Jessie's Parrot. Mathews Joanna Hooe

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ so is made happy himself," said Maggie. "There comes Patrick with the shawls and wraps."

      And now came Miss Ashton and a couple of lady friends, who had volunteered to go with her and help take care of the little party, bound for an excursion and ramble in the Central Park; and the signal being given for the merry group to take their places in the stage, forth they all fluttered, like so many birds; and amid much laughing and chattering stowed themselves away in the roomy conveyance.

      They were all seated, and Patrick, Mrs. Bradford's man, who had been lent for the occasion, was mounting to his seat beside the driver, when another gentleman, coming up with a quick step, pulled open the door of the omnibus, and popped in. He was plainly shortsighted, and did not see how matters stood until he was fairly inside and looking about for a seat.

      Perhaps, indeed, his hearing taught him first, for he might almost have thought himself in a nest of sparrows with all that chirping and fluttering. A smothered laugh or two also broke forth as he entered, and he speedily saw that he had no right to a place there.

      "Ah! private, I see. Beg your pardon, ladies," he said good-naturedly, and jumped out again, turning with a bow, and "I wish you a pleasant time." Then, as he caught sight of a roguish face and a pair of dancing eyes watching him with a look of recognition, he said, —

      "Why, Lily, my dear! Glad to see you. Bound for a frolic? I hope you may enjoy yourself; and your schoolmates as well. A merry day to you, birdies." With which he banged the door and watched them off.

      "Who's that gentleman, Lily?" asked more than one voice.

      "He is Kitty Raymond's father. His name is Mr. Raymond," answered Lily.

      "He is a nice, pleasant gentleman, is he not?" asked Bessie.

      "Well, yes, he is very pleasant," said Lily, "but then he is an awful liar."

      "Oh-h-h! ah! ah!" broke from one and another of the children at Lily's very plain speaking; and Miss Ashton said reprovingly, —

      "Lily, my child! what a very improper expression for you to use, and of one so much older than yourself, too."

      "I don't care," said Lily, "it is true, Miss Ashton. I know he tells the most dreadful untrue stories, and that does make him a liar, I know. If children say what is very untrue, people say it is a lie; and when grown-ups say what is not true to children I don't see why they are not liars all the same. And Mr. Raymond don't tell little stories what you would call fibs, either, but real big, true lies, what Tom calls whoppers. So, though he is pleasant and good-natured, I don't think he is so very nice; and I'm glad he is not my papa."

      Miss Ashton hardly knew what to say, for if Lily's accusations were true, – and the child was not apt to accuse any one wrongfully, – her reasoning was quite just, and it was plainly to be seen that in some way her sense of right and truth had been grievously offended. But still she did not wish to have her speak in such an improper way, and she was about to say so again, when Lily broke forth once more with, —

      "Miss Ashton, I'll tell you, and you can just judge for yourself. The other day I was spending the afternoon with Kitty, and her little brother wanted to go down stairs with us, and his papa did not want him to go; so he told him that the big black man in the closet in the hall would catch him and put him up the chimney. And it was a lie! I say it was a real, true lie," persisted Lily, who was apt to be emphatic in her choice of words, "for Mr. Raymond knew there was no black man there, and he just made it up."

      "Was the little boy frightened?" asked Belle.

      "Yes, as frightened as any thing, and he really believes there is a black man in that closet; and Willie Raymond, who is six years old, will not go past that closet without some big person. And I did feel not very brave myself when I went past it," confessed Lily, "for all I knew there was no black man there – and if there was, he wouldn't hurt me, the poor, old fellow – and knew it was just a – well, if Miss Ashton says so, I'll call it a fib, but I shall think it was a lie."

      Miss Ashton and the other ladies could hardly help smiling at Lily's tone; and the former felt that the child was so far right that she could scarcely reprove her again for her indignant attack upon this too common form of deceit.

      "And Mr. Raymond went and winked at me, just as if he thought I thought it was funny," pursued Lily; "but I thought it was only horrid, and I didn't smile a bit, but looked back at him very solemn. No, I don't like him, and I'm not going to."

      "You don't like him because you can't respect him," said Bessie with solemn gravity.

      "No, I just don't," answered Lily; "and I'm not going to go and have a respect for a person who tells – who says what is not true, not if they are as big and as old as a mountain."

      Lily's resolution was received with general approval; but now, at her suggestion, the subject was changed. There was enough to talk about without taking any unpleasant thing; and how those little tongues did go!

      It was a mild, lovely day in the early spring, uncommonly warm for the season, – just the day for an excursion. Modest crocuses, lovely hyacinths and gay tulips were in bloom; the willows were just clothing themselves in their first tender green, and every stream and spring rippled and sparkled and sang as if it were rejoicing in its new life and liberty.

      The park was fairly alive with children, who, like our little party, seemed determined to enjoy this bright, spring day to the utmost; but perhaps none were so gleeful and merry as our young friends.

      The windows of the omnibus were open, and the little girls had all scrambled upon their knees that they might the better see what was without; and many a grave countenance was won to smiles by the sight of the bright, joyous faces as they rolled past, and the merry peals of laughter which every now and then broke forth from the cumbrous vehicle. And they scattered not only smiles and bright looks wherever they went, but other good things also.

      Mabel Walton, who considered it almost impossible to enjoy oneself without a quantity of candies and sugar-plums on hand, had been furnished by her over-indulgent mother with a large supply of these delicacies; nor were most of the others without their share; so that Miss Ashton looked with some dismay upon the treasures which were displayed by one and another, fearing that her little flock might surfeit themselves with too many sweets before the day was over.

      However, her mind was soon relieved, at least in a measure. For Mabel having doled out a handful of sugar-plums to each of her companions, Bessie Bradford called out as the carriage rolled slowly up a hilly part of the road, —

      "Oh! see that little girl; what a nice face she has. But she looks so pale and sorry. I wish I had some pennies for her; but I will give her some of my sugar-plums. Perhaps she don't have many."

      Poor child! she looked as if she had not many loaves of bread, as she ran by the side of the omnibus, holding up her thin hand. A pale, sorrowful little face it was that looked up into those, so rosy and happy, above it; pinched, careworn, and old above its years, with that look so often seen in the faces of the children of the poor. Yet, in spite of her extreme poverty, she was not very ragged or very dirty; and as little Bessie had said, she had "a nice face," an open, straightforward look, a gentle expression, and a clear, honest eye.

      As she saw Bessie's hand outstretched, her face brightened, and as the little girl dropped two or three sugar-plums, she stooped hastily to pick them up; but when she raised her head again, the old weary look had come back, deepened now by disappointment.

      Just then the driver whipped up his horses and the omnibus rolled on faster, leaving the child looking sadly after СКАЧАТЬ