Chapter 1

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THE EMPIRE ANNUAL FOR GIRLS

Edited by

A. R. BUCKLAND, M.A.

With Contributions by

LADY CATHERINE MILNES-GASKELL. Mrs. CREIGHTON. Mrs. MACQUOID. Mrs. BALFOUR MURPHY. Mrs. G. de HORNE VAIZEY. A. R. BUCKLAND. FRANK ELIAS. AGNES GIBERNE. SOMERVILLE GIBNEY. EDITH C. KENYON. M. E. LONGMORE. MAUD MADDICK. M. B. MANWELL. FLORENCE MOON. E. B. MOORE. MADELINE OYLER. HENRY WILLIAMS. Etc., etc.

With Coloured Plates and Sixteen Black and White Illustrations.

London: 4 Bouverie Street, E.C. 1911.

* * * * *

UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME 384 pp. demy 8vo, cloth gilt, with Coloured Plates and 16 Black and White Illustrations.

THE EMPIRE ANNUAL FOR BOYS

Edited by A. R. BUCKLAND, M.A.

With contributions by MORLEY ADAMS, W. GRINTON BERRY, TOM BEVAN, A. W. COOPER, W. S. DOUGLAS, FRANK ELIAS, LAURENCE M. GIBSON, W. J. GORDON, F. M. HOLMES, RAMSAY GUTHRIE, C. H. IRWIN, J. B. KNOWLTON, W. C. METCALFE, A. J. H. MOULE, ERNEST PROTHEROE, GORDON STABLES, C. E. TYNDALE-BISCOE, ETC., ETC.

* * * * *

CONTENTS

PAGE THE CHRISTMAS CHILD MRS. G. DE HORNE VAIZEY 9 _The story of a happy thought, a strange discovery, and a deed of love_

ANNA 22 MRS. MACQUOID _A girl's adventure for a father's sake_

TO GIRLS OF THE EMPIRE 39 MRS. CREIGHTON _Words of encouragement and stimulus to the daughters of the Nation_

MY DANGEROUS MANIAC 45 LESLIE M. OYLER _The singular adventure of two young people_

JIM RATTRAY, TROOPER 52 KELSO B. JOHNSON _A story of the North-West Mounted Police_

MARY'S STEPPING ASIDE 59 EDITH C. KENYON _Self-sacrifice bringing in the end its own reward_

A RACE FOR LIFE 66 LUCIE E. JACKSON _A frontier incident from the Far West_

WHICH OF THE TWO? 74 AGNES GIBERNE _A question of duty or inclination_

A CHRISTMAS WITH AUSTRALIAN BLACKS 89 J. S. PONDER _An unusual but interesting Christmas party described_

MY MISTRESS ELIZABETH 96 ANNIE ARMITT _A story of self-sacrifice and treachery in Sedgemoor days_

GIRL LIFE IN CANADA 114 JANEY CANUCK _Girl life described by a resident in Alberta_

SUCH A TREASURE! 120 EILEEN O'CONNOR _How a New Zealand girl found her true calling_

ROSETTE IN PERIL 131 M. LEFUSE _A girl's strange adventures in the war of La Vendée_

GOLF FOR GIRLS 143 AN OLD STAGER _Some practical advice to beginners and others_

SUNNY MISS MARTIN 148 SOMERVILLE GIBNEY _A story of misunderstanding, patience, and reconciliation_

WHILST WAITING FOR THE MOTOR 160 MADELINE OYLER _A warning to juvenile offenders_

THE GRUMPY MAN 165 MRS. HARTLEY PERKS _A child's intervention and its results_

DOGS WE HAVE KNOWN 183 LADY CATHERINE MILNES-GASKELL _True stories of dog life_

DAFT BESS 197 KATE BURNLEY BENT _A tale of the Cornish Coast_

A SPRINGTIME DUET 203 MARY LESLIE _A domestic chant for spring-cleaning days._

OUT OF DEADLY PERIL 204 K. BALFOUR MURPHY _A skating episode in Canada_

THE PEARL-RIMMED LOCKET 211 M. B. MANWELL _The detection of a strange offender_

REMBRANDT'S SISTER 221 HENRY WILLIAMS _A record of affection and self-sacrifice_

HEPSIE'S XMAS VISIT 230 MAUD MADDICK _A child's misdeed and its unexpected results_

