IT was bitingly cold. A boy and a monkey sat on a door-step. The monkey crept inside the boy’s jacket for warmth, and so, cuddled together, they slept.
They went a long way in their sleep, till they came to a place called Heaven. Tom had often been told of it. A happy place where flowers blossom all the year, and where no one is hungry or cold. They stopped at the door, and peeped in. Ah! Tom drew in his breath longingly. It was a lovely place: soft carpets lay on the floor, big fires blazed on the hearths, with curly rugs in front. A gay chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with glass. Under it was a table, covered with a tablecloth, and on the table was a plum- pudding, and mince-pies, and a plate full of bananas and ginger- nuts. Their mouths watered. Tom wondered who was going to enjoy all these delights. He wished they were for him and Jacko.
As he watched, an angel came to the door—Tom had been told about them too—an angel with white shining wings. And he said to Tom,
“Who sent you?”
And Tom said, “No one.”
And the angel said, “What have you got inside your jacket?”
And Tom unfastened his coat, and a little wrinkled face looked out.
And the angel said, “Will you leave him outside?”
But Tom said, “No.”
And Jacko put his left arm round Tom’s neck, and curled his tail round his right hand.
Then the angel smiled. He opened the door wide, and Tom and Jacko went in together.
* * * * *
Another boy, asleep in a warm bed, was dreaming too. And he went a journey in his sleep, and came to a place called Heaven, a “jolly” place, where boys play all day long, and lesson-books are left outside, and no one is punished, or “kept in,” but all enjoy themselves. There they sail boats which never capsize, and marbles are never lost. And an angel came to the door, and said,
“Who sent you?”
Ned said, “No one.” And the angel said,
“No one can come in alone, no one has spoken for you, no one inside knows you.”
But Ned pleaded.
Then the angel went inside, and came back with a grave face, saying, “Come with me.”
And he took him to a field which was full of wounded and maimed animals and birds. There was the sea-gull, one wing broken by a shot from Ned’s gun, the birds he had hurt with his catapult, the rats he had let his dog worry, the cats he had bullied. He knew them all, and he hung his head.
Then he said to the angel,
“I will get my robin. He will speak for me.”
And he went back, and came again in his dream to Heaven, carrying a robin in a cage. He had never forgotten to feed it. And the angel said to the robin,
“What have you to say?”
And the robin said, “My young ones died in the nest for want of me. My mate is alone.”
And the angel said, “You hear?”
And Ned hung his head, and turned to go. But as he went, he opened the cage door, that the robin might fly.
And it flew straight back to Heaven, but the door was shut. And it hopped upon the handle, swelled its throat, and poured forth a gush of song.
And the angel heard it, and opened the door.
Then he smiled, and called Ned back, and opened the door wide, and he went in.
Bessie Joynes
The Animals’ Friend, 1896-97, pp. 142-3