There! I have drawn the chairs into the right corners,
and dusted the room nicely. How cold papa and mamma will
be when they return from their long ride! It is not time to
toast the bread yet, and I am tired of reading.
What shall I do? Somehow, I can't help thinking about
the pale face of that little beggar girl all the time. I can see
the glad light filling her eyes, just as plain as I did when I
laid the dime in her little dirty hand.
How much I had thought of that dime, too! Grandpa
gave it to me a whole month ago, and I had kept it ever since
in my red box upstairs; but those sugar apples looked so
beautiful, and were so cheap--only a dime apiece--that I
made up my mind to have one.
I can see her--the beggar girl, I mean--as she stood
there in front of the store, in her old hood and faded dress,
looking at the candies laid all in a row. I wonder
what made me say, "Little girl, what do you want?"
How she stared at me, just as if nobody had spoken
kindly to her before. I guess
she thought I was sorry for her, for she said, so earnestly and
sorrowfully, "I was thinking how good one of those
gingerbread rolls would taste. I have n't had anything to eat
to-day."
Now, I thought to myself, "Mary Williams, you have
had a good breakfast and a good dinner this day, and this
poor girl has not had a mouthful. You can give her your
dime; she needs it a great deal more than you do."
I could not resist that little girl's sorrowful, hungry
look--so I dropped the dime right into her hand, and, without
waiting for her to speak, walked straight away. I'm so glad I
gave her the dime, if I did have to go without the apple lying
there in the window, and looking just like a real one.
and dusted the room nicely. How cold papa and mamma will
be when they return from their long ride! It is not time to
toast the bread yet, and I am tired of reading.
What shall I do? Somehow, I can't help thinking about
the pale face of that little beggar girl all the time. I can see
the glad light filling her eyes, just as plain as I did when I
laid the dime in her little dirty hand.
How much I had thought of that dime, too! Grandpa
gave it to me a whole month ago, and I had kept it ever since
in my red box upstairs; but those sugar apples looked so
beautiful, and were so cheap--only a dime apiece--that I
made up my mind to have one.
I can see her--the beggar girl, I mean--as she stood
there in front of the store, in her old hood and faded dress,
looking at the candies laid all in a row. I wonder
what made me say, "Little girl, what do you want?"
How she stared at me, just as if nobody had spoken
kindly to her before. I guess
she thought I was sorry for her, for she said, so earnestly and
sorrowfully, "I was thinking how good one of those
gingerbread rolls would taste. I have n't had anything to eat
to-day."
Now, I thought to myself, "Mary Williams, you have
had a good breakfast and a good dinner this day, and this
poor girl has not had a mouthful. You can give her your
dime; she needs it a great deal more than you do."
I could not resist that little girl's sorrowful, hungry
look--so I dropped the dime right into her hand, and, without
waiting for her to speak, walked straight away. I'm so glad I
gave her the dime, if I did have to go without the apple lying
there in the window, and looking just like a real one.