The Old Worcester Jug by Eglanton Thorne

LEAVING the old curiosity shop, the pale-faced widow and her child passed slowly up the lane. Maggie held her mother's hand, not for her own protection, but in order that she might guide the invalid's feeble steps, which faltered from time to time as her strength threatened to give way.

"Was that a good old man, mamma? " she asked, as they went along.

"I hope so, dear. I trust he has dealt fairly with me, for I can ill afford to be cheated out of a single penny," said her mother, with a weary sigh.

"What will he do with the jug, mamma? " said Maggie.

"He will sell it, I suppose," her mother replied.

"And will he give you the money, mamma? " asked the child.

The simple question brought a faint, sad smile to the widow's face, as she answered, "Oh no, dear; he has given me all the money I shall get for it."

"Has he given you a lot of money, mamma? " asked Maggie. "Will you be able to buy cakes and jam again?"

Her mother shook her head. "Ah no, my poor child," she said, sadly. "I cannot give you cakes and jam. If only we can get bread for the next week or two, till I am strong again, we may be thankful. God grant I may soon be fit for work!"

Little Maggie looked disappointed. She had hoped that the happier days she had known when she was younger were about to return, but she held up her head, and said bravely: "I don't mind much, mamma. I can do without jam; and God will take care of us, won't He, mamma?"

"Bless you, my little comfort," said her mother, wondering if any other child of eight would have borne want so well. "Yes, I must trust in God. He has never failed me yet. He is far kinder than man. But oh, my heart is very heavy to-night."

They went on slowly till they came to a baker's shop, which they entered, much to Maggie's satisfaction, for the talk about jam had made her painfully conscious of a craving for food. The widow gave her child one of the large brown rolls which lay on the counter, and then asked for some milk.

"We don't sell milk," said the woman in charge of the shop. Then, touched by her customer's look of suffering, and the sad little face of the child, she added, "But I have a little I can give you, if you like."

Maggie was eyeing the roll with hungry eagerness; but ere she began to eat it, she said, pleadingly, "You will have some, mamma, won't you?"

"Yes, dear child," said her mother, "I will try to eat for your sake. " And she broke off a piece of the roll, and dipping it into the milk the woman had brought, she put it to her lips. But she could only swallow a few morsels.

"You look very bad," said the shopwoman, meaning to be sympathetic; "have you been ill long?"

"Yes, a long time," said the widow, wearily; "but I am better, I am stronger to-day."

When Maggie had eaten the last crumb of her roll, and drained the cup of milk, to her now an unwonted luxury, her mother paid for their repast out of the money she had received from the china-dealer, and rising from the chair on which she had sunk exhausted on entering the shop, prepared to go on her way. The rest and refreshment seemed to have revived her somewhat. She was able to walk more quickly and steadily as they went out of the shop.

"Are we going home now, mamma? " asked the child.

"No, not yet," said her mother; and she walked on in the same direction as before.