Georgie's Present - Tales of Newfoundland
Brightwell, Miss, 1811-1875
English
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GEORGIE'S PRESENT; OR TALES OF NEWFOUNDLAND.
BY MISS BRIGHTWELL
_Author of "Annals of Industry and Genius," etc. etc._ [Blank Page]
Contents.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
GEORGIE'S PRESENT;
OR,
TALES OF NEWFOUNDLAND.
CHAPTER I.
It was a beautiful May-day morning when George Green rose at an early
hour; for it was his birthday, and he had not been able to sleep so long
as usual, for counting of the joyful anniversary.
"Ten years old, are you indeed, my boy?" said his father, who found
Master George eagerly awaiting him in the breakfast parlour. "Yes, papa;
and I am to have a whole holiday, and mamma has promised to take me to
spend the afternoon at Aunt Baker's, and--but I must not tell you that
now, for it is a secret!"
[Illustration]
The afternoon visit was evidently the great treat in George's esteem;
and pleased indeed did he look, as he started with his mother for the
Parsonage-house in which his aunt lived. Mrs. Baker was the daughter
of Mr. Ward, an excellent clergyman, who had for several years been a
missionary in Newfoundland. After his death, his widow and daughter
returned to England, and found a home in the country village where some
of their family lived, and where Maria Ward soon married the clergyman
of the parish, her widowed mother consenting to become one of her
household.
Mrs. Ward was a charming old lady, lively and intelligent, and full of
goodness. Her heart seemed always overflowing with love, and though no
longer able to labour in the missionary field as she had done in the
days of her early womanhood, she was at heart a missionary still,
regarding with delight the progress of that great and glorious
cause--the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom upon earth.
On the afternoon of the fair May-day, when little George and his mother
paid their visit to the Parsonage, Mrs. Ward was sitting in her best bib
and tucker, prepared to do honour to the occasion. Close by her side,
upon the hearth, lay a splendid Newfoundland dog, which every now and
then looked up at her with affectionate eyes that seemed to say, "How
much I love you."
"Ah, Boxa!" said the old lady, fondly caressing the head of the animal,
"I don't know what you'll say to me I have actually given away one of
your pups: at all events, I have promised it, which is the same thing."
At that moment Master George popped his merry face in at the open
window, and greeted Mrs. Ward with a shout of joyous laughter. "Dear
Granny, you didn't know you were talking aloud; and how indeed were you
to guess that I was so close at hand to overhear you? Ah! how glad I am
that you mean really to let me have the beautiful pup. I have chosen a
name for it already: it shall be called Newfy, because its mother came
from Newfoundland."
"Its grandmother you should say, my dear," replied Mrs. Ward; "Boxa's
mother came over with me from Newfoundland, and a wonderful animal she
was for cleverness and beauty; but after all, she could not compare with
dear old Box, her sire. He was a marvel of sagacity, and did feats which
I really believe have never been surpassed."
While the old lady was speaking, her grandson had jumped in at the
window, and was standing beside her, eagerly listening.
"You know, dear grandmamma," he said, "this is my birthday, and I have
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