With a Gladsome Mind: Ten Short Stories

By Margaret S. Haycraft

Ten short stories from White Tree Publishing’s most popular Christian author from the past, Margaret S. Haycraft. Some are cosy romances, and others less cosy involving forgiveness and acceptance of loss. They are all single chapters, apart from the first, which is six short chapters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: White Tree Publishing
• Release date: May 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781912529445

Book preview

About the book

Ten short stories from White Tree Publishing’s most popular Christian author from the past, Margaret S. Haycraft. Some are cosy romances, and others less cosy involving forgiveness and acceptance of loss. They are all single chapters, apart from the first, which is six short chapters.

With a Gladsome Mind

Ten Short Stories by

Margaret S. Haycraft

1855-1936

White Tree Publishing Edition

Original book first published 1895

This edition ©White Tree Publishing 2019

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-44-5

Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

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With a Gladsome Mind is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this abridged edition.

Author Biography

Margaret Scott Haycraft was born Margaret Scott MacRitchie at Newport Pagnell, England in 1855. She married William Parnell Haycraft in 1883 and wrote mostly under her married name. In 1891 she was living in Brighton, on the south coast of England, and died in Bournemouth, also on the south coast, in 1936. She also wrote under her maiden name of Margaret MacRitchie. Margaret Haycraft is by far our most popular author of fiction.

Margaret was a contemporary of the much better-known Christian writer Mrs. O. F. Walton. Both ladies wrote Christian stories for children that were very much for the time in which they lived, with little children often preparing for an early death. Mrs. Walton wrote three romances for adults (with no suffering children, and now published by White Tree in abridged versions). Margaret Haycraft concentrated initially on books for children. However, she also wrote romances for older readers. Unusually for Victorian writers, the majority of Margaret Haycraft’s stories are told in the present tense, but not this one, except in the final pages.

Both Mrs. Walton’s and Margaret Haycraft’s books for all ages can be over-sentimental, referring throughout, for example, to a mother as the dear, sweet mother, and a child as the darling little child. In our abridged editions overindulgent descriptions of people have been shortened to make a more robust story, but the characters and storyline are always unchanged.

A problem of Victorian writers is the tendency to insert intrusive comments concerning what is going to happen later in the story. Today we call them spoilers. They are usually along the lines of: Little did he/she know that.... I have removed these when appropriate.

£1 at the time of this story may not sound much, but in income value it is worth approximately £120 pounds today (about US$150). I mention this in case sums of money in this book sound insignificant!

This story was sold in a combined volume of two novelettes by Margaret Haycraft, the other being the title of the volume, The Lady of the Chine. This novelette will be published by White Tree Publishing later in 2018. Unlike The Lady of the Chine, Iona seems to have been either rushed to meet a deadline, or poorly edited in places by the original publisher. For example, names appear later as though they have been in the story all along. These and other minor problems have hopefully been addressed in this White Tree Publishing Edition, without changing the plot or characters in any way.

Chris Wright

Editor

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

There are 10 short stories in this book. In the second part are some advertisements for our other books, so the stories may end earlier than expected! The last story is marked as such. We aim to make our eBooks free or for a nominal cost, and cannot invest in other forms of advertising. However, word of mouth by satisfied readers will help get our books more widely known. When the story ends, please take a look at what we publish: Christian fiction, Christian non-fiction, and books for younger readers.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Cover

About the Book

Author Biography

Note

1. With a Gladsome Mind

2. Strawberries and Cream

3. A Snowdrop Valentine

4. The Useful Trouble of the Rain

5. Among the Lilies

6. Easter Violets

7. Seaweed ‒ A Poem

8. When the Reapers Reaped

9. White Lilac

10. That Song of Old

About White Tree Publishing

More Books from White Tree Publishing

Christian non-fiction

Christian Fiction

Books for Younger Readers

1. WITH A GLADSOME MIND

Chapter 1

Winifred

"The mist and the rain, the mist and the rain,

The wind and the wet, the wind and the wet ‒

The grass will grow when I am gone,

And the west wind‒‒"

THAT is not a very cheerful quotation, my dear.

Uncle, asked Winifred Crewe, turning round from the window from where she had been gazing at the sharp downflow of the April rain, "uncle, do we only live to be cheerful? This stormy weather would surely remind us of life’s plenitude of tears, for there is no knowing how soon the sunniest existence may be overcast.

