|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 16
She pinched the package gently. Yes, there could be no doubt about it. It
was a doll,--not a very large doll; but Mary reflected that she had never
thought she should care for a large doll. Undoubtedly it was a very nice
one. Had she not found it in a swell part of the city, on the steps of a
swell-looking house? Mary gloated over the doll as she fancied it; with
real hair, and eyes that opened and shut; with four little white teeth, and
hands with dimples in the knuckles. She had seen such dolls in the windows
of the big shops. But she had never hoped to have one for her very own.
"Maybe it will have on a blue silk dress and white kid shoes, like that one
I saw this morning!" she mused rapturously.
She pinched the spot where she fancied the doll's feet ought to be.
"Yes, she's got shoes, sure enough! I bet they're white, too. They _feel_
white. Oh, what fun I shall have with her,"--she hugged the doll
fondly,--"if Uncle and Aunt don't take her away!"
The sudden thought made her stand still in horror. "They sold Mother's
little clock for rum," she said bitterly. "They sold the ring with the red
stone that Father gave me on my birthday when I was seven. They sold the
presents that I got at Sunday School last year. Oh, wouldn't it be dreadful
if they should sell my new doll! And I know they will want to if they see
her." She squeezed the bundle closer with the prescient pang of parting.
"Maybe they'll be out somewhere." With this faint hope she reached the
tenement and crept up the dingy stairs. She peeped in at the door. Alas!
Her uncle and aunt were in the kitchen, through which she had to pass. They
had company; some dirty-looking men and women, and there were a jug and
glasses on the table before them. Mary's heart sank, but she nodded bravely
to the company and tried to slip through the crowd to the other room. But
her aunt was quick to see that she carried something under her coat.
"What you got there? A Christmas present?" she sneered.
Mary flushed. "No," she said slowly, "just something I found."
"Found? Hello, what is it? A package!"
Her uncle advanced and snatched it from her.
"Please," pleaded Mary, "please, I found it. It is mine. I think it is only
a doll."
"A doll! Huh! Who needs a doll?" hiccoughed her uncle. "We want something
more to drink. We'll sell it--"
A bellow of laughter resounded through the room. The paper being torn
roughly away, poor Miranda stood revealed in all her faded beauty. The
pallid waxen face, straggling hair, and old-fashioned dress presented a
sorry sight to the greedy eyes which had expected to find something
exchangeable for drink. A sorry sight she was to Mary, who had hoped for
something so much lovelier. A flush of disappointment came into her cheek,
and tears to her eyes.
"Here, take your old doll," said her uncle roughly, thrusting it into her
arms. "Take your old doll and get away with her. If that's the best you can
find you'd better _steal_ something next time."
Steal something! Had she not in fact stolen it? Mary knew very well that
she had, and she flushed pinker yet to think what a fool she had made of
herself for nothing. She took the despised doll and retreated into the
other room, followed by a chorus of jeers and comments. She banged the door
behind her and sat down with poor Miranda on her knees, crying as if her
heart would break. She had so longed for a beautiful doll! It did seem too
cruel that when she found one it should turn out to be so ugly. She seized
poor Miranda and shook her fiercely.
"You horrid old thing!" she said. "Ain't you ashamed to fool me so? Ain't
you ashamed to make me think you was a lovely doll with pretty clo'es and
_white kid shoes?_ Ain't you?"
She shook Miranda again until her eyeballs rattled in her head. The doll
fell to the floor and lay there with closed eyes. Her face was pallid and
ghastly. Her bonnet had fallen off, and her hair stuck out wildly in every
direction. Her legs were doubled under her in the most helpless fashion.
She was the forlornest figure of a doll imaginable. Presently Mary drew her
hands away from her eyes and looked down at Miranda. There was something in
the doll's attitude as she lay there which touched the little girl's heart.
Once she had seen a woman who had been injured in the street,--she would
never forget it. The poor creature's eyes had been closed, and her face,
under the fallen bonnet, was of this same pasty color. Mary shuddered.
Suddenly she felt a warm rush of pity for the doll.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|