The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1873-07-18
Kistv's Figs.

i said she, JumDllnS over HeE SpoOh III
her haste to tell Norah.
The baker reached the kitchen
door almost as soon as Kisty.
"Anything to-day ma am?'
"Two white loves, if you please"
said Mrs, Read, who was helping
about the fruit-cake. "Run Kisty,
and get mammals purse off her bu-
reau."
The child brought it, and looked
on while the bread was being paid
for.
Here, dear" said her mother,
shaking some soiled visiting cards
out of the port-moanaie. "You may
have these to play with. Now put
mamma's purse back where you
found it."
klsty was gone a second time, but
presently she ran down again to her
garden, Mrs. Read would not have
felt so easy stoning in the pantry,
| if she had known that the baker had
left the gate unfastened.
Kisty was not slow to discover the
fact. Unfortunately she still held
the cards in her hand. They gave
her an idea.
"Klsty'll go calling" she said,
whisking through the gateway, with
back glance to see if anybody was
looking. She felt quite equal to the
undertaking, for hadn't she been Wis
iting once with her mother, and car
ried the card case all the way.
"'Come in, 90 pity littleP That
what the ladyll say" she prattled
on 10 her self, climbing the steps of
the first house round the corner,
dragging armless Rosy after her by
stocking yarn hair.
"Oh, what high-up bell! Spect
the mans thought Kisty's bigger
Even ON tip toe she could not
reach it. She put Rosa down and
stood on top of her, but then she
could only touch the bell-knob with
the tops Of her fingers.
"Oh my susl Guess Kisty'll have
to knock, and she did knock, so
very gently that nobody in the world
could have heard her.
"Peoples is gone way off," said
she, slipping card under the door
as she had seen her mamma do when
nobody answered her ring. ,'Kisty
will give them a card when they
come back. Her didn't ont to be
selfish girl"
After that she did not try to pull
any more bell-knobs, but contented
herself with leaving cards at every
house on that side of the street. One
happened to be church, and anoth-
er an oyster saloon, but it was all
the same to Kisty.
When she got to the provision
store on the second corner from
home, she had only a single card
left. As the door stood open she
carried it in, and ran up to a pleas
ant looking man who was sorting ap-
pies.
'Kisty's come a calling" she said,
blandly, sitting down on pile of
Goldfish.
"What upon earthr' cried the
young man, starting in surprise at
the droll little figure.
"Me and Rosy's come a calling"
repeated Kisty, holding up the long
suffering doll, "and hers tired. Take
Rosy, will oo!"
"Thank you, no, You must excuse
me! What's your name-Grand-
mother Grimseyp
''Kisty Weed" said she drumming
her small boot heels against the cod
fish, in some resentment at being
called grandmother"
"Where do you live?'
What made folks forever and ever
ask that? She drew in her lips till
there wasn't q snip of scarlet to be
seen, she was so afraid she should
tell, for she shrewdly suspected the
man wanted to send her home. In
offering Rosy to the man, she had
dropped her card, and it lay on the
floor, face upward, with "Mrs. Henry
Reed, No. 9 Oak St." written very
clearly on in. ais that yoursY ask
ed the young man, reading the ad-
dress.
otis mammals, for when Kisty
goes callin'," said she with long
ing glance at the piles of fruit.
''Kisty loves dppuls, she does.
The clerk ran to the door and call
boy in a market-wagOn.
"Here, Jim. you have orders at
Oak street; leave this bundle at No.
6, will your?
Then, almost before Kisty knew
it, he had lifted her and Rosy upon
the seat and given the boy the card
so he could not mistake the direction.
The horse teotted of at brisk
pace, and the svusre basket on the
floor of the wagon danced up and
down. These were filed with veget-
ables and other articles that people
had ordered for their dinners, and
Kisty's driver every now and then
stopped at door to leave one. She
found it great fun to go about in
this fashion, and she was having a
most delightful time when they drew
up at her fathers house on Oak
street.
"KistV don't want to be homer
said she, with twinge of conscience
at the thought of meeting her moth
er, for in the depths of her little
heart she knew it was wrong to run
away. But when the boy lured her
with a paper of figs, she was won
derfully soothed. She let him lift
her down at once, and skipped past
him through the back gate. OF
course he ought to have gone in
with her and told her mother where
he found her; but being a bashful
boy he did no such thing. He
watched her in at the kitchen door
and then drove of.
Nobody had missed Kisty. Her
mother was up stairs combing her