Cuckoo Clock,' Etc.

Illustration: "The Story of Sunny." Frontispiece .

Illustration: Skating Scene

Illustrated by Walter Crane

'O Christmas, merry Christmas! Is it really come again? With its memories and greetings, With its joy and with its pain.'

London Macmillan And Co. 1880

TO The Two Friends WHO WILL BEST UNDERSTAND THIS SIMPLE LITTLE STORY I DEDICATE IT WITH MUCH AFFECTION

Paris, May 1880.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. BABY TED 1

CHAPTER II. IN THE GARDEN 18

CHAPTER III. WISHES AND FEARS 37

CHAPTER IV. THE STORY OF SUNNY 58

CHAPTER V. THE STORY OF SUNNY ( Concluded ) 76

CHAPTER VI. LITTLE NARCISSA 94

CHAPTER VII. GETTING BIG 116

CHAPTER VIII. "STATISTICS" 137

CHAPTER IX. A PEACOCK'S FEATHER AND A KISS 161

CHAPTER X. SOME RAINY ADVENTURES 179

CHAPTER XI. "IT'S ONLY I, MOTHER" 200

CHAPTER XII. THE WHITE CROSS 216

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

"THE STORY OF SUNNY" Frontispiece

"I WISH THOO'D LET ME HELP THOO TO CUT THE GRASS" To face page 32

"SHE HUNTED ABOUT AMONG THE LEAVES AND BRANCHES TILL SHE FOUND A LITTLE SILVER KNOB" " 83

"BABY SHOWED, OR TED THOUGHT SHE DID, A QUITE EXTRAORDINARY LOVE FOR THE BOUQUETS HER LITTLE BROTHER ARRANGED FOR HER" " 98

"OH DEAR, OH DEAR!" CRIES BEAUTY, JUMPING UP IN A FRIGHT, "HE'S COMING TO EAT ME" " 133

"THEY WERE NEATLY TACKED ON TO THE FEATHER CARD, WHICH HAD A VERY FINE EFFECT ON THE WALL OF THE MUSEUM" " 170

"MASTER TED, VERY WET INDEED, MADE HIS APPEARANCE WITH ROSY CHEEKS AND A GENERAL LOOK OF SELF SATISFACTION" " 194

CHAPTER I.

BABY TED.

"Where did you get those eyes so blue?" "Out of the sky as I came through."

Christmas week a good many years ago. Not an "old fashioned" Christmas this year, for there was no snow or ice; the sky was clear and the air pure, but yet without the sharp, bracing clearness and purity that Master Jack Frost brings when he comes to see us in one of his nice, bright, sunny humours. For he has humours as well as other people not only is he fickle in the extreme, but even black sometimes, and he is then, I can assure you, a most disagreeable visitor. But this Christmas time he had taken it into his head not to come at all, and the world looked rather reproachful and disconcerted. The poor, bare December world it misses its snow garment, so graciously hiding all imperfections revealed by the absence of green grass and fluttering leaves; it misses, too, its winter jewels of icicles and hoar frost. Poor old world! What a great many Decembers you have jogged through; no wonder you begin to feel that you need a little dressing up and adorning, like a beauty no longer as young as she has been. Yet ever young world, too! Who, that gazes at March's daffodils and sweet April's primroses, can believe that the world is growing old? Sometimes one could almost wish that it would leave off being so exquisitely, so heartlessly young. For the daffodils nod their golden heads, the primroses smile up through their leafy nests year after year, they never fail us. But the children that loved them so; the little feet that trotted so eagerly down the lanes, the tiny hands that gathered the flower treasures with such delight where are they all? Men and women, some in far off lands, perhaps; or too wearied by cares and sorrows to look for the spring flowers of long ago... Continue reading book >>




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