"‘Into each life some rain must fall;

Some days must be dark and dreary.’"

Were you at the club last evening, Winnie? asked her aunt, gazing at her rather anxiously. Johnnie, Johnnie, take Noah and his wife out of your sister’s porridge.

"We do not call it a club, Aunt Nellie, said Winifred, with emphasis. I certainly attended the weekly meeting of the Eureka Association. Miss Vanguard opened the discussion with a paper on ‘Yearnings’. It made a deep impression, and many were moved to tears."

What part did you take in the meeting, my dear? asked good-natured Dr. Crewe, as though conscious that his niece would assuredly be found among the speakers. You are Vice-President, are you not?

Yes, uncle, and it fell to me to second Miss Vanguard’s resolution with a few words on ‘The Cloudland of Ordinary Human Existence.’ The Association unanimously adopted our premises, viz., that the present female position is entirely unsatisfactory, opposed to intellectual progress, and restrained by slavish chains. Also, that society is under a delusion as to woman’s rightful groove and inner aspirations.

Jimmie, interrupted Mrs. Crewe, hastily, "do not bring toys to the breakfast table; and take that paper bag off the cat’s head at once. I beg your pardon, Winnie dear, what were we speaking about? Oh, yes, I wanted to ask you how you would like your birthday party arranged. Last year, you know, you were studying astronomy, and we took the children over the Altus Observatory, and Mat was frightened at a design of Capricornus on the ceiling of the front hall, and had to be taken home. And that was how Johnnie was left to himself, and got lost in an upstairs room with a skylight. I remember he had bad dreams that night, poor child. He thought he was a star, and the children in the Infant Class at our Sunday school were singing, ‘Twinkle, twinkle,’ round him. I am sure that was enough to depress the brightest constellation, poor little thing.

Then the year before last, Winnie ‒ that was about the time you won the ladies’ athletic prize, you know ‒ we made the dining room into a gymnasium, and fitted it up for a Hygienic Fete. And poor Jane Raven ‒ she was under nurse then ‒ caught her head in the hanging strap of the ‘jumper,’ and your uncle gave her a letter to the accident ward of the hospital. Well, dear, this is your twenty-first birthday, so we must make it as enjoyable as possible for you.

It would be a becoming compliment, said Winifred, for me to invite the members of the Eureka Association to a congress at our house. It is rumoured, though I can scarcely believe it, that Mrs. Gosse objects to sparing her front parlour for that purpose once a week, so the offer of our room will be timely. We might offer the members afterwards some slight refreshment. Perhaps we could induce Mr. Gosse to be present, and read us something original, or offer a few remarks on that occasion.

By the way, said her uncle, suddenly, did I not promise to run down to Redgrove next Tuesday, Nellie? Pity I should have to miss Winifred’s party.

"You said Monday or Tuesday, dear," replied his wife.

Ah, then I can make it Tuesday, murmured the doctor. Now then, Jim, jump up and see if the chaise is waiting.

The elder boys went away with their father, who set them down at the Grammar school ere proceeding on his rounds. Winifred returned to the window to lament the lack of any object or mission worth living for, whilst cook besought Mrs. Crewe’s assistance in the matter of that there kitchen chimney smoking again, and the little ones came to grief in a confused heap under the table.

Dear, dear, do you call this keeping quiet? exclaimed little Mrs. Crewe, hurrying back from an inspection of the flues, which it had never occurred to cook to clean. Archie, tell nurse the little ones can go out as soon as the rain ceases; and get out the blocks and alphabet bricks. There, my wee Ethel, don’t cry. Let mother kiss the poor little leg she knocked.

The children crowded round Mrs. Crewe till nurse appeared. It never occurred to them to claim Cousin Winnie’s attention or assistance. As Jimmie and Guy expressed it, She’s downright clever for a girl, but she can’t put up with being bothered.

Well, dear, said Mrs. Crewe, kneeling down to mend the cord of an armchair when the children had disappeared, will you let me know the probable number of your guests, that I may provide accordingly? Of course Tom Tudor will be here. Your uncle asked him yesterday. The Tudors are such old friends that we can scarcely leave them out on such an occasion.

Personally, said Winnie, with dignity, I should prefer to drop the connection; for though we have been on intimate terms with the family, it has become evident to me that they are very far from intellectual.

