Please, Mrs. Platt, can I see Teddy?" It was Nancy who was standing at the farmhouse door one lovely Sunday evening.
"I think he is out in the clover field. Don't you be romping around with him now, for he has taken his Sunday book out, and is as quiet as can be." Old Mrs. Platt was the only one at home. She motioned with her hand where her little grandson would be found.
Nancy discovered him a few minutes later, lying full length in the sweet-scented clover, an open book before him. When he raised his face to hers, it wore his most angelic look.
"Hello! What have you come here for?" he asked.
"To talk to you," and, without more ado, Nancy squatted down beside him. "What are you doing?" she went on; "And what is your Sunday book?"
"It's the Pilgrim's Progress. I love it. Don't you? I haven't been reading it though for a long time. I've been having a beautiful make-up."
"Tell me," and Nancy's tone was eager. Teddy looked away to the purple hills in the distance, and beyond and above them to the soft evening sky, with its delicate fleecy clouds flitting by, and taking every imaginable form and shape as they did so.
The dreamy, far-away look came into his eyes as he said slowly, "It's a Sunday make-believe, quite one to myself. I have never told it to anyone. I can only tell it to myself out of doors, when it is still and quiet. Then I feel sometimes it's quite real!"
"Do tell me," pleaded Nancy coaxingly.
"Well, it's getting to heaven after I'm there, you know."
Nancy's eyes grew big with awe.
"Shall I tell you how I begin it?"
She nodded, and Teddy, turning over on his side,
brought forth another book a New Testament.
Turning to an open page he began to read with great emphasis, 'And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God.'"
"That's the Bible," said Nancy.
"Yes; now listen. I'm lying here in this field; it's very, very still. I hear a little rustle behind. I don't look around, and then, flash! comes a beautiful white angel. Now he's standing in front of me."
"What's he like?"
"He's dressed in white, shiny stuff. He has very white, feathery wings. His face is smiling. He has eyes
like mother's, and hair like Sally White's."
'Flaxen,' Mother says it is," put in Nancy.
"Yes; he stands quite still. Hush! Hear him! 'Teddy, I've come to fetch you to heaven.' And then I stand up. I listen hard, but I don't say anything. He says, 'You haven't been altogether a good soldier, but the Captain says He wants you. Come along.' Then I get up and sit myself between his wings, and put my arms around his neck, and he begins to go up. I see Mother, and Granny, and Uncle Jake, and I wave my hand to them. Mother throws a kiss at me and calls out, 'Give my love to Father,' and away we go, over our fields and across the high road, and over Farmer Green's fields. Then we fly right to the top of that mountain over there!"
"Do let me come, too!" said Nancy. "I want to be on the angel's back with you."
"Perhaps you can follow behind on another angel. I want mine all to myself. We get up to the top of the mountain, then I stand down on the ground."
"And me, too!" put in Nancy.
"You must not keep stopping me. I can't feel it if you do. I stand there. I think at first I can't see nothing but a lot of little soft clouds, one above the other, just like those over there; but the angel says, Put your foot on one of them, and then on the next one-they are the steps to heaven!"'
"Oh!" gasped Nancy, following it with keen reality. "You'll tumble!"
"I don't. It's like putting your foot in cotton wool. I go up—I have to go quite by myself, but the angel comes behind, to see I don't fall. And then he says, `Look up. Don't you see the gates?' And then I look, and I see them—shining golden gates, very big, and covered with jewels like Mrs. Graham wears on her fingers. I go up and up, and then I'm there."
"Is that all?"
"Why, that's just the beginning. I'm only outside. The gates are shut, but when they see me coming, two more angels come and swing them wide open. I'm feeling rather frightened, but I walk in. There's a long wide street made like the gates. I walk very carefully, for fear of slipping down. Then I see a lot of angels coming along with trumpets. They go first and begin to play like the soldiers' band. I march on to a very, very, very big door. There on the steps leading up stands my Captain."
Teddy paused. "I can't tell you what He's like, but I feel what He's like myself. Such a loving, kind face. He puts His hand on my head and says, 'Well done, Teddy!' And then I take hold of His hand. I think I cry."
Matter-of-fact Nancy sees with surprise that Teddy's eyes are filling with tears at the thought.
He went on softly, "I think He takes me up in His arms then, because I'm very tired. He carries me into the most beautiful garden you ever saw in your life. He takes me to my father, who is waiting there."
"Tell me what the garden's like."
Teddy does not speak. He is full of the meeting with his father. Nancy waits a little impatiently.
