"My mamma wouldn't let me go to walk alone for 'most a monf."
"Why?"
"'Cause I used to stay a good while, and spend all my pennies at
Jake's shop."
"Where is that?"
"Vat's where vey sells candy. I've got some now. Want some?" He rested
the hoop against a convenient lamp-post and opened the bag invitingly.
"Thanks, no. You don't appear to have much to spare."
With a sigh of manifest relief, the child gathered up the crumpled top of
the bag once more.
"I did have some," he explained; "but I gave half of it to a boy. Vat's
what my Sunday-school teacher said I must do. And ven, by and by, I took
his hoop," he added, as he resumed his march.
"Did your Sunday-school teacher tell you to do that?"
"No; but I just fought I would. He couldn't give me half of it, you see,
for it wouldn't be good for anyfing if it was busted."
"No?" The stranger felt that the child's logic was better than his
moral tone.
"I'm going to be good now, all ve time," the boy went on, looking up with
an angelic smile. "When my mamma says 'No, Mac,' I shall say 'All right,'
and when my papa smites me, I shall turn ve uvver also. Vat's ve way."
"Does he smite you?"
The smile vanished, as the child slowly nodded three times.
"Yes, awful."
"What did you do to make him smite you?"
Silence.
"What was it?"
The stranger's voice was not so stern as it might have been, and the
smile came back and dimpled the child's cheeks, as he answered,--"Pepper
in ve dining-room fireplace.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25