This
is a little story about a young beggar girl, her name was Mary
Elizabeth and she lived at the same time as Queen Victoria. It was not
easy for children in Victorian Times and many children died of
starvation or terrible illnesses. Many children worked in the coal and
steel mines, especially in my country Wales and up in the North of
England. Charles Dickens wrote an awful lot about the poor families,
and a lot of his stories were based on real people that he knew about. Enjoy Mary Elizabeth, she was a very brave little girl.
dottido@hotmail.co.uk
Just found this little story, A Storm in the Pool. so beautiful, I am sure you will all enjoy it. Diddily Dee Dot,
Wow!, have you heard the "Sea Shanties" at the bottom of the page, brilliant.
THE STORM IN THE POOL
"Ah! it's a weary world," sighed Mrs Newt, shaking her head, and waggling her tail mournfully in a small puddle - all that was left of the home pond after the long summer drought. Even the stone she sat on was uncomfortably hot although it was late in the afternoon, and the long shadows from the chestnut tre were spreading over the baked mud of the dried up pond. It was just the time of day when Mrs Newt usually enjoyed a good gossip with Mrs Frog but the long hot day had made her peevish. Even the news that the Toad baby has pushed little Wog-wog, Mrs Frog's favourite child- off his pebble, "and he hardly more than a tadpole, poor mite!" only made Mrs Newt more depressed. "Ah! things aren't what they were in my young day," she moaned. "No discipline, that's what is wrong. Too much of this new fangled self expression. What we are all coming to, I don't know." And she slid down into the water to slap all the little Newts, just incase they needed it. This made her feel much more cheerful, so she p[opped up again quite hopefully to hear the latest scandal about the young Croaker, the gay young bachelor of the pond, and "no better than he should be!" It was such a spicy tale, "so very shocking," that Mrs Newt did not notice the first few heavy drops of rain from the thunder-cloud overhead. The long drought was over at last; the rain was falling now, not in big drops, but sheets. The pond was soon a whirlpool full to overflowing. Mrs Newt was washed off her stone, Mrs Frog also. The little Newts came to the surface struggling and calling for help as the flood bore them away to the other side of the pond. Their mother screamed to them to keep their heads although what they really needed was to keep their feet, for they were being washed steadily - in spite of their struggles towards the yawning black mouth of a large drain. Just as it seemed nothing could save them, even disciplined! young Croaker (who had been idling neat the side of the drain side of the pond) jumped into the reed canoe, and with a few strong strokes of his paddle he was at the drain's mouth before the frightened little Newts, and he skillfully blocked the entrance just in time. He soon had each of the infants safely hauled up into his boat. There they had to remain until the rain ceased, and the pond, quite a lake by this time, was calm enough to allow Croaker to paddle home against the curent. Mrs Newt was very thankful to have her dear children safely back again, although she smacked them all round for being the cause of her fright. Later, Mrs Newt said to Mrs Frog, " that it all went to show how necessary it was to keep one's head, for the children were not what they were in her young days, and they all needed discipline.
HAPPY PEOPLE MAKE A HAPPY HOME!
Castles, palaces, villas, houses, huts……….. there are so many types of buildings we live in and call them our home. I have been all over the world and seen all the types that people live in including boathouses floating on water. The strangest building that I saw belonged to a poor widowed mother. Her house was a patched up boot! All the conversion work to make the boot comfortable and homely had been done by a master builder, who was a close friend of the family. He had opened up thirteen windows and built a large balcony. The lady had seven children and though the place was cramped all of them lived happily and supported each other. It was the happiest home I had ever seen.
To accompany
Mary Elizabeth on her sad journey through life into the wonderful world
of food and drink that you could eat even if you weren't very, very
hungry. Seligor has searched around the wonderful Youtube and found
some beautiful Sea Shanties that she could hear being sung by the fishermen when they returned to the sea port. Mary knew the words to most of them maybe you will be able to join in with her.
Mary Elizabeth
Mary Elizabeth was a little girl with a long name.
She was poor, she was sick, she was ragged, she was cold, she was hungry, she was frightened.
She had no home, she had no mother, she had no father.
She had no supper, she had no dinner, she had had no breakfast.
She had no place to go, and nobody to care whether she went or not.
In
fact, Mary Elizabeth had not much of anything but a short peach calico
dress, a little red cotton and wool shawl, and her long name. Besides
this, she had a pair of red wellies, too large for her. They flopped on
the pavement as she walked.
On the
night of which I speak she begged very hard. It is very wrong to beg,
we all know that. It is very wrong to give to beggars, we all know this
too: we have been told so a great many times. Still, if I had been as
hungry as Mary Elizabeth, I presume I would have begged too.
So now
she was peeping into people's faces, timidly looking away from them;
hesitating, heart-sick - for a very little girl can be heart-sick -
colder, she thought, every inute, and hungrier each hour than she was
the hour before.
The
child turned into a short, bright, showy street, where stood a great
big hotel. Precisely how she got in nobody knows. Over the smooth,
slippery marble floor, the child crept on. She came to the office door,
and stood still. She looked around her with wide eyes. She had never
seen a place like that. Lights flashed over it, many and bright.
