"Then the honey," said Bobbie, in haste, "and the boot-laces.HEsaid he respected a man that paid his way--and the butcher said the same.And the old turnpike woman said many was the time you'd lent her a hand with her garden when you were a lad--and things like that came home to roost--I don't know what she meant.And everybody who gave anything said they liked you, and it was a very good idea of ours; and nobody said anything about charity or anything horrid like that.And the old gentleman gave Peter a gold pound for you, and said you were a man who knew your work.And I thought you'd LOVE to know how fond people are of you, and I never was so unhappy in my life.Good-bye.I hope you'll forgive us some day--"She could say no more, and she turned to go.
"Stop," said Perks, still with his back to them; "I take back every word I've said contrary to what you'd wish.Nell, set on the kettle.""We'll take the things away if you're unhappy about them," said Peter; "but I think everybody'll be most awfully disappointed, as well as us.""I'm not unhappy about them," said Perks; "I don't know," he added, suddenly wheeling the chair round and showing a very odd-looking screwed-up face, "I don't know as ever I was better pleased.Not so much with the presents--though they're an A1 collection--but the kind respect of our neighbours.That's worth having, eh, Nell?""I think it's all worth having," said Mrs.Perks, "and you've made a most ridiculous fuss about nothing, Bert, if you ask me.""No, I ain't," said Perks, firmly; "if a man didn't respect hisself, no one wouldn't do it for him.""But everyone respects you," said Bobbie; "they all said so.""I knew you'd like it when you really understood," said Phyllis, brightly.
"Humph! You'll stay to tea?" said Mr.Perks.
Later on Peter proposed Mr.Perks's health.And Mr.Perks proposed a toast, also honoured in tea, and the toast was, "May the garland of friendship be ever green," which was much more poetical than anyone had expected from him.
"Jolly good little kids, those," said Mr.Perks to his wife as they went to bed.
"Oh, they're all right, bless their hearts," said his wife; "it's you that's the aggravatingest old thing that ever was.I was ashamed of you--I tell you--""You didn't need to be, old gal.I climbed down handsome soon as Iunderstood it wasn't charity.But charity's what I never did abide, and won't neither."All sorts of people were made happy by that birthday party.Mr.
Perks and Mrs.Perks and the little Perkses by all the nice things and by the kind thoughts of their neighbours; the Three Chimneys children by the success, undoubted though unexpectedly delayed, of their plan; and Mrs.Ransome every time she saw the fat Perks baby in the perambulator.Mrs.Perks made quite a round of visits to thank people for their kind birthday presents, and after each visit felt that she had a better friend than she had thought.
"Yes," said Perks, reflectively, "it's not so much what you does as what you means; that's what I say.Now if it had been charity--""Oh, drat charity," said Mrs.Perks; "nobody won't offer you charity, Bert, however much you was to want it, I lay.That was just friendliness, that was."When the clergyman called on Mrs.Perks, she told him all about it.
"It WAS friendliness, wasn't it, Sir?" said she.
"I think," said the clergyman, "it was what is sometimes called loving-kindness."So you see it was all right in the end.But if one does that sort of thing, one has to be careful to do it in the right way.For, as Mr.Perks said, when he had time to think it over, it's not so much what you do, as what you mean.
