Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Miss Cordelia's Accommodation Poor little creatures,
Said Miss Cordelia compassionately.
She meant the factory children.
In her car ride from the school where she talked to the bridge that spanned the river between Potsdam,
The sooty little manufacturing village on one side and Point Pleasant,
Which was merely a hamlet on the other,
She had seen dozens of them playing and quarrelling on the streets or peering wistfully out of the dingy tenement windows.
Tomorrow is Saturday,
She reflected,
And there's no better place to play than in the back streets and yards.
It's such a shame.
There's work for our philanthropists here,
But they don't seem to see it.
Well,
I'm so sorry for them.
It hurts me to look at them,
But I can't do anything.
Miss Cordelia sighed,
Then brightened up because she realised she was turning her back upon Pottstown for two blissful days and going to Point Pleasant,
Which had just one straggling L-shaped street,
Hedging on old-fashioned gardens and cosy little houses and trailing off into the real country in a half-hour's walk.
Miss Cordelia lived alone in a tiny house at Point Pleasant.
It was so tiny,
You would have wondered how anyone could live in it.
But it's plenty big for a little old maid like me,
Miss Cordelia would have told you,
And it's my own.
I'm queen there.
There's solid comfort in having one spot for your own self.
To be sure,
If I had less land and more house,
It would be better.
Miss Cordelia always laughed here.
It was one of her jokes.
There was a four-acre field behind the house.
Both had been left to her by an uncle.
The field was of no use to Miss Cordelia.
She didn't keep a cow and she hadn't time to make a garden.
But she liked her field.
When people asked her why she didn't sell it,
She said,
I'm fond of it.
I like to walk around it when the grass grows long,
And it may come in handy for some time.
Mother used to say if you kept anything seven years,
It would come to use.
I've had my field a good bit longer than that,
But maybe the time will come yet.
Meanwhile,
I rejoice in the fact I'm a landed proprietor to the extent of four acres.
Miss Cordelia had thought of converting her field into a playground for the factory children and asking detachments of them over on Saturday afternoons.
But she knew that her point-pleasant neighbours would object,
So that project was dropped.
When Miss Cordelia pushed open her little gate,
Hung crookedly in a very compact and prim spruce hedge,
She stopped in amazement and said,
Well,
For pity's sake!
Cynthia Anne Fleming,
Who lived on the other side of the spruce hedge,
Now came hurrying over.
Good evening,
Cordelia.
I have a letter that was left me for you.
But that horse,
Said Miss Cordelia,
With a long breath between every word.
Where did he come from?
Tied at my front door?
Had he eaten the tops off every one of my geraniums?
Where's his owner or rider or something?
The horse in question was a mild-eyed,
Rather good-looking quadruped,
Tied up by a halter to the elm of Miss Cordelia's door and contentedly munching a mouthful of geranium stalks.
Cynthia Anne came through the hedge with the letter.
Maybe this will explain,
She said.
Same boy brought it as bought the horse.
A little freckly chap,
Mostly all green and shirt sleeves,
Said he was told to take the letter and horse to Miss Cordelia Herry,
Elm Street,
Point Pleasant.
And he couldn't wait.
He tied the creature in there and left the letter with me.
It came half an hour ago.
Well,
He's played havoc with your geraniums and no mistake.
Miss Cordelia opened and read her letter.
When she finished it,
She looked at the curious Cynthia Anne solemnly.
Well,
If that isn't John Drew all over.
I suspected he was the bottom of it as soon as I laid my eyes on that animal.
John Drew's a cousin of mine.
He's been living out at Poplar Valley and he writes me he's gone out west and wants to take old Knapp to my home so that I will look after him.
I suppose old Knapp is the horse.
He says Knapp's getting old and not much use for work and he couldn't bear the thought of shooting him or selling him to someone who might ill treat him.
So he wants me to take him for old times sake.
John and I were just like brother and sister when we were children.
This isn't like him.
Nothing ever was.
But you don't mean you're going to keep the horse,
Do you?
Protested Cynthia Anne.
He's no good to you and think of the expense of feeding him.
I'll keep him for a while,
Said Miss Cordelia briskly.
As you say,
There's the four acre field.
It'll keep him in eating for a while.
I always knew that field had a mission.
Poor John Drew.
I'd like to oblige him for old times sake.
As he says,
Although this is as crazy as anything he ever did,
But I got a plan.
Miss Cordelia always adapted herself quickly and calmly to new circumstances.
It's never any use to get in a stew about things she was wont to say.
She untied Knapp gingerly with many rueful glances at her geraniums and led him away to the field behind the house.
There she tied him safely to a post with such an abundance of knots.
There was small fear of his getting away.
When the mystified Cynthia Anne had turned home,
Miss Cordelia set about getting her tea and thinking over the plan that had come to her.
I can keep him for the summer,
She said.
I'll have to dispose of him in the fall for I've no place to keep him in.
And I couldn't afford to feed him.
But I'll see if I can borrow Mr Griggs' express wagon for Saturday afternoons.
And if I can,
Those poor factory children in my grade shall have a weekly treat or my name is not Cordelia Herry.
Not so sure but that John Drew has gone and done a good thing after all.