OUR AFRICAN DRIVER 238 J. H. SPETTIGUE _A glimpse of South African life_

CLAUDIA'S PLACE 247 A. R. BUCKLAND _How Claudia changed her views_

FAMOUS WOMEN PIONEERS 260 FRANK ELIAS _Some of the women who have helped to open up new lands_

POOR JANE'S BROTHER 266 M. LING _The strange adventures of two little people_

THE SUGAR-CREEK HIGHWAYMAN 285 ADELA E. ORPEN _An alarm and a discovery_

DOROTHY'S DAY 294 M. E. LONGMORE _A day beginning in sorrow and ending in joy_

A STRANGE MOOSE HUNT 310 H. WILLIAM DAWSON _A hunt that nearly ended in a tragedy_

A GIRL'S PATIENCE 317 C. J. BLAKE _A difficult part well played_

THE TASMANIAN SISTERS 342 E. B. MOORE _A story of loving service and changed lives_

THE QUEEN OF CONNEMARA 362 FLORENCE MOON _An Irish girl's awakening_

ILLUSTRATIONS

IN COLOUR

ROSALIND'S RACE FOR LIFE _Frontispiece_

_Facing Page_

"THE SON OF MAN CAME NOT TO BE MINISTERED UNTO, BUT TO MINISTER" 44

"YOUR SISTER IS COMING?" HE SAID 80

MRS. MEADOWS' BROTHER ARRIVED 130

AT THE SHOW 184

"DO FORGIVE ME, MOTHER DARLING!" 232

HER HOSTESS HAD BEEN FEEDING THE PEACOCKS 308

IN BLACK AND WHITE

"I SHAN'T PLAY IF YOU FELLOWS ARE SO ROUGH!" 38

GERALD LOOKS PUZZLED 46

IT WAS UNDER A NOBLE TREE THAT MAX ASKED MARY TO MARRY HIM 64

"GALLANTS LOUNGING IN THE PARK" 98

LOOKING AT HIM, I SAW THAT HE WAS HAGGARD AND STRANGE 106

GOLF FOR GIRLS--A BREEZY MORNING 144

SELINA MARTYN GAVE HER ANSWER 158

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE COME ABOUT THE GAS BILL" 170

THE ROCK SHE CLUNG TO GAVE WAY 200

SPRING CLEANING 203

HORRIBLE DREAMS OF MONSTERS AND DEMONS 216

HER VERY YOUTH PLEADED FOR HER 249

BARBARA'S VISIT 268

"AS HE KISSED HIS FIRSTBORN UNDER THE MISTLETOE" 340

"NOW I AM GOING TO FAN YOU," SHE SAID 348

EILY STOOD A FORLORN, DESOLATE FIGURE ON EUSTON PLATFORM 366

INDEX TO AUTHORS

PAGE ARMITT, ANNIE 96 BENT, KATE BURNLEY 197 BLAKE, C. J. 317 BUCKLAND, A. R. 247 CANUCK, JANEY 114 CREIGHTON, MRS. 39 DAWSON, H. WILLIAM 310 ELIAS, FRANK 260 GIBERNE, AGNES 74 GIBNEY, SOMERVILLE 148 JACKSON, LUCIE E. 66 JOHNSON, KELSO B. 52 KENYON, EDITH C. 59 LEFUSE, M. 131 LESLIE, MARY 203 LING, M. 266 LONGMORE, M. E. 294 MACQUOID, MRS. 22 MADDICK, MAUD 230 MANWELL, M. B. 211 MILNES-GASKELL, LADY CATHERINE 183 MOON, FLORENCE 362 MOORE, E. B. 342 MURPHY, K. BALFOUR 204 O'CONNOR, EILEEN 120 OLD STAGER, AN 143 OYLER, LESLIE M. 45 OYLER, MADELINE 160 ORPEN, ADELA E. 285 PERKS, MRS. HARTLEY 165 PONDER, J. S. 89 SPETTIGUE, J. H. 238 VAIZEY, MRS. G. DE HORNE 9 WILLIAMS, HENRY 221

[Sidenote: A happy thought, a cross-country journey, a strange discovery, another happy thought, and many still happier thoughts hereafter!]

