Frances Broderip - Tales of the Toys, Told by Themselves

"I have now, I think, satisfied even my friend the Humming-top, and may proceed to tell you that these several portions of my frame, coming as they did from various countries, and owing their colour and texture to different ways of preparing them, were all stored together in a very large wholesale warehouse, in a narrow, gloomy lane in the heart of London. These were all sold out again to travel once more, some to the glove-making counties; others to great shoe factories; some to makers of dressing cases and purses; others to grocers in town or country for polishing plate and glass. With all this general separation, there were a good many stray pieces, some torn off by accident, others used for pattern samples, which were always carefully collected, down to the smallest bits, and put into an old box by the boy who swept the warehouse. His master allowed him to collect them each week and carry them home to his mother, a poor, industrious widow, who earned a scanty living for her children and herself by making toys for a shop in the suburbs.

"The eldest son, Sam, was shop-boy at this great leather warehouse; and feeling the importance of his position as the man of the family, and the only one receiving regular wages, and being in a place, he was not a little proud. He drew himself up on tip-toe, for he was, unluckily, rather short for his age, and spoke in the deepest tones he could make his naturally squeaky voice take, which sounded like the chirp of the cuckoo, when "in leafy June, he is out of tune!" But Sam was a good boy, and loved his mother and little sisters dearly, and would have bristled, like an angry cock robin, in the smallest but fiercest displeasure, if any one had tried to invade the parent nest.

"It was Saturday night, and Sam was very tired, for he was at everyone's call, being the youngest and smallest there; and though he was pert and perky, he was good-natured and willing, so his poor thin legs had been well trotted about. But tired as he was, he gave a careful look round for any stray bits, and then tucked his little old box under his arm, and walked home. He stopped at the door of a very dingy house, up a dark, dirty court, and opening it, mounted the close, steep staircase. After climbing up two stories, he sat down to rest awhile, to get breath to mount the last one. At last he wearily picked up the box, and, step by step, painfully went up to the door of the back room. And this was his home , his only idea of comfort and rest after his long day's toil. But his mother was a good and tender woman, and though she had only this one small room to dwell in, where her three children and herself lived and slept, she tried her very best to keep it as wholesome and cheerful as she could, with the poor means she had.

"A pleasant place it seemed to poor little Sam as he went in, with the kettle singing merrily on the hob, and the summer sunset shining in over the tall chimney-pots, through a clean window, between two cracked pots of blooming mignonette. Many little children were, no doubt, going to bed then in country cottages, tired out with their long rambles in country lanes – dirty with dust and forbidden mud-pies – and hungry for the crust of very dry bread – but healthy from their day's long breathing of pure air. But Sam only exchanged the close city warehouse, with its disagreeable smell of leather, for that of a room in which his mother and sisters breathed most of the day the smoky air among the chimney tops. In he came, only too glad to rest, and thankful for the warm tea his mother had ready for him. And then he showed his treasure of pieces of leather, such a big bundle this time, that little Susan clapped her hands quite gaily; and his mother said that there was enough for a half score dozen of balls at least!

"The poor widow made leather balls to sell to a toy shop; her eldest girl, Jemima, always called Jemmie, made little toy bedsteads, for she had been lame from her birth. Little Susan, the youngest, helped as well as she could by making the little bolsters and mattresses for the dolls' bedsteads, which were to form the toys of luckier and younger children. She was a grave little morsel, with long thin, thin limbs, and hollow cheeks – but she would have been pretty, with her large soft blue eyes and long yellow hair, if she had been well fed and healthy.

"Their mother took the box of leather scraps from Sam, and having made him comfortable at his meagre tea, she began at once to arrange her work; for the last week she had quite used up all her scraps, and had been obliged to use her spare time in helping Jemmie with the bedsteads. So she picked out the colours, and laid her card patterns on them, and cut them with as little waste as possible, and as I was the first ball she finished that evening, I saw and heard all that ensued.

"'Are you very tired Sam,' she asked, 'you're late home to-night. However, to-morrow is blessed Sunday, and you can take your rest with all the other poor creatures God has made His holiday for.'

"'Oh yes, mother,' said Jemmie, her sallow face quite lighted up, 'and we can have another walk in the Park, you know. Only I wish I could walk better, it is such slow work hopping along.'

"'So it is, Jemmie,' replied her mother, sighing, 'but thank God, child, you don't keep your bed; that would break my heart. I hope it'll please Him to spare me that sorrow, and then I'll be contented if you can only crawl like a snail.'

"'I wish it was treat time,' said little Susan; 'oh, how we did enjoy it, mother! if only you had been there! Oh, they were such grand trees in the forest, mother, they seemed to reach up to the clouds; I'm sure the birds couldn't build their nests up there! Why they were three times higher nor these chimbley stacks!'

"'I liked the ride best,' said Jemmie; 'wasn't it nice to be carried along like that, and resting all the time; and teacher was so kind. She lent me her thick shawl to sit on; and how nice it was. What a lot of flowers we brought you, mother. And how nice and dry our acorns have kept.'

"'When I'm only a little bit older,' said Sam, 'and earn more money, we'll have such jaunts into the country; won't it be fun to climb a tree, and lie on the grass!'

"The mother sighed wearily; but she encouraged the children to gossip on cheerfully, for the work went twice as quick, while the memories were living over again the few, few days of fresh air and sunshine they had known. And the work must be done, for the sake of food and shelter, such as it was. As for clothes, they were not thought of; for they were darned, patched, and "tidied up," till they were all darn, and only replaced, when some kind friend gave a cast off garment. Jemmie made pretty little dolls' bedsteads, the frames of which, made of white wire, she bent into shape, and strengthened with slender strips of tin. Sam soldered them neatly together for her in his precious spare time, the wire and tin being sold to her cheap, cut ready into lengths, by a friendly tinman. Then Jemmie trimmed them up with white muslin worked round with gay coloured yarn. They were such pretty little toys that she found a tolerably ready sale for them.

"'What a sight of work you've got for me, Jemmie!' said Sam, as his mother cleared away the tea, and his sister got out the wires. 'A chap ought to have a lot of strength for such a nigger drivin' missus as you!'

"'Never mind, Sam,' said Jemmie, cheerfully; 'don't do no more nor you feels inclined for. But Mr. Dobbs had such a lot of bits for me this week, and as mother was slack of work, she turned to and made up all the curtains and valances, and I had only to do the wool work. So we've got a sight of 'em done, and then, if mother has time this week, she thought she'd take a few round and sell 'em.'

"'So she shall!' said Sam, setting vigorously to work, ' I don't mind, there's lots of work yet in this here feller, all along of your cup of tea, mother, and the holiday to-morrow.'