Daily Short Stories - Children's Stories

Pig Betty

Listen Ad Free https://www.solgoodmedia.com - Listen to hundreds of audiobooks, thousands of short stories, and ambient sounds all ad free!

Duration:: 21m
Broadcast on:: 19 Jul 2024
Audio Format:: mp3

an official message from Medicare. A new law is helping me save more money on prescription drug costs. Maybe you can save, too. With Medicare's Extra Help Program, my premium is zero and my out-of-pocket costs are low. Who should apply? Single people making less than $23,000 a year, or married couples who make less than $31,000 a year. Even if you don't think you qualify, it pays to find out. Go to ssa.gov/extrahelp Paid for by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services This summer, saddle up with the only sports book where you can bet on horse racing. FanDuel! Right now, new customers can get a no-swept first bet up to $500. Just download the app or go to fanduel.com/horses to score your no-swept bet up to $500. 21+ in present in Colorado. Offer valid on first real money wager of $5 or more. Verify an FD racing account required. Bonus issued a non-withdrawable racing site credit that expires seven days after issuance. Max refund $500. Restrictions apply. See terms at racing.fanduel.com. Gambling problem call 1-800-Gambler. I'm going to tell you a story that mother told us. We think mother stories far are the most interesting and nicest of any we hear or read. And we are trying to write them all down. So that our children, if ever any of us have any, may know them too. We mean to call them grandmother stories. One reason why they are nice is that nearly all of them are real. What is called "founded on fact"? By the time our children come to hear them, mother says her stories will all have grown dreadfully old-fashioned, but we tell her that we'll make them all the nicer. They will have a scent of long-agoons. Quite them. Something like the faint lavendry whiff that comes out of mother's old doll box, where she keeps a few of the toys and dolls close. She has never had the heart to part with. The little story or sketch mother says, "It isn't worth calling a story. I'm going to write down now." Is already a long ago one, or it isn't really one of mother's own stories. It was told by her mother. So if ever our book comes to exist, this one will have to have a chapter to itself, and be called "Great Grandmother's Story, Won't I?" I remember quite well what made mother tell it us. It was when we were staying in the country one year, and Frankie had been frightened. Coming through the village by meeting a parody, a boy who ran after us laughed at us in a queer silly way. I believe he meant to please us, but Frankie's fright made her angry, and she wanted Nurse to speak to him sharply until him to get away, but Nurse wouldn't. One should always be gentle to those so afflicted, she said. When we got home, we told mother about it, and Frankie asked her to speak to Nurse, adding, "It's very disagreeable to see people like that about. I think they should always be shut up, don't you, mother?" "Not always," mother replied. Of course, when they are at all dangerous likely to hurt themselves, or anyone else, it is necessary to shut them up, and if they can't be taught anything as some can be, it is the truest kindness to send them to an asylum, or it is wonderful what patience and skill can sometimes make of them. But I know about the boy in the village, he is perfectly harmless, even gentle and affectionate. He has been at a school for such as he and has learned to knit. That is the only thing they could succeed in teaching him. It was no use leaving him there longer, and he timed for whom was sadly, so as his relations are pretty well off, it was to help best send him back, and he is now quite content. I wish I had told you about him. When you meet him again, you must be sure to speak kindly. They say he never forgets if anyone does so. "Her boy," said Ted and I, but Frankie did not look quite convinced. "I think he should be shut up," she repeated in rather a low voice. Frankie used to be a very obstinate little girl, and I shunt speak to him kindly or in any way, mother did not answer, though she heard, I know she did, but in a minute or two she said, "Would you like to hear a story about an idiot that your grandmother told me?" It happened when she was a little girl. Of course we all said yes with eagerness, and this was the story. Pig Betty isn't a very pretty name for a story, or for a person is it, but Pig Betty was a real person, though I dare say none of you have the least idea what the word pig added to her own name meant, said mother. No, none of us had. We thought, perhaps, it was because this Betty was very lazy, or greedy or even dirty, but mother shook her head at all those guesses, and then she went on to explain. "Pig" in some parts of Scotland, she told us means a piece of coarse crockery. It is used mostly for jugs, though in a general way it means any sort of crockery. And long ago mother went on, I think I'll give up putting mother said or mother went on. I'd just tell it straight