"The garden is lovely," he said at last, drawing in a breath of delight at the thought. "It's always sunny and warm. The grass is very soft and green. There's every flower in the world all bunched up together. The seats are made of roses. If you want to go to sleep, the pillows are made up of violets. There's a beautiful river, and trees full of apples and oranges, and plums and pears. The banks are red-they are made of strawberries."
"Oh!" gasped Nancy, "how lovely!"
"There are summer-houses, and little white boats to row on the river. There are golden harps hanging up on the trees. Then I think, I hope, there are lots of dogs running about. You can ride all day on lions, and tigers, and bears. They won't bite you, but lick your hands."
"Go on. What else?"
"Then we stand up and sing hymns when my Captain comes by. We play on the harps, and blow the trumpets as much as ever we like. I think my Captain sometimes comes and sits down and talks to us and tells us stories."
There was silence; then Nancy said, "Is that all?" "That's enough for you," said Teddy, a little condescendingly. "I think and make believe a lot more."
"I want to go to heaven," Nancy said thoughtfully.
Then Teddy came back to earth.
"Have you enlisted yet?" he asked.
"I'm not going to be a soldier," said Nancy quickly.
"Well, you'll never get to heaven if you don't fight for our Captain now. He won't let you inside the gates unless you belong to Him. Girls can fight just as much as boys."
"Of course they can. I can fight as well as you, button-boy!"
"Why don't you fight your enemy, then?"
"What enemy?"
"My enemy is called Ipse. He's a dreadful trouble to me. You have got yours the thing inside you that makes you want to do naughty things. You've got to fight it. Do the good things instead. I've had two fights with Ipse today."
"Have you? Do tell me!"
"You mustn't tell any one, then. It was in church this morning. There was an old woman in front of me. She'd untied her bonnet. The ribbons fell over in our pew. She went fast asleep in the sermon, and nodded her head back until it almost tumbled off her head. Ipse thought if I would put out my hand and just give a tiny, weeny pull at the ribbon, it would come right off!"
Nancy clapped her hands. "Why didn't you? What fun!"
"I wanted to let Ipse have his way dreadful, but I remembered I must fight him, and I did. I asked my Captain to help me. Then I put both my hands in my pockets and screwed up my eyes tight. But I was glad when she woke up and tied her bonnet on again."
"That was much better than I could have done. What was the other fight you had?"
"Uncle Jake brought some fresh honey from the hives. He put it on a plate in the window in the kitchen. He'd said when he went out of the room, 'Don't touch that, Teddy,' as I was waiting for Mother to come to church with me. I went up and looked at it. Ipse said to me, 'Just put one finger in it.' And I had to fight him very hard over that, but I ran away out of the room."
"And do you always fight him hard?"
"No; I often forget until it's too late. Mother said I must ask my Captain to make me remember. I do ask Him a lot to help me."
"I don't think I like that sort of fighting."
"Nancy, I wish you would give yourself to God as His soldier." Teddy turned around earnestly as he spoke.
"I think," said Nancy slowly, "I like to be naughty best." Then she added, with a quick change of tone, "My father is coming home soon. He'll come to see us here. Then you'll see what a grand sailor he is. He is much grander than your father was."
"My father was an officer," said Teddy proudly. "So's my father. He is a first-class petty officer," and Nancy brought out the words slowly and with much emphasis.
"My father was a non-commissioned officer," said Teddy, determining not to be beaten. "He was a full sergeant."
"My father gives orders to all the sailors, and they have to do what he tells them."
"So did my father. He led the soldiers through a battle."
"My father will fight in twenty battles before he dies. Yours only fought in one."
"My father is in heaven, and that's the grandest place to be in."
Coming to this climax was too much for Nancy, and the thoughts of that place of which they had been having so much talk subdued their rising ire.
Teddy said reproachfully, after a minute's silence, "Ipse was nearly getting angry with you then. You are such a dreadful girl for making me quarrel with you."
"You won't let me say my father is as good as yours," protested Nancy.
"He isn't better. Yes-don't get angry, Nancy; let's say they're just the same."
And with this admission Nancy was for the time pacified.
Before they parted she looked at her little companion with solemn eyes.
"I won't promise, but I'll think about belonging to the Captain. I should like to go to heaven."
It was one day soon after this that Teddy was straying over the fields in his happy, careless fashion. Fond as he was of games with the village boys, often there were times when he liked his own society best. He wandered on talking to himself, and gathering grass and wild flowers as he went. His quick eyes soon noted some sheep making their way through a gap in the hedge, and from there they were going through an open gate into the high road.