Gentlemen sat in it smoking and reading. They were all warm. Not one of
them looked as if he had no dinner, and no breakfast, and no supper.
There
was a little noise, a very little one, strange to the warm, bright,
well-ordered room. It was the sound of an old wellie, much to large,
flopping on the marble floor. Several gentlemen glanced at their own
well shod and well brushed feet, then up and around the room.
Mary
Elizabeth stood in the middle of it, in her pink calico dress and red
plaid-shawl. The shawl was tied over her head and about her neck with a
ragged tippet. She looked very funny, like the wooden
women in the Noah's ark.
She began to shuffle about the room, holding out one purple little hand.
One or
two of the gentlemen laughed; some frowned; more did nothing at all;
most did not notice, or did not seem to notice the child. One said, - "What's the matter here?"
Mary
Elizabeth flopped on. She went from one to another, less timidly; a
kind of desperation had taken possession of her. The odours from the
dining room came in of strong hot coffee and strange roast meats. It
seemed to her she was so hungry that if she could not get a supper she
should jump up and run.
She held out her hand, but only said, "I'm hungry!"
A
gentleman called her. He was the gentleman who had asked, "What's the
matter here?" He called her in behind his newspaper, which was big
enough to hide three of Mary Elizabeth, and when he saw that nobody was
looking , he gave her a threepenny piece in a hurry, as if he had done
a sin, and quickly said,
"There, there child! go, now go!"
Then he began to read quite hard and fast, and to look severe, as one does who never gives anything to beggars.
But
nobody else gave anything to Mary Elizabeth. She shuffled from one to
another, hopelessly. Every gentleman shook his head. One called for a
waiter to put her out. This frightened her, and she stood still. Over
by the window, in a lonely corner of the great room, a young man was
sitting apart from the others. Mary Elizabeth had seen the young man
when she first came in, but he had not seen her. He had not seen
anything or anybody. He sat with his elbows on the table, and his face
buried in his arms. He was a well dressed young man, with brown,
curling hair. Mary Elizabeth wondered why he looked so miserable, and
why he sat alone. She thought, perhaps, if he were not so happy as the
other gentlemen, he would be more sorry for cold and hungry girls. She
hesitated, then flopped along, and directly up to him. One or two gentlemen laid down their papers, and watched this; they smiled and nodded to each other. The child did not see them, to wonder why. She went up, and put her hand upon the young man's arm. He started. The brown, curly head lifted itself from the shelter of his arms; a young face looked sharply at the beggar girl - a beautiful young face it might have been. It was haggard now, and looked dreadful to look at. He roughly said,- "What do you want?" "I'm hungry," said Mary Elizabeth. "I can't help that. Go away." "I haven't had anything to eat for a whole day - a whole day!" said the child. Her lip quivered, but she spoke distinctly - her voice sounded through the room. One gentleman after another laid down his paper or his pipe. Several were watching this little scene. "Go away!" repeated the young man irritably. "Don't bother me I haven't had anything to eat for three days!" His face went down in his arms again. Mary Elizabeth stood staring at the brown, curling hair. She stood perfectly still for some moments. She evidently was greatly puzzled. She walked away a little distance, then stopped, and thought it over. And now paper after paper and pipe after cigar went down. Every gentleman in the room began to look on. The young man was not stiller than the rest. The little figure in peach calico, and the red shawl, and big wellies stood for a moment silent among them all. The waiter came to take her out, but the gentlemen motioned him away. Mary Elizabeth turned her money over and over slowly in her purple hand. The tears came. The smell of the dinner from the dining room grew savoury and strong. The child put the piece of money to her lips, as if she could have eaten it; then turned, and, without further hesitation, went back. She touched the young man - on the bright hair this time - with her trembling little hand. The room was so still now that what she said rang out into the corridor where the waiters stood, with the clerk behind looking over the desk to see. "I'm sorry you are so hungry. If you haven't had anything for three days you must be hungrier than me. I've got a silver piece. A gentleman gave it to me. I wish you would take it. I've only gone one day. You can get some supper with it, and maybe I can get some, somewheres. I wish you'd please to take it." Mary Elizabeth stood quite still, holding out her silver piece. She did not understand the sound and stir that went all over the bright room. She did not see that some of the gentlemen coughed, and wiped their spectacles. She did not know why the brown curls before her came up with such a start, nor why the young man's wasted face flushed red and hot with noble shame. She did not in the least understand why he flung the money upon the table, and snatching her in his arms held her fast, and placed his face on her plaid shawl and sobbed. Nor did she know what could be the reason that nobody seemed amused to see this gentleman cry; but that the gentleman who had given her the money came up, and some more came up, and they gathered round, and she in the midst of them; and they spoke kindly, and the young man stood up, still clinging to her, and said aloud,- "She's shamed me before you all, and she's shamed me to myself! I'll learn a lesson from this beggar, so help me, God!" So then he took