Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-10-22
The Story that Was Told to Meta Rose.

Now, META Rose" said Mamie, to
the faxen-haired dolly, eff you will sit
very still, and not muss your pink dress,
l will tell you a story.
- 1t isn't wrong story, Meta Rose,
and it isn't a made-up story. It's Just
a really, truly story, about what hap
pened TO little girl; are you listening.
Meta Rose? giving the pink-robed
lassie little shake.
Well, once on a time there was a
little girl about as big as me. She
lived in pretty house, with her papa
and mamma and her big brother and
sister; but she wasn't bit happy, no,
not single bit!
IAN the little girls in story-books
have golden curls, and most all real
little girls have light brown hair or
black hair; but this little girls hair
wasn't like anybody else's-ft was red!
just think of that, Meta Rose! What
should you do if your hair was red, in
stead Of light and fluffy?
But this little girl wouldn't have
felt so very bad about it, only her man.
ma wouldn't let her wear it long and
crimped like the other little girls she
played with. No, her papa took her to
the barber's one day, and he cut it off
just as close with some horrid, great
scissors, and then he brushed it down
smooth and tight without putting the
least mite of curl in it, and the little
girl went home and cried and cried and
criedl
And her brother said. What makes
you cry, Red-TopP and that made her
cry all the harder. And that's all about
her hairi
Then this little girls nose wasn't
straight and pretty. so folks wouldn't
keep talking about it, like other little
girls noses. 1t wds real short and
turned up at the end, and everybody
that came to see her mamma said,
Where did she get such a pug nose?'
"And when her sister got mad at her
she called her 'Puggv,' which made the
little girl feel real bad, and sometimes
when her sister wasn't looking she'd
cry. And that's all about her nose!
This little girls face wasn't all nice
and white, with just pink cheeks, like
yours, Meta Rose. It was freckled all
over, and she could never run out doors
without her hat, like other little girls,
for her mamma'd always say:
Don't forget your hat! believe l
must make that child a sun-bonnet;
she's getting so freckled she won't be
! fit to be seem
Sometimes her papa called her
| SpOtty, for fun; but it never was funny
a bit, Meta Rose. And that's all about
her frecklesl
Then there was one other dreadful
thing that made the little girl feel so
bad, and that was-she was fat!
Everybody said, What a little
dump you arer and one day her sister
said, Come, little Fatty, run up stairs
and get my book and when the little
girl got up stairs she went and hid in
the garret and cried and cried!
big folks don't seem to think little
girls have any feelings. Meta Rose, and
they keep hurting them every day.
when get to be big and see any
body with red hair and freckles and a
little pug nose and real fat, I'll say,
You're just darling, and love you
as well as if you had yellow, curly hair
and looked like other little girls and
then won't that little girl be glad!
but nobody knows that this little
girl cares if they do call her Spotty and
Puggy and Red-Top, because she's so
pre-oud that she laughs as hard when
it's all cry inside. And that's the end
Of the story, Meta Rose, and it's every
word true"
Mamie's hair is Just as bright a color
as it was on the day she told her dolly
this long story about herself, and it will
be many months before it will be long
enough to fall in glossy waves over her
plump shoulders.
But she does not seem to be unhappy
about it any more, for her brother new
er calls her Red-Top now.
Her dimpled face shows as many
freckles as it used, but papa never re-
minds his little girl of them by calling
her Spotty. No one would suppose he
ever noticed them.
Mamie's roly-poly figure has grown
no more slender since that day, and
her nose turns up as abruptly as ever;
but the nicknames of Fatty and Puggy
seem to be forgotten, and the little girl
is as light-hearted and merry as any of
her fair-haired, freckleless playmates.
1t may be that somebody stole softly
upstairs one afternoon and overheard
the story that was told to Meta Rose
Mabel c. Doi0d, IN YOUTHS Companion.