"Those are Farmer Green's sheep," he said to himself. "I'm glad of it-horrid old man he is! No, Ipse, be quiet; that isn't the way to think of him. I'll go and drive them back again!"
And he trotted off with this intention. But it is much more difficult to get sheep into their rightful place than out of it. This Teddy found to his cost. His face was hot and red, his voice hoarse with shouting. Then, to his consternation, Farmer Green appeared on the scene.
"You young vagabond!" he shouted, springing toward him, a thick stick in his hand. "Leave my sheep alone! How dare you come on my premises? You're always after some fresh trick or other."
Teddy stood still until he came up to him. Teddy looked up frankly at Farmer Green.
"Indeed, Sir, I was trying to drive them back through their hole again. Look, that's where they broke through."
"A likely story! Much more probable you made the hole yourself."
Teddy's blood rushed into his face. "I never tell a lie!" he cried, "and you are a..."
He stopped, and hung his head in shame at the word that almost slipped from him.
Jonathan Green looked curiously at him.
"Now may I ask what the end of that speech was going to be?" he said grimly.
Teddy looked up. "Ipse was going to say you were a liar yourself, but I just stopped him in time."
"I shall believe you have a bee in your bonnet, as some folks say," said the farmer. "If the sheep came out of their proper field, what business was that of yours?"
"I wanted to be good to you. I'm sorry I tied you up that day, dreadful sorry. And I've got to love you. So I thought it would be a good plan to send your sheep back again."
"You've got to love me!" repeated the farmer, opening his eyes in mock surprise. "And when did I ask for any of your love, young fellow?"
"I don't suppose you want me to," observed Teddy cheerfully, as he saw that the stick, instead of being brandished over his head, was now safely resting on the ground, "but I've got to do it, you see, because my banner I'm holding for my Captain is Love. And I must love everybody."
The farmer did not answer.
Teddy continued earnestly, "Do you think you could manage to forgive me, and let us shake hands? It
would make it easier for me to love you if you could."
There was such honesty of purpose in the blue eyes raised to his, such wistful curves to the sensitive little lips, that Jonathan Green for the first time felt the thrall of the child's power.
"Come into the house with me," he said, "and I'll see what the missis has to say to you."
Teddy followed him without the slightest misgiving. He was led into the farmhouse kitchen, where Mrs. Green sat knitting over the fire. One of her daughters was laying the cloth for tea.
"Mary Ann, here's the scamp of the village come to see you. Keep him here till I come back. I'm after some stray sheep;" and shutting the door with a bang the farmer disappeared.
Teddy shook hands with the old lady and the young one, and then seated himself in the big chair opposite Mrs. Green.
"What have you been doing?" the latter inquired; "how is it your mother can't keep you out of mischief?"
"I haven't been in mischief Really I haven't"; and poor Teddy felt the truth of the saying, "Give a dog a bad name and hang him."
He tried to tell his story, and then when that did not seem to be understood, he deftly changed the subject.
"What does Farmer Green like best in the world?" he asked.
This astonishing question struck Mrs. Green dumb, but her daughter Natty laughed.
"Gooseberry pudding!" she said. "Now then, what is the next question?"
But Teddy was silent, and not another word did he say until the farmer came in again.
"This youngster is on the tack of reforming himself, Mary Ann," said Jonathan, sitting down in the chair that Teddy immediately vacated upon his entrance. "Do you believe it?"
"I have no faith in boys," said Mrs. Green, with a shake of her head. "They're all alike, and are always taking you unawares!"
"You hear what the missis says. You won't get any help from that quarter. But I'll give you a chance. Would you like to have tea with us?"
Teddy smiled. "Thank you, Sir, but Mother will expect me home for tea. May I go now? And do you forgive me for what I did the other day?"
Farmer Green stretched out a rough hand, and took the boy's small one. "Here's my hand on it!" he said with his grim smile. "I may be a fool for believing you, but if you are sorry for the past, I won't be the one to rake it up."
Teddy's upward look was so full of innocence that he received a clap on the shoulder.
"Run along. You have made your peace with me." And speeding away Teddy whispered to himself, "I shall ask Mother to make it. I shall pick the gooseberries myself. Then he'll know I love him!"
Farmer Green was very bewildered a few days after at receiving a parcel which was left at his house by some boys on their way back from school; he was still more puzzled when upon opening it. It proved to be a gooseberry pudding in a basin with a piece of paper attached to it with these words in very shaky writing, I send you my love.
—Teddy.
But his daughter was able to enlighten him. They had a hearty laugh over Teddy's mode of confirming the truce of friendship.