The Christmas Child

BY

MRS. G. DE HORNE VAIZEY

Jack said: "Nonsense! We are all grown up now. Let Christmas alone. Take no notice of it; treat it as if it were an ordinary day."

Margaret said: "The servants have all begged for leave. Most of their mothers are dying, and if they are not, it's a sister who is going to be married. Really, it's a servants' ball which the Squire is giving in the village hall. Mean, I call it, to decoy one's maids just when one needs them most!"

Tom said: "Beastly jolly dull show anyhow, to spend the day alone with your brothers and sisters. Better chuck it at once!"

Peg said firmly and with emphasis: "_Heathen!_ Miserable, cold-blooded, materially-minded _frogs_! Where's your Christmas spirit, I should like to know? . . . If you have none for yourselves, think of other people. Think of _me_! I love my Christmas, and I'm not going to give it up for you or any one else. My very first Christmas at home as a growed-up lady, and you want to diddle me out of it. . . . Go to! Likewise, avaunt! Now by my halidom, good sirs, you know not with whom you have to deal. 'Tis my royal pleasure the revels proceed!"

Jack grimaced eloquently at Margaret, who grimaced back.

"With all the pleasure in the world," he said suavely. "Show me a revel, and I'll revel with the best. I like revels. What I do _not_ like is to stodge at home eating an indigestible meal, and pretending that I'm full of glee, when in reality I'm bored to death. If you could suggest a change. . . ."

Margaret sighed; Tom sniffed; Peg pursed up her lips and thought. Presently her eyes brightened. "Of course," she remarked tentatively, "there are the Revells!"

Jack flushed and bit his lips.

"Quite so! There are. Fifty miles away, and not a spare bed in the house. Lot of good they are to us, to be sure! Were you going to suggest that we dropped in for a quiet call? Silly nonsense, to talk of a thing like that."

Jack was quite testy and huffed, for the suggestion touched a tender point. The Revells were the friends _par excellence_ of the family of which he was the youthful head. It seemed, indeed, as if the two households had been specially manufactured so that each should fit the wants of the other. Jack was very certain that, in any case, Myra Revell supplied all that _he_ lacked, and the very thought of spending Christmas Day in her company sent a pang of longing through his heart. Margaret cherished a romantic admiration for Mrs. Revell, who was still a girl at heart despite the presence of a grown-up family. Dennis was at Marlborough with Tom; while Pat or Patricia was Peg's bosom chum.

What could you wish for more? A Christmas spent with the Revells would be a pure delight; but alas! fifty miles of some of the wildest and bleakest country in England stretched between the two homes, which, being on different lines of railway, were inaccessible by the ordinary route. Moreover, the Revells were, as they themselves cheerfully declared, "reduced paupers," and inhabited a picturesquely dilapidated old farmhouse, and the problem, "_Where do they all sleep?_" was as engrossing as a jig-saw puzzle to their inquisitive friends. Impossible that even a cat could be invited to swing itself within those crowded portals; equally impossible to attempt to separate such an affectionate family at Christmas-time of all seasons of the year.

[Sidenote: Peg Startles Everybody]

And yet here was Peg deliberately raking up the painful topic; and after the other members of the family had duly reproached and abused, ready to level another bolt at their heads.

"S--uppose we went a burst--hired a car, drove over early in the morning, and marched into church before their very eyes!"