Winnie dear, said Mrs. Crewe, with some hesitation, everyone is not equally gifted. But I am sure the Tudors are kind Christian people, and the sick and suffering would esteem far more a visit from Edith Tudor than from Miss Vanguard herself.

It takes a cultivated taste to appreciate Miss Vanguard, said Winifred shortly. While we are on this subject, aunt, I may as well tell you at once that my eyes have been opened in time to the true destiny of cultured womankind. I am aware that at one time I did not forbid the attentions of Mr. Tudor, but I have now positively informed him of my intention to remain single, and devote time, thoughts and affection to the progress of the female public.

That accounts, then, said Mrs. Crewe, for his visits having nearly ceased. I am very sorry, Winnie; but I should not like you to feel uncomfortable, especially on your birthday. So shall we ask the Tudors to postpone their visit?

Not on my account, was the reply. I shall be unaffected by their presence, and the conversation of my friends may prove of lasting help to any latent mental aspirations that they may possess, especially if I can persuade Mr. Gosse to join us. But unfortunately he is in universal request amongst the advocates of social advancement.

Has Mr. Gosse any situation ‒ any profession, dear? asked the busy woman, opening the workbasket so full of juvenile mending.

He is a student, aunt. A student of human nature and of human needs. His vocation is to satisfy the mortal longings that this wilderness world has too long neglected.

But meanwhile, dear, hesitated Mrs. Crewe, how are his wife and children to be supported?

I cannot say, answered Winnie, indifferently. "Mrs. Gosse is a very inferior woman ‒ a person of no mind at all. Our association pays Mr. Gosse for his public lectures, but his personal expenses must be high, as his soul is too deeply enlarged to endure existence save amid high-art surroundings. I only hope we shall secure a speech on Tuesday. I shall make a point of reporting it for the local paper. I have sent the editor several of Mr. Gosse’s speeches, but he has hitherto, much to his regret, been unable to find room for them. Of course, they appear at length in The Minerva, the organ of our Association."

Well, I must see how the children are getting on, said Mrs. Crewe, as sounds of a fall and weeping reached them from upstairs.

If you are going upstairs, aunt, please send Ethel down with my hat and waterproof. I am going out to see old Mrs. Jarvis in the Almshouse.

Not in this strangely misty weather, Winnie! It seems deepening to an almost autumnal fog. Really, I do not know what the seasons are coming to. Do stay indoors, to please me.

"I would certainly gratify your wishes, aunt, but the voice of duty calls me out. Our Association takes special care of the minds of the poor. It has been traditional to care only for their bodies, but we undertake the higher parts of their nature. We do not despair of the time when their intellects will be to them as a continual feast. The mist seems clearing now, and Miss Vanguard has entrusted me with two new tracts for Mrs. Jarvis. Emerson for Beginners and The Theory of Mental Association."

Well, dear, you must wrap yourself up; and if you really must visit Mrs. Jarvis today, will you take her the scrapbook which Ethel has arranged for her? The poor old lady is so fond of pictures, and she will lend them to those around her. And can you take a little basket with tea and sugar? We could spare some of the cornflour pudding from supper last night.

I will take the basket, aunt; but I trust Mrs. Jarvis has learnt to think more highly of mental nourishment than of material food. She has now had several volumes chosen by our Association, and is by this time far beyond the scrapbook. I wish you and uncle would let me take Ethel’s education in hand. She would soon regard these highly coloured recreative pictures with distaste, and live only for the future which lies before her ‒ if she will but grasp it ‒ as the Wilberforce of her sex.

Chapter 2

In the Mist

Away tripped grey-eyed Winifred Crewe, the doctor’s somewhat over-indulged orphan niece, who had been a wilful child of ten when the good man took unto himself a wife. The weather was miserably depressing, and the roads were uncomfortably muddy, but Winifred passed on, exalted in spirit by the firmness of her benevolent intentions. She would not have minded an accidental meeting with her heroine, Miss Vanguard, or any other of the Association lights.

What matter, she inwardly exclaimed, though all around be dim and dismal? The path of duty is illumined by the soul. And thus most safely guided from within, I pursue my way amid external darkness which is certainly settling into a fog.

At this point, a shouted warning from the conductor of a dustcart warned Winifred