The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1877-06-02
LITTLE POPCORN.
\ True story.

January, and sat at my office desk writ
ing, when small voice accOsted me with
| the above request.
Not this morning." l replied, rather
grufiy, and without glancing up.
Come, Jimmy, we must 90. He
won't buy any," | heard the small voice
say in whisper, This time there was
something sadly old in the childish tones.
They touched my ear ard heart together,
and turned quickly.
Before me was the figure of a little
girl, perhaps eight years old, poorly
clad, and beside her a boy-her brother,
as l afterward learned--a little older
than herself She carried small basket
of puffy white corn. There was such
look of innocence in her big gray eyes
that was fairly conquered.
Glow much is your popcorn, my
child?" I asked
The pretty mouth dimped with pleas
ure as she replied; 1.-Two cents cup,
sir, and two cups for five cents"
| smiled at this odd reckoning, and
said: ooh, you are mistaken You
mean, ! guess, three cents cup and two
for five cents?"
She shook her head very decidedly.
"No, sir, Pm sure. Mother said so, and
she always knows"
And who is your mother, child, that
she lets you come out such wild day as
this Isl"
D. My mother is at home sick, and
Jimmy and me does the work, and then
we pops corn, and sells it, and gets
money"
Growing interested in this small histo-
ry, | proceeded with my questions
What is your name?"
Maggie. But mostly they calls me
Little Pop corn"
" Well then, Little Popcorn, havey
a father"
Here, at last, | had touched some SEN
sitive chord in the small heart. The
sweet mouth trembled little, and she
replied, in trembling voice:
Yes, sir. But father went away and
left us seven years ago, when l was
baby, and now mothers sick-and me
and Jimmy-we has to'-here the voice
hesitated, and the tears came into the in
nocent eyes.
but, my child, haven't you heard
anything from him for seven whole
years."
80 yes. Last year a man came and
told mother how that father worked in
his mill once, and then father fell sick,
and he told Mr.. Hudson that he was COM
ing home as soon as ever he got we'll
again. But that was almost year ago,
and he isn't come yet"
Mt
lives, Maggie?"
Mother knows" was the quiet an
swer. . ..
Very well. Find out from your
mother where he lives, and write him
letter and ask about your father, without
letting her know it."
II can't write. I-only-print," was
the hesitating reply. 1851.
Just as WE'LL" said l. "Do that"
But haven't got any paper, or pen,
or ink"
supplied these deficiencies, and then
took her round to all the neighboring
offices, until she had disposed of her
corn, and both small hands were full of
pennies
How many are there." said l. clay
them down and I'll count. Fifteen and
five are twenty, and ten are thirty, and
three are thirty three"
She looked moment, half in bewil-
derment, half in delight, then said: "Is
it so, JIM" a.t ~ sr.
He nodded, and she grasped his brown
hand gleefully. "Why, Jimmie, it's
more'n we've made in two whole days
sometimes Let's buy an orange for
motherw
Then, remembering my presence, she
straightway grew old and digniied again,
and gravely said: "Thank you, sir" and
walked away, hugging her precious ink
and paper.
Several days passed, and l began to
believe had seen the last of Maggie.
Indeed, in the press of business, l had
almost forgotten the child's existence;
when one morning my Office door opened
very softly, and she stood before me. l
saw that she was somewhat embarrassed,
so l went busily on with my writing
She walked slowly across the floor and
stood at my side moment in perfect
silence. Then paper was laid on my
desk, rather grimy, to be sure, and a
good deal the worse for any foldings. l
said nothing, but opened the paper, and
read in letters of all sizes, from half
inch to a microscopic print, and leaning,
some to the east, some to the west, the
following letter: ...
Pleas Mr.. hudson tel me wher my father is
My mother is sick an me an Jimmie can't
ern much money selling corn. Pleas don't
forget to anser an tell me where he is.
l looked up, smiling, and said: But,
Little Popcorn, you haven't told him
who you are, nor what your name is, nor
anything about yourself. Now write
that down here in this corner" .
She took the paper and wrote silently
for few moments, then handed it back
with this added, away off in one corner:
1 am Maggie. Some call me Little Pop
corn. Jim is ten. | am ate.