off as she did. Long ago when my mother was a little girl, she and her brothers and sisters used to spend some months of every year in a rather out-of-the-way part of Scotland. There was no real way, a new coach, and back came within at all easy reach. The nearest town was ten or twelve miles away, and even the village was two or three. Under good many things, ordinary, common things were supplied by peddlers. They walked long distances, often carrying their wears upon their backs. These peddlers came to be generally called by what they had to sell as a sort of nickname. You may think it was a very hard life, but there were a good many nice things about it. They were always sure of a welcome, where it was a pleasant excitement to the quiet life of the cottages and farmhouses, and even of the big houses about when one of these travelling merchants appeared. And they never needed to feel any anxiety about their board and lodging. They could always count upon a meal or two, and on a night's shelter. Very often they slept in the barn of the farmhouse, or even sometimes in the clean corner of the cow's bar. They were not very particular. Among these good people, there were both men and women, and perpig Betty was one of the latter. My mother and other children used always to ask, as one of their first questions when they arrived at. Grace deans, that was the name of their uncle's country house. On their yearly visit, if pig Betty had been there lately, or if she was expected to come. Since one or other was pretty sure to be the case. Old Betty's treasures. They had several reasons for their interest in the old woman. One was that they were very fond of blowing soup bowls, which they seldom got leave to do in time. And they always bought a new supply of white clay pipes. The first time pig Betty appeared. Another was that she had what children thought very wonderful treasures hidden among the course pots and dishes and jugs that she carried in a shapeless bundle on her bent old bag. And sometimes if she were in a very good humour, she would present one of the little people with a green parrot rejoicing in a whistle in its tail, or with a goggle-eyed dog. Reminding one of the creatures in Hans Anderson's tail of the three soldiers. And the third reason was perhaps the strongest, though the strangest of all. Part two. The third reason why the children were so interested in the old peddler woman was, I said, the strongest, though the strangest of all. She was an idiot. They were almost too young to understand what being an idiot really meant. But they could see for themselves that she was quite unlike other people. And her strangeness gave her a queer charm and attraction for them. Almost what is called fascination. When she was at Greystance, where she always stayed two or three days, they were never at a loss for amusement. For they did little else than run here and there to peep at her until over to each other. The odd way, she trotted about nodding and shaking her head and talking on to yourself as if she were holding long conversations. It did not do to let her see they were watching her. For it would have made her angry. Indeed, several times the children had been warned not to do so. And their nurse had been told to keep them out of the old woman's way. But as everybody knows, children are contrary creatures. And in the country, nurse could not keep as close a look out on them as in time. Then it was well known that pigberry was very gentle, even when she was angry. And she did have fits of temper sometimes. She had never been known to her anyone. And of course she was not quite without sense. She was able to manage her little trade well enough and to see that she was paid correctly for the pigs she sold. She was able to detail the difference between Sunday and other days. For on Sunday she would never travel and would often, if she were near a village, creep into the cirk and sit in the corner quite quietly. Perhaps idiot is hardly the right word to use about her. But there were a few old folk who said they had been told that she had not always been quite so strange in one thing. But that a great trouble or sorrow that had happened in her family had made her show. The truth was that no one knew her real story. She had wandered into our part of the country from a long way off 30 or 40 years ago. And as people had been kind to her there she had stayed. No one knew how old she was. Uncle James himself, an elderly man, said she had not changed the least all the years he had known her. Uncle James was one of the people she had a great affection for. She would stand still whenever he passed her with a kindly, well be a my woman and how are ye. Bobbing a kind of queer curtsy till he was out of sight. A murmuring blessing of the Laird. He never forgot her when she was at Gristons. Always giving orders that the poor body should be made comfortable and have all she wanted. One of his little kindnesses to her was the cause of a good deal of excitement to the children when they were with Uncle James. At that time, gentle people dined much earlier than they do now, especially