Anna Bartlett Warner - Karl Krinken, His Christmas Stocking

“The old gentleman was asleep in his chair now, and a pretty-looking lady sat by, reading; while the little girl was playing with her doll on the rug. She jumped up and came to the table, and began to count the change.

“‘Two-and-sixpence, mamma—see, here’s a shilling and two sixpences and a fivepence and a red cent,—mamma, may I have this cent?’

“‘It isn’t mine, Nanny—your grandfather gave James the money.’

“‘Well, but you can pay him again,’ said the child; ‘and besides, he’d let me have it, I know.’

“‘What will you do with it, Nanny?’

“‘Don’t you know, mamma, you said you thought you would give me one cent a month to spend?’

“‘To do what you liked with,’ said her mother. ‘Yes, I remember. But what will you do with this one?’

“‘O I don’t know, mamma—I’ll see if grandpa will let me have it.’

“‘Let you have what?’ said the old gentleman, waking up.

“‘This cent, grandpa.’

“‘To be sure you may have it! Of course!—and fifty more.’

“‘No, she must have but one,’ said the lady, with a smile. ‘I am going to give her an allowance of one cent a-month.’

“‘Fiddle-de-dee!’ said the old gentleman. ‘What can she do with that, I should like to know?—one red cent!—Absurd!’

“‘Why she can do just the fiftieth part of what she could with half-a-dollar,’ said the lady, ‘and that will be money matters enough for such a little head. So you may take the cent, Nanny, and spend it as you like,—only I shall want to be told about it afterwards.’

“Nanny thanked her mother, and holding me fast in one hand she sat down on the rug again by her doll. The old gentleman seemed very much amused.

“‘What will you do with it, Nanny?’ he said, bending down to her.—‘Buy candy?’

“Nanny smiled and shook her head.

“‘No, I guess not, grandpa—I don’t know—I’ll see. Maybe I’ll buy beads.’

“At which the old gentleman leaned back in his chair and laughed very heartily.

“From that time, whenever little Nanny went to walk I went too; and she really seemed to be quite fond of me, for though she often stopped before the candy stores or the toy shops, and once or twice went in to look at the beads, yet she always carried me home again.

“‘Mamma, I don’t know how to spend my red cent,’ she said one day.

“‘Are you tired of taking care of it, Nanny?’

“‘No mamma, but I want to spend it.’

“‘Why?’

“‘Why mamma—I don’t know—money’s meant to spend, isn’t it?’

“‘Yes, it is meant to spend—not to throw away.’

“‘O no,’ said Nanny,—‘I wouldn’t throw away my red cent for anything. It’s a very pretty red cent.’

“‘How many ways are there of throwing away money?’ said her mother.

“‘O mamma—a great many! I couldn’t begin to count. You know I might throw it out of the window, mamma, or drop it in the street—or somebody might steal it,—no, then it would only be lost.’

“‘Or you might shut it up in your box and never spend it.’

“‘Why mamma!’ said Nanny opening her eyes very wide, ‘would it be thrown away then?’

“‘Certainly—you might just as well have none. It would do neither you nor any one else any good.’

“‘But I should have it to look at.’

“‘But that is not what money was made for. Your cent would be more really lost than if you threw it out of the window, for then some poor child might pick it up.’

“‘How surprised she would be!’ said Nanny with a very bright face. ‘Mamma, I think I should like to spend my money so. I could stand behind the window-curtain and watch.’

“Her mother smiled.

“‘Why, mamma? do you think there wouldn’t any poor child come along?’

“‘I should like to see that day, dear Nanny. But your cent might fall into the grass in the courtyard, or into the mud, or a horse might tread it down among the paving-stones; and then no one would be the better for it.’

“‘But it’s only one cent, mamma,’ said Nanny,—‘it don’t matter so much, after all.’

“‘Come here Nanny,’ said her mother, and the child came and stood at her side. The lady opened her purse and took out a little gold dollar.

“‘What is this made of?’ said she.

“‘Why of gold, mamma.’

“‘Think again.’

“So Nanny thought and couldn’t think—and laid her head against her mother, and played with the little gold dollar. Then she laid it upon me to see how much smaller it was, and how much brighter. Then she cried out,—

“‘O I know now, mamma! it’s made of a hundred cents.’

“‘Then if every day you lose ‘only a cent,’ in one year you would have lost more than three dollars and a-half. That might do a great deal of good in the world.’

“‘How funny that is!’ said Nanny. ‘Well I’ll try and not lose my cent, mamma.’

“‘There is another reason for not losing it,’ said her mother. ‘In one sense it would make little difference whether or not I threw this little gold dollar into the fire—you see there are plenty more in my purse. But Nanny they do not belong to me.’ And taking up a Bible she read these words,—

“‘ The silver and gold are the Lord’s.’

“‘Do you think, Nanny, that it pleases him to have us waste or spend foolishly what he has given us to do good with?’

“‘No mamma. I won’t get my beads then,’ said Nanny with a little sigh.

“‘That would not be waste,’ said her mother kissing her. ‘It is right to spend some of our money for harmless pleasure, and we will go and buy the beads this very afternoon.’

“So after dinner they set forth.

“It was a very cold day, but Nanny and her mother were well wrapped up, so they did not feel it much. Nanny’s fur tippet kept all the cold wind out of her neck, and her little muff kept one hand warm while the other was given to her mamma. When that got cold Nanny changed about, and put it in the muff and the other out. As for me I was in the muff all the time; and I was just wondering to myself what kind of a person the bead-woman would prove to be, when I heard Nanny say,—

“‘Mamma! did you see that little girl on those brown steps? She had no tippet, mamma, and not even a shawl, and her feet were all tucked up in her petticoat; and–’ and Nanny’s voice faltered—‘I think she was crying. I didn’t look at her much, for it made me feel bad, but I thought so.’

“‘Mamma! did you see that little girl on those brown steps?’”—P. 53.

“‘Yes love,’ said her mother, ‘I saw her. How good God has been to me, that it is not my little daughter who is sitting there.’

“‘O mamma!’

“Nanny walked on in silence for about half a block—then she spoke again.

“‘Mamma—I’m afraid a great many poor children want things more than I want my beads.’

“‘I’m afraid they do, Nanny.’

“‘Mamma, will you please go back with me and let me give that little girl my red cent? wouldn’t she be pleased, mamma? would she know how to spend it?’

“‘Suppose you spend it for her, Nanny. People that are cold are often hungry too—shall we go to the baker’s and buy her something to eat?’

“‘O yes!’ said Nanny. ‘Will you buy it, mamma, or shall I?’

“‘You, darling.’

“And when they reached the shop Nanny looked round once more at her mother, and opening the shop-door with a very pleased and excited little face she marched up to the counter.