Speaker 1: A Christmas fairy by John's Strange Winter. It was getting
very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at
miss Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays.
I shall go to the Christmas festivals, said Bertie Fellows,
and my mother will have a party, and my aunt
will give another. Oh, I shall have a splendid time
at home. My uncle Bob is going to give me
a pair of skates, remarked Harry Watdham. My father is
going to give me a bicycle, put in George Alderson.
Will you bring it back to school with you, asked Carrie. Oh. Yes.
If miss Ware doesn't say no, well, Tom cried Bertie.
Where are you going to spend your holidays? I'm going
to stay here, answered Tom, in a very forlorn voice,
here at school. Oh dear, why can't you go home.
I can't go home to India, answered Tom. Nobody said
you could. But haven't you any relatives anywhere? Tom shook
his head. Only in India, he said, sadly, poor fellow,
that's hard luck for you. I'll tell you what it is. Boys.
If I couldn't go home for the holidays, especially at Christmas,
I think I would just sit down and die. Oh no,
you wouldn't, said Tom. You would get ever so homesick,
but you wouldn't die. You would just get through somehow
and hope something would happen before next year, or that
some kind of fairy would. There are no fairies nowadays,
said Bertie. See here, Tom, all right now, my mother
to invite you to go home with me for the holidays.
Will you really yes? I will? And if she says yes,
we shall have such a splendid time. We live in London,
you know, and have lots of parties and fun. Perhaps
she will say no, suggested poor little Tom. My mother
isn't the kind that says no, Bertie declared loudly. In
a few days time, a letter arrived from Bertie's mother.
The boy opened it eagerly. It said, my own dear Bertie,
I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice
is ill with scarlet fever, and so you cannot come
for your holidays. I would have been glad to have
you bring your little friend with you if all had
been well here. Your father and I have decided that
the best thing that you can do is to stay
at Miss War's. We shall send your Christmas to you
as well as we can. It will not be like
coming home, but I am sure you will try to
be happy and make me feel that you are helping
me in this sad time. Dear little Alice is very ill,
very ill. Indeed, tell Tom that I am sending you
a box for both of you, with two of everything,
and tell him that it makes me so much happier
to know that you will not be alone your own mother.
When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which ended all his
Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his face upon his
desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely boy from India, who
sat next to him tried to comfort his friend, and
every way he could think of he patted his shoulder
and whispered many kind words to him. At last, Bertie
put the letter into Tom's hands, read it, he sobbed
so then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief. Don't
fret over it, he said, at last, it might be
worse why your father and mother might be thousands of
miles away like mine are. When Alice is better, you
will be able to go home, and it will help
your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy
as if you could go now soon. Miss Ware came
to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him. After all,
she said, smiling down on the two boys. It is
an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has
been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now he
will have a friend with him. Try to look on
the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse
it would have been if there had been no boy
to stay with you. I can't help being disappointed, miss Ware,
said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears. No, you would
be a strange boy if you were not. But I
want you to try to think of your poor mother
and write her as cheerfully as you can. Yes, answered Bertie,
but his hard it was too full to say more.
The last day of the term came, and one by
one or two by two, the boys went away, until
only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house.
It had never seemed so large to either of them before.
It's miserable, groaned poor Bertie as they strolled into the schoolroom.
Just think if we were on our way home now,
how different. Just think if I had been left here
by myself, said Tom. Yes, said Bertie, but you know,
when one wants to go home, he never thinks of
the boys that have no home to go to. The
evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They
told stories to each other for a long time before
they could go to sleep. That night, they dreamed of
their homes and felt very lonely, yet each tried to
be brave, And so another day began. This was the
day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the
great Box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then,
just as dinner had come to an end, there was
a peal at the bell, and a voice was heard
asking for Tom Egerton. Tom sprang to his feet and
flew to greet a tall, handsome lady crying Aunt Laura.
Aunt Laura, and Laura explained that she and her husband
had arrived in London only the day before. I was
so afraid, Tom, She said that we should not get
here until Christmas Day was over, and that you would
be disappointed. So I would not let your mother write
you that we were on our way home. You must
get your things packed up at once and go back
with me to London. Then Uncle and I will give
you a splendid time for a minute or two, Tom's
face shone with delight. Then he caught sight of Bertie
and turned to his aunt, dear Aunt Laura. He said,
I am very sorry, but I can't go. Can't go,
and why not? Because I can't go and leave Bertie
here all alone, he said stoutly. When I was going
to be alone, he wrote, and asked his mother to
let me go home with him. She could not have
either of us because Bertie's sister as scarlet fever. He
has to stay here and ever been away from home
at Christmas time before, and I can't go in and
leave him by myself, Aunt Laura. For a minute, Aunt
Laura looked at the boy as if she could not
believe him. Then she caught him in her arms and
kissed him. You, dear little boy, you shall not leave him.
You shall bring him along and we shall all enjoy
ourselves together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet,
but I am going to teach you a lesson as
well as I can. It is that kindness is never
wasted in this world. And so Bertie and Tom found
that there was such a thing as a fairy after all.
End of a Christmas fairy by John's Strange Winter