in the country. At Gristons, four o'clock was the regular dinner hour. The children used always to be nicely dressed and sent down to dessert. And when Pig Betty was there, Uncle James never failed to pour out a glass of wine and say, "Now, he will take this to the old woman. Pig Betty knew it was coming, for she always managed to be in the kitchen at that time. And however busy the servants were, they never thought of turning her out. There was a good deal of superstitious awe felt about her in spite of her gentleness. And the children would look at each other, half-wishing, half-fearing, to be the cut-bearer. I will, Johnny, would say, and as soon as he spoke all the others followed. "Now let me hear you would cry, and then may as he and Lily joined him with their 'I will' or 'Do let me, Uncle James.' First come, first served, Uncle would reply. As he handed the well-filled glass to Johnny or may as he, or whichever had been the first. Then the procession of five would set off, walking slowly so as not to spell the wine, down the long stone passages leading to the kitchen and offices of the old house. And what usually happened was this, as they got to the kitchen door, Johnny supposing it, was he who was carrying the wine, would go more and more slowly. "I don't mind, after all, letting you give it me a say," or he would say, "No, thank you, Johnny." They would make me reply, and Lily, who was the most outspoken would confess, "I always think, I'd like to give it her, but I do get so frightened when I see her close to me, that I really turned." Which was, in truth, the feeling of all four. So it was pretty sure to end by number five coming to the front. Number five was Little Annette, the youngest. She was a sweet, curly-haired maiden, too sunny and bearing herself to know what fear meant. I'll dive that her old pig bay. She always cried, and so she did, inside the kitchen the glass was added to her, and she trotted up to the old woman in her corner with it. Undismayed by the near sight of the queer, wisened old face, like a red and yellow, withered apple, and the bright piercing eyes, to be seen at the end, as it were, of a sort of overhanging archway of shawls and hangerchiefs and queer, frilled, hip-piece, under all, which Betty managed, in some mysterious way to half-bury herself in. She always murmured blessings on the child as she drank the wine, and no doubt this little ceremony was the beginning of her devotion to the baby of the family. This devotion was made, still greater by what happened one day. There were unkind and thoughtless people at Christons, as well as everywhere else, and one summer there came some new folk to live in, one of the cottages inhabited by Uncle James's, farm-labourish. This did not often happen, as he seldom changed his people. These strangers were from some distance, and had never happened to come across the per half-witted, old woman, and there were two or three rough boys in the family who were spoilt and wild, and who thought themselves far above the country-people, as they had lived for some time in a small time. And so one day, oh dear, I am getting this chapter of Mother Story too long, I must begin the new one. Part three, well one day, as I was saying, the children who had not seen Old Bay for several weeks, were on their way to the village two miles off. When near the corner of a lane they heard a great noise, loud voices and jeering laughter, and a kind of strange, shrill shrieking, which made them stare at each other in wonder and almost fear. Nurse was not with them; they were to meet her further down the road, as she had gone on first, with a message to a woman, who was ill. What can it be, said Missy? They hurried on to see, and the mystery was unexplained. There in the midst of a little grip of boys, and two or three girls also, I am afraid, stood the poor, old idiot. She was convulsed with rage, screaming, shrieking, almost foaming with fury, while first one then another darted forward and gave a pull to her. Skirts or jacket, from behind, on as quickly as she turned, a fresh tormentor would catch at her from the other side, all shouting together at the top of their voices. What is it this time, my lady Barry? Thor, ye have him, no. They were not hurting her, but it was the insult she felt so keenly. For she was used to respectful treatment. The Simpson boys, the new corners, were in the front of the fray, of course. For a moment the five graceness children stood speechless with horror. Then Johnny darted to the idiot side. He did it with the best intentions, but Barry confused and blinded, that not distinguish him from the others, and dealt him a blow which sent him staggering back, as she howled out to him. E. Alfred, Lynn, take that. Run, Johnny, run, shrieked Missy. Which he, and Lil, who were twins and always kept together, had already done. Some, not out of cardis, but in search of help. But little Annette rushed forward. Bad boys that ye are, she sided with her little shrill baby voice that seemed to have suddenly grown commanding. Off with ye, ye shall not torment my good old Barry. For