Silence! Sparkling eyes; alert, thoughtful gaze. Could they? Should they? Would it be right? A motor for the day meant an expenditure of four or five pounds, and though the exchequer was in a fairly prosperous condition, five-pound notes could not be treated with indifference. Still, in each mind ran the echo of Peg's words. It was Christmas-time. Why should they not, just for once, give themselves a treat--themselves, and their dear friends into the bargain?

The sparkle deepened; a flash passed from eye to eye, a flash of determination! Without a word of dissent or discussion the proposal was seconded, and carried through.

"Fifty miles! We can't go above twenty-five an hour through those bad roads. We shall have to be off by nine, if we want to be in time for church. What _will_ they think when they see us marching in?"

"No, no, we mustn't do that. Mrs. Revell would be in a fever the whole time, asking herself, '_Will the pudding go round?_' It really wouldn't be kind," pleaded Margaret earnestly, and her hearers chuckled reminiscently. Mrs. Revell was a darling, but she was also an appallingly bad housekeeper. Living two miles from the nearest shop, she yet appeared constitutionally incapable of "thinking ahead"; and it was a common experience to behold at the afternoon meal different members of the family partaking respectively of tea, coffee, and cocoa, there being insufficient of any one beverage to go round.

Margaret's sympathies went out involuntarily towards her friend, but her listeners, it is to be feared, were concerned entirely for themselves. It might be the custom to abuse the orthodox Christmas dinner, but since it _was_ a national custom which one did not care to break, it behoved one to have as good a specimen as possible, and the prospect of short commons, and indifferent short commons at that, was not attractive. _Who_ could be sure that the turkey might not arrive at the table singed and charred, and the pudding in a condition of _soup_?

Schoolboy Tom was quick with a suggestion.

"I say--tell you what! Do the surprise-party business, and take a hamper with us. . . . Only decent thing to do, when you march in four strong to another person's feed. Dennis would love a hamper----"

"Ha! Good! Fine idea! So we will! A real old-fashioned hamper, full of all the good things they are least likely to have. Game pie----"

"Tongue--one of those big, shiny fellows, with scriggles of sugar down his back----"

"Ice-pudding in a tin----"

"Fancy creams----"

"French fruits----"

"Crackers! Handsome ones, with things inside that are worth having----"

"Bon-bons----"

Each one had a fresh suggestion to make, and Margaret scribbled them all down on the ivory tablet which hung from her waist, and promptly adjourned into the kitchen to give the necessary orders, and to rejoice the hearts of her handmaidens by granting a day's leave all round.

On further consideration it was decided to attend early service at home, and to start off on the day's expedition at eleven o'clock, arriving at the Revell homestead about one, by which time it was calculated that the family would have returned from church, and would be hanging aimlessly about the garden, in the very mood of all others to welcome an unexpected excitement.

Christmas Day broke clear and bright. Punctual to the minute the motor came puffing along, the youthful-looking chauffeur drawing up before the door with an air of conscious complaisance.

Despite his very professional attire--perhaps, indeed, because of it--so very youthful did he appear, that Jack was visited by a qualm.

"Er--er--are you going to drive us all the way?" he inquired anxiously. "When I engaged the car, I saw . . . I thought I had arranged with----"

"My father, sir. It was my father you saw. Father said, being Christmas Day, he didn't care to turn out, so he sent me----"

"You are a qualified driver--quite capable . . . ?"

[Sidenote: A Good Start]

The lad smiled, a smile of ineffable calm. His eyelids drooped, the corners of his mouth twitched and were still. He replied with two words only, an unadorned "Yes, sir," but there was a colossal, a Napoleonic confidence in his manner, which proved quite embarrassing to his hearers. Margaret pinched Jack's arm as a protest against further questionings; Jack murmured something extraordinarily like an apology; then they all tumbled into the car, tucked the rugs round their knees, turned up the collars of their coats, and sailed off on the smooth, swift voyage through the wintry air.