the child upon his knee, and the gentlemen came up to listen, and the young man asked her what was her name. "Mary Elizabeth, sir" "Where do you live, Mary Elizabeth?" "Nowhere, Sir." "Where do you sleep then?" "In Mrs O'Flynn's shed, sir. It's too cold for the cows. She's so kind, she lets me stay." "Whom do you stay with?" "Nobody, sir." "Where is your mother?" "Dead." "And your father?" "He is dead also , sir. He died in prison." "So there is no one?" "No, sir." "I had a brother once, but he died too." Mary Elizabeth continued - "I do want my supper," she added after a pause, speaking in a whisper, as if to herself. "Wait, then." said the young man; "I'll see if I can't beg enough to get you your supper." And truely the young man put the threepenny bit into his hat to begin with. Then he took out his purse, and put in something that made less noise than the silver, and something more, and more and more. Then he passed around the great room, walking still unsteadily, and all the gentlemen put something into the young man's hat. So when he came back to the table he emptied the hat and counted the money, and truly it was eight pounds. "Eight pounds!" Mary Elizabeth looked frightened. "It's yours," said the young man. "Now, come to supper. But see! this gentleman who gave you the silver piece shall take care of the money for you. You can trust him. He's got a wife, too But we'll come to supper now" "Yes, yes," said the gentleman coming up. "My wife knows all about every orphan in this city, I believe. She will know what ought to be done with you, she will take care of you." "But I must go back and thank Mrs O'Flynn for the shed." "Oh yes, yes; we'll fix all that." said the gentleman. "A little girl with eight pounds needn't sleep in a cow shed anymore. Now do you want your supper?" "Why, yes, yes I do." said Mary Elizabeth. So the young man took her by the hand, and the gentleman took her by the other hand and one or two more gentlemen followed, and they all went out into the dining room, and put Mary Elizabeth in a chair at a clean white table and asked her what she wanted for her supper. Mary Elizabeth said that a little dry toast and a cup of milk would do nicely. So all the gentlemen laughed. And she wondered why. And the young man with the brown curls laughed too, and began to look quite happy. But he ordered chicken, and sauce, and mashed potatoes, and rolls, and butter, and an ice cream and a cup of tea, and nuts and raisins, and cake, and custard, and apples, and grapes. And Mary Elizabeth sat in her peach dress and red shawl and ate the whole lot; and why it didn't make her very ill, nobody knows, but it didn't. In fact she wasn't even sick and she went on work in the great hotel, fell in love with one of the porters and later when they were older, they got married and lived happily ever after.
To accompany Mary Elizabeth on her sad journey through life into the wonderful world of food and drink that you could eat even if you weren't very, very hungry. Seligor has searched around the wonderful You tube and found some beautiful Sea Shanties, My mum (Seligor) used to teach me these songs when I was a little girl. Her elder sisters even taught me how to do the Hornpipe.
Enjoy the songs Seligor and Mary Elizabeth have chosen for you and say thanks to the people who put the video's together, I wish I could do them for myself... maybe one day eh! Take care, Diddily Dee Dot. xxx
These are a few of the songs for you to watch and listen too. among the treasures of the deep are: Santy Anna. Haul Away for Rosie. Go to Sea Once More.
Muppet Sea Chanty! The Pigs Calypso. Horizon Tides. Magic Dance.
Enjoy Mary Elizabeth, she was a very brave little girl.
don't know." And she slid down into the water to slap all the little Newts, just incase they needed it. This made her feel much more cheerful, so she p[opped up again quite hopefully to hear the latest scandal about the young Croaker, the gay young bachelor of the pond, and "no better than he should be!"
The little Newts came to the surface struggling and calling for help as the flood bore them away to the other side of the pond. Their mother screamed to them to keep their heads although what they really needed was to keep their feet, for they were being washed steadily - in spite of their struggles towards the yawning black mouth of a large drain.
hotel. Precisely how she got in nobody knows. Over the smooth,
slippery marble floor, the child crept on. She came to the office door,
and stood still. She looked around her with wide eyes. She had never
seen a place like that. Lights flashed over it, many and bright.
Gentlemen sat in it smoking and reading. They were all warm. Not one of
them looked as if he had no dinner, and no breakfast, and no supper.
Over
by the window, in a lonely corner of the great room, a young man was
sitting apart from the others. Mary Elizabeth had seen the young man
when she first came in, but he had not seen her. He had not seen
anything or anybody. He sat with his elbows on the table, and his face
buried in his arms. He was a well dressed young man, with brown,
curling hair. Mary Elizabeth wondered why he looked so miserable, and
why he sat alone. She thought, perhaps, if he were not so happy as the
other gentlemen, he would be more sorry for cold and hungry girls. She
hesitated, then flopped along, and directly up to him.
young face looked sharply at the beggar girl - a beautiful young face it might have been. It was haggard now, and looked dreadful to look at.
did not know why the brown curls before her came up with such a start, nor why the young man's wasted face flushed red and hot with noble shame.
"He is dead also , sir. He died in prison."
something into the young man's hat.
"Why, yes, yes I do." said Mary Elizabeth.
Santy Anna. 
The Pigs Calypso.