"He's singin' once more and a playin'," Aunt Stanshy said to a neighbor, "jest as nice as can be. It does me good to see him."

And Tim Tyler--where was he?

His sister Ann did hope he would be reached, but she folded her old shawl about her shoulders and went away from the meeting, saying sorrowfully to herself, "Tim didn't come."

No, he was not at the meeting. He did not show any interest in the movement.

"But--but we can't give him up," some of his praying friends whispered.

And when our prayers refuse to let the angel of blessing go, was that angel ever known to forsake us?

CHAPTER XV.

THE FAIR.

Poor Charlie! His life did not seem to him to be altogether agreeable.

Being fat and good-natured, the boys were rather disposed to pick on him.

Then a standing vexation at school was his arithmetic. In addition to these things, he had a special trouble one day to grieve him. His cla.s.s was reading a selection called the "Miller." The teacher, Mr. Armstrong, permitted the members of the cla.s.s to remain in their desks and there read. Charlie abused this privilege by clapping his head below his desk, and while the boys in another part of the room were reading, he was doing his best to pack away a corn-ball.

"Time enough," he had concluded, "before it is my time to read, to have something good to pay for my old arithmetic."

His mouth was full of corn-ball and preparing itself to take in more, when his teacher, watching the long detention of Charlie's head in such a humble posture, and suspicious of the real reason, stole softly up behind Charlie and, looking over his shoulder, was puzzled to decide whether the corn-ball was going into Charlie or he into the corn-ball. He quietly stole back to his desk and there abruptly shouted, "Macomber, you may read about the 'Miller' at once."

The shot struck. Charlie bounded up in great confusion, his month full of corn-ball!

"Hold, Macomber!" said the master, in a very sarcastic way. "It must be evident to you that a man cannot successfully read about the grinding of corn, and yet be grinding corn in his mouth at the same time." Then he broke out into a roar, "Stand out in the floor! You may do any further grinding there. Stop after school, also!"

Unfortunate Charlie! When he went home at a late hour Aunt Stanshy was disposed to rebuke him for his tardiness. This was too much for Charlie.

He broke out into a whimper: "I think I have a sad life, only scoldings at home and scoldings and arithmetic at school."

"O, no!" said Aunt Stanshy, soothingly, guessing that the little fellow had had some trouble that day, and had been sufficiently punished for any fault; "O, no! not so bad as that! Haven't you a pleasant home?"

"Yes--you--you are kind, I know, real kind."

"Well, don't think any thing more about it. Here is a big piece of mince pie."

He had not eaten more than one half of his lunch when he felt very much comforted, and the outside world brightened very perceptibly. To comfort him still further Aunt Stanshy allowed him to go after several boys and bring them to the barn, and it was in connection with this gathering that a new and important enterprise was suggested by one of the boys.

"It's something that will pay," said Sid.

Every body wanted to believe it and was willing to help it along. Soon Charlie came running from the barn into the kitchen.

"Aunt Stanshy, will you please lend me your scales?"

"My what?"

"Your scales for weighing, please."

"What on earth is it now?" exclaimed Aunt Stanshy. It was a--so the placard on the barn door stated--it was A FAIR!

Charlie did not have much to say about it, but through the remainder of the day often hummed, or smiled and chuckled complacently. When Aunt Stanshy had lighted the kerosene lamp that had a big lion's claw for a base and boasted a yellow shade covered with green shepherdesses and blue sheep, then Charlie sat down at the center-table and for an hour was exceedingly busy. About eight he held up an object to Aunt Stanshy.

"What is that, Aunt Stanshy?" he asked.

"A rag-man," she replied, promptly.

The artisan's face dropped and a pout came out. A smile though quickly smoothed down the pout, and he exclaimed, in triumph, "Santa Claus! He's a friend of our club! We thought we would be in season for Christmas, and people could buy their presents of us, and--and--will you buy?"

"I will--buy--that."

"You will? I'll give you a kiss for that," and Aunt Stanshy's young lover came up to her and in his delight gave her a kiss. Of a tuft of cotton Charlie had made a head. Another tuft furnished a body; two more supplied arms to work with, and two more supplied legs to stand on. Charlie put a three-cornered hat on Santa's head and tied together the parts of his body with a girdle of pink worsted. A card on Santa announced the fact that he could be bought for TWO CENTS.

Charlie trembled when Aunt Stanshy's eyes were directed toward the price lest she might not think it worth the money.

"What's that?"

"Two cents," replied Charlie, in fear.

"O! Well, I'll give that."

"You will?" said Charlie, in delight. "I'll give you another kiss."

"Charlie," said the blushing Constantia, "you'll make a fool of an old woman like me."

In the night the lips of the sleeping Charlie parted as he said, with a smile, "Two cents!" When this good news of the first sale was announced to the club in the morning, it threw the members into a feverish excitement.

"First-rate opening, fellers," declared the president, "even before we have opened any thing."

"We don't open," said the governor, "till school is out to-night."

"Let's open now," said Billy Grimes, in the excitement of his enthusiasm over the news;

"What a b.o.o.by!" said the governor, in plain language. "We have got no things here yet, and there are no buyers, and we must all clear out to school in ten minutes."

The governor's ma.s.sive logic crushed the foolish Billy at once.

"Let's open in good style," said the president, "and do it to-night."

By fifteen minutes after four, just as soon as a lot of scampering, shouting boys could get to the barn, bringing pockets stuffed with "articles," the fair was declared "opened."

"But how dark it is!" said the president.

So it was. The boys had forgotten how early the sun was setting in the November days.