For the first hour all went without a hitch. The youthful chauffeur drove smoothly and well; he had not much knowledge of the countryside; but as Jack knew every turn by heart, having frequently bicycled over the route, no delay was caused, and a merrier party of Christmas revellers could not have been found than the four occupants of the tonneau. They sang, they laughed, they told stories, and asked riddles; they ate sandwiches out of a tin, and drank hot coffee out of a thermos flask, and congratulated themselves, not once, but a dozen times, over their own ingenuity in hitting upon such a delightful variation to the usual Christmas programme.

More than half the distance had been accomplished; the worst part of the road had been reached, and the car was beginning to bump and jerk in a somewhat uncomfortable fashion. Jack frowned, and looked at the slight figure of the chauffeur with a returning doubt.

"He's all right on smooth roads, but this part needs a lot of driving. Another time----" He set his lips, and mentally rehearsed the complaints which he would make to "my father" when he paid the bill. Margaret gave a squeal, and looked doubtfully over the side.

"I--I suppose it's all right! What would happen if he lost control, and we slipped back all the way downhill?"

"It isn't a question of control. It's a question of the strength of the car. It's powerful enough for worse hills than this."

"What's that funny noise? It didn't sound like that before. Kind of a clickety-clack. . . . Don't you hear it?"

"No. Of course not. Don't be stupid and imagine things that don't exist. . . . What's the difference between----"

Jack nobly tried to distract attention from the car, but before another mile had been traversed, the clickety-clack noise grew too loud to be ignored, the car drew up with a jerk, and the chauffeur leaped out.

"I must just see----" he murmured vaguely; vaguely also he seemed to grope at the machinery of the car, while the four occupants of the tonneau hung over the doors watching his progress; then once more springing to his seat, he started the car, and they went bumping unevenly along the road. No more singing now; no more laughing and telling of tales; deep in each breast lay the presage of coming ill; four pairs of eyes scanned the dreary waste of surrounding country, while four brains busily counted up the number of miles which still lay between them and their destination. Twenty miles at least, and not a house in sight except one dreary stone edifice standing back from the road, behind a mass of evergreen trees.

"This fellow is no good for rough roads. He would wear out a car in no time, to say nothing of the passengers. Can't think why we haven't had a puncture before now!" said Jack gloomily; whereupon Margaret called him sharply to order.

"Don't say such things . . . don't think them. It's very wrong. You ought always to expect the best----"

"Don't suppose my thinking is going to have any effect on rubber, do you?" Jack's tone was decidedly snappy. He was a lover, and it tortured him to think that an accident to the car might delay his meeting with his love. He had never spent a Christmas Day with Myra before; surely on this day of days she would be kinder, sweeter, relax a little of her proud restraint. Perhaps there would be mistletoe. . . . Suppose he found himself alone with Myra beneath the mistletoe bough? Suppose he kissed her? Suppose she turned upon him with her dignified little air and reproached him, saying he had no right? Suppose he said, "_Myra! will you give me the right?_" . . .

No wonder that the car seemed slow to the lover's mind; no wonder that every fresh jerk and strain deepened the frown on his brow. The road was strewn with rough, sharp stones; but in another mile or two they would be on a smooth high-road once more. If only they could last out those few miles!

[Sidenote: A Puncture]

Bang! A sharp, pistol-like noise rent the air, a noise which told its own tale to the listening ears. A tyre had punctured, and a dreary half-hour's delay must be faced while the youthful chauffeur repaired the damage. The passengers leaped to the ground, and exhausted themselves in lamentations. They were already behind time, and this new delay would make them later than ever. . . . Suddenly they became aware that they were cold and tired--shivering with cold. Peg looked down at her boots, and supposed that there were feet inside, but as a matter of sensation it was really impossible to say. Margaret's nose was a cheery plaid--blue patches neatly veined with red. Jack looked from one to the other and forgot his own impatience in anxiety for their welfare.

"Girls, you look frozen! Cut away up to that house, and ask them to let you sit by the fire for half an hour. Much better than hanging about here. I'll come for you when we are ready."