though the children's mother was most careful that her speech should be English, strong excitement would bring out their native tongue, and as the children uttered the last words, she flung her arms round the poor woman, who waken feeble as soon as her fury began to lessen, taught her to the ground, where they clung together the sorrow-crushed, aged creature, and the cherub-faced child absorbing in each other's arms. For pick Barry had known her little friend in an instant. "My bony we laddy," she murmured. "All bays in we laddy." And with her trembling fingers she untied the knotted corners of her bundle of legs, unsearching for the best of her treasures, the best and biggest of her whistling poles. She stuffed it into Annette's hands, strange to say the ruffian lead grip had already dispersed a monot againsting. It was soon after that that the children went back again for the winter to their London home. Next year saw them once more in the north, and as nurse unpacked their trunks she came upon the green parrot which Annette would never part from. "I wonder if pick Barry's still alive?" she said. "Oh yes, so far as was known at Greystance." She was rambling about, as usual, but she had not been there for some weeks. Fortunately for the children, however, it was near the time for her visit, as you shall hear. A few days after their arrival they were all out together. When they happened to pass by a cottage, whose owner was famed for a very choice breed of dogs he kept. Let's people for the wall into Sandy's yard and see if he has any new puppies said Johnny, and they all did so. No, there were no puppies to be seen, only an older dog, which the boys remembered by the name of Jog, and they called out to him. But Jog took no heed. He was moving about the little enclosure in a queer restless way, his head hanging down, his tail between his legs. "Her Jog," said he. "How dolly looks. What a shame of Sandy to have gone out and left him alone. For evidently there was no one at home in the cottage's truth to tell Sandy was off for the dog-doctor. Let's let him out," said Johnny, and cheer him up a bit. "You'll know us once he's out." And they did not hear a quick, but shuffling step up the lane, nor a panting, quavering voice, Barnes, Barnes, dinner-yay. It was pig-bait. Just arrived that morning, and left by Sandy in charge of his cottage. And the suspiciously suffering Jog, a charge she was quite able for. "Let no one gang near him," Sandy had said, "and my woman. Just ye sit at the gate there till I'm back. I'll no be long. But alas, the children have come round by the fields behind the cottage. It was too dead. The yard-gate was opened, and Jog, after sniffing and turning about, came slowly out. Her old Jog, said a net, always fearless, stepping, to stroke him. He turned upon her with a dreadful grile. He was not yet quite mad, but the poison was in him. And in another instant, deadly fangs would have been in the baby's tender flesh. But for the well-aimed blue, which flung the dog back, though only for a moment, it was very dashing at him, with her bundle of pigs. The only weapon at hand, the purr pigs smashed and crashing. But they only diverted Jog's attack. When Sandy and the dog-doctor came rushing up, she was on the ground, and Jog had already bitten her in two or three places. But all she said was, "My wee lady. I had him off. My wee lady." And they were able to secure him, so that no one else was bitten. No, Betty did not die of hydrophobia. She lived for a few months. No, not longer her old nerves and feeble frame had got their death flew. But she was tenderly cared for in a peaceful corner of the hospital at the neighbouring time. Uncle James and the children's parents took care that she should want for nothing, and, as her bodily strength failed her mind, seemed to clear. Well, when little an ant was taken to say, "Good-bye" to the brave old woman, Purr Pig Bay was able to whisper a word or two, loving hope, that she and her wee lady might meet again in the better land. And of Pig Bay, by Mrs. Mary Louisa Molesworth. An official message from Medicare. A new law is helping me save more money on prescription drug costs. Maybe you can save too. With Medicare's extra help program, my premium is zero, and my out-of-pocket costs are low. Who should apply? Single people making less than $23,000 a year, or married couples who make less than $31,000 a year. Even if you don't think you qualify, it pays to find out. Go to ssa.gov/extrahelp. Paid for by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. This summer, saddle up with the only sports book where you can bet on horse racing, FanDuel. Right now, new customers can get a no sweat first bet up to $500. Just download the app or go to fanduel.com/horses to score your no sweat bet up to $500. 21+ in present in Colorado. Offer valid on first real money wager of $5 or more. Verify an FD racing account required. Bonus issued in non-withdrawable racing site credit that expire seven days after issuance. Max refund $500. Restrictions apply. See terms at racing.fanduel.com, gambling problem, call 1-800-GAMBLER.