HER LITTLE GIRL.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2722, 29 January 1910, Page 4 (Supplement)

HER LITTLE GIRL.

We met upon the common ground of each having a little black dog who each took a rather unfriendly interest in the other; otherwise there was nothing to justify us meeting at all. I am a poor judge of children’s ages, but guessed her to be about six years old. Her dres s suggested the old-fashioned pirate of romance, with its stocking cap, striped jersey, and bright skirt. It did not, however, seem to blend with. her small personality, for from under the rakish cap a deliciously demure little face appeared, with large grave grey eyes, and the chestnut curls that looked as if- they longed to dance about her face wore pushed sedately back. Our introduction did not proceedlipou the lines of the poet and the little girl in “Wc are seven.” 1 did not ask her impertinent personal questions, and she did not give me irritating answers, for we were both busily engaged in quelling the signs of strife before us, and ruffled pets, bad to be carried away in different directions. Afterwards we kept each to our own side of the street until the advent of a disreputable grey cat in the neighborhood made our. respective pets cry a truce, and form a combination of attack upon tlieir common enemy. Then we* both walked on my side of the street. She introduced herself to me, simply and graphically. “I’m her little girl,” with a comprehensive -wave towards No. 27. I had noticed “her,’’ a rather pretty woman, who, much underdressed, wandered aimlessly about. Being of a shy, reserved nature, my acquaintance with the child did not grow rapidly, and I never asked her name; she was just “her little girl.” She told me that she liked school, and was getting along with her lessons “right fast,” so as to be a teacher herself. She had 'never heard of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” and I don’t know which of us was the more delighted—she going over them for the first, or me for the twentieth time. We also went . “Through the Looking Glass” with “Alice,” and then wo entered the charmed realms of Hans Andersen and so into Fairyland. She appeared to think that my knowledge of the fairies was something to wonder at, and asked me if I had any little girls who had told ino about them. When I explained that I had never had any little girls of my own, that Pow-wog the “annimile” and I lived all alone by ourselves, I thought I saw a look of pity in her eyes, as with a child’s quick perception she glanced at the grey streaks in my hair, which I strive so hard to conceal. Unlike most children, you could not insult her in a pecuniary way; she would, with the utmost gravity. Tefuse a penny, though confessing she was fond of “spice,” so that I was compelled to buy the “spice’’ myself, much to 'Pog-wog the annimile’s delight and iny own discomfiture, for I have not a sweet-tooth, hut “her little girl” would only accept the sweets on the condition that Fido, Pog-wog, and I shared equally with her. I thought Fido was rather an uninteresting dog until she told me that it was because he knew such a lot that he was quiet and rather dejected. Sho always told him all her troubles, and he was a great comfort. We had, by this, got into the way of extending our walk into the main street, where we would look into - the shop windows. Our neighborhood is too poor to rejoice in toy shops, and the principal attraction to the children is the undertaker’s window, where a miniature funeral, with little horses, hearse, plumes, and “everything,” usually Iras an admiring group of youngsters around it. She, like the rest, appeared to he fascinated by this, to me, peculiarly horrible display, but what charmed her more than the little horses and hearse was a particularly hideous—if one such •thing can be more hideous than another —glass shade of artificial flowers, with a card inscribed, “At Rest,” and which she longed to possess. I could not understand why she '•should desire- such a thing until she explained that it was lake the shade of wax flowers in the window r of No. 27 where “her” and her little girl lodged. I had noticed that shade of wax flowers. It gave No. '27 an air of prim respectability that rather belied - the “sounds of revelry by night” I had heard there, and which made the 1 problem of her little girl’s future as a teacher seem rather doubtful. In fact, I found.the problem getting beyond mo. so : I consulted others more capable of,. dealing with stich matters,’ arid heard, to my dismay, that such cases were delicate and difficult matters, hut something should be done. However, the problem solved itself. We were called away, Pop-wog and I, for a few days, and, on our return, going for our usual exercise, I saw something I would have given much not to have "seen. Out of 27 they were carrying a little udiitc coffin, and, from the signs of festivity in the “mourners” and the extra large feathers in “her” liat I saw insurance money. I wonder if Pog-wog would let me have another dog? At any rate I should be. firm with him. He must take his exercise in another direction. To-morrow we will go into tbe main street, and buy a shade of wax flowers. —Leslie Morgan, in the Manchester “Chronicle.”