All the Point Pleasant people soon knew about Miss Cordelia's questionable windfall.
She was overwhelmed with advice and suggestions.
She listened to all tranquilly,
Then placidly she followed her own way.
Mr Griggs was very obliging in regard to his old express wagon and the next Saturday Point Pleasant was treated to a treat or a name.
Treated to a mild sensation.
Nothing less than Miss Cordelia rattling through the village enthroned on the high seat of his yellow express wagon drawn by old Knapp who,
After a week of browsing idleness in the four-acre field,
Was quite frisky and went in at a decided amble down Elm Street and across the bridge.
Before anyone knew it,
The long wagon was filled up with board seats and when Miss Cordelia came back over the bridge they were crowded with factory children,
Pale-faced little creatures whose eyes were aglow with pleasure at this unexpected outing.
When they reached the field they were turned loose to revel around and when dinner time came she gathered them all around her and went back to the wagon and in it she had a basket of bread and butter.
I can't afford anything more,
She told Cynthia Anne but they must have something to stay their little stomachs and I can get some water at a farmhouse.
To this Miss Cordelia took her way surrounded by her small passengers and they all trooped into the great farmhouse yard just as big as a big man stepped out of a nearby barn.
As he approached Miss Cordelia thought she'd never seen anyone so much like an incarnate smile.
Smiles of all kinds seemed literally to write over his ruddy face and in and out of his eyes and across the corners of his mouth.
Well,
Well,
Well,
He said when he came near.
Is this a runaway school,
Mum?
I am the runaway school,
Mum,
Responded Miss Cordelia with a twinkle and these are a lot of factory children I've bought out for a Saturday treat.
I thought I might get some water from your well.
Maybe you'll lend us a tin dipper or two.
Water?
Tut,
Tut,
Said the big man,
Milk's a thing,
Mum,
Milk.
I'll tell my housekeeper to bring some out and all of you come over to the lawn and make yourselves a home.
My name's Smiles,
Abraham Smiles.
Well,
If it doesn't suit you,
Said Miss Cordelia emphatically.
Then she blushed rosy red over her bluntness.
Mr Smiles laughed.
I guess I have an everlasting grin on,
He said.
Had to live up to my name,
You see,
In spite of my naturally cantankerous disposition.
But come this way,
Mum,
I can see the hunger sticking out of these youngsters' eyes.
We'll have a sort of impromptu picnic here and now and I'll tell my housekeeper to send out some jam,
Too.
While the children devoured their lunch,
Miss Cordelia found herself telling Mr Smiles all about old Nap and her little project.
I'm going to bring out a load every fine Saturday all summer,
She said.
It's the best I can do and they'll enjoy it so,
The little creatures.
It's terrible to think how cramped their lives are.
Mr Smiles listened and beamed and twinkled until Miss Cordelia felt almost as dazzled as if she were looking at the sun.
Look here,
Mum,
I like this plan of yours,
He said,
And I want to have a hand in helping it along.
Right here,
Bring your children right here to Beechwood Farm.
You can turn them loose in my beech woods and upland pastures.
I'll put out some swings for them.
I'll have some games and provide the refreshments.
It's no trouble at all,
For trouble and I ain't on speaking terms.
It'll be a pleasure.
When Miss Cordelia and her brood of tired little lads and lassies ambled back to town in the golden dusk,
She felt the expedition had been an emphatic success.
Even old Nap seemed to jog along,
Eye deep in satisfaction.
And every fine Saturday that summer,
She took some of the factory children out to the country,
Just as she promised.
The point pleasant people nicknamed her equipage Miss Cordelia's Accommodation,
And it became a mild standing joke.
But when the big bronze and golden leaves began to fall in the beech woods,
She sorrowfully realised the summer was over,
And the weekly outings,
Which she'd enjoyed as much as the children,
Must soon end.
I feel so sorry,
She told Mr Smiles,
But it can't be helped.
It'll soon be too cold for our jaunts,
And of course,
I can't keep Nap through the winter.
I do hate to part with him.
I've grown so fond of him,
But I must.
Mr Smiles coughed in an embarrassed fashion.
I want to buy him,
He said,
But that's not the only thing I want.
I'm tired of being a cross old bachelor.
I think I'd like to be a cross old husband for a change.
Do you think you could put up with me in that capacity,
Miss Cordelia?
Miss Cordelia gave a half gasp,
Then she started to laugh.
Mr Smiles,
She said.
Then you'll come,
He said eagerly.
Half an hour later,
Miss Cordelia and Mr Smiles had their plans all made.
At New Year's,
Miss Cordelia was to leave her school,
And sooty Pottstown,
And come to be mistress of Beechwood Farm.
And look here,
Said Mr Smiles.
Every fine Saturday,
You'll have a big roomy sleigh and nap,
And drive into town for some children,
And bring them out here for their weekly treat,
As usual.
The house is large enough to hold them,
And it isn't as if there isn't barns for the overflow.
This is going to be our particular pet charity all our lives,
Mum.
I mean,
Cordelia,
My dear.
And Miss Cordelia looked at Mr Smiles with a happy light in her eyes.
And as for old Nap,
She said smilingly,
He shall live in Clover for the rest of his days.
