The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-12-31
Selected storm.
A New-Year's Story.

lie Daisy Mount, delightedly, to her
big sister Carrie.
Summoning all the dignity of her
seventeen years, Carrie replied, No,
of course you have not, for | have
never prepared to receive before"
And I'm to tend doorl OH won't it
be fun? / wish the first caller would
come now"
Daisy laughed merrily while she
talked, but Carrie answered, seriously,
and Just trife GROSSLY, Well, then,
don't. Surprising the bell should ring,
do YOU suppose | would receive calls in
this dress?" looking disdainfully down
at her blue worsted morning-dress.
You might; l don't believe the
young men would care. You look
pretty in anything" Daisy said, admir-
ingly.
Carrie laughed, and then answered,
Never mind any tlattery now; but
help me put the finishing touches upon
these rooms"
A half-hour later the rooms were I" all
ready" and Carrie ran to her room to
dress in the pretty wine-colored silk
made expressly for the occasion.
Daisy, being already attired in her
prettiest dress, an embroidered blue
cashmere, called in her mother to adj
mire the receiving-rooms"-that is,
the two parlors, with porterie curtains
hiding the sliding doors and the dining
room in the rear, separated from the
back parlor by another porterie curtain.
The Mount house was on a corner,
and the parlor and dining room win
dows faced the street, so that every one
passil g by that day had full view of
the pre- ttily-arranged windows. Many
stopped to admire the vines winding up
to the tops of the easements, the sweet
hyacinths smiling into their faces, the
waxy begonias and brilliant geraniums,
the gorgeous scarlet lilies and the
stately callas towering over all.
The flowers and the birds singing in
their pretty gilded cages were all
passers-by could see unless it was an
occasional glimpse at smiling face
peeping outward over the buds and
blossoms.
Daisy was kept very busy from
eleven to three letting in and out call
ers. After three there was short lull ,
and the family were left alone a little
while.
"Im most starved" Daisy said,
eating a sandwich in manner quite
suggestive of a famished condition,
"and, o mamma, | never tasted tur-
key so good as this.'
"That's because you are decidedly
hungry" Carrie said. " Everything
tastes better than usual to-day. |
never tasted such delicious salad, or
oysters, or jelly, or coffee, or anything
BEFORE" laughed Carrie; and with the
laugh came another ring of the bell.
Daisy, who had thrown down her
sandwich to attend the door, came back
with strange expression, half comic,
half serious, upon her face.
"There's a queer, little girl at the
door, mamma, all rags as to clothes
and she looks about as cold as a cake of
ice."
-" What does she want?'
81 don't know"
Whose child is she?"
"That l don't know, either But
she'll freeze to death if she stands there
long Can | call her in?" Daisy asked =,
impatiently.
g Yes, call her in, child. Take her
right through the hall into the kitchen, -
Mrs. Mount answered.
Just as Daisy and the strange child
reached the kitchen, the front-door bell
rang again.
You tend the door, Martha, please, !"
Daisy said to the housemaid. " I'm
tired and want to rest"
But she did not rest; she only how
cred about the strange child with a
pitying look upon her face.
You look cold, and tired, and
hungry" she said kindly. " Sit down
by the range, and throw off your hood .,
and I'll get you nice lunch"
The guest did as she was bid, aud
when the prettily-attired child brought
her a plate of nourishing food, she
thanked her with quivering lips.
What is your name?" Daisy asked.
"Dolly."
Whe:e do you live?"
Nowhere"
"Wha? How can you help living
some wher,?"
SCI mean nowhere particular Any
where | can find place"
"Who,e child are you!'
Nobody's."
Mrs. Mounts pleasant face appeared
to her, " Mamma, this little girl SAYS
she's nobody's child"
"What do you mean, dear? Have
you no mother and father?" Mrs.
Mount asked, kindly.
emo, ma'am; no mother, no father,
nobody" the girl answered.
" Mammal Mammai' called Carrie,
"wil you please come in and help en-
terrain? There's a whole sleigh-load
at the door, just about to descend upon
our eatables."
eyes, I'll be there in moment,
Carrie. And Daisy, dear, just let this
little girl, nobody's child, stay in the
kitchen until return.
An hour passed before Mrs. Mount
found an opportunity to look into the
kitchen again.
Mammal what do you think2 This
poor little girl sleeps in barrels, in
boxes, under door-steps, or in cold
sheds-anywhere and everywhere that
she can find place." Daisy said, in a