Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1902-12-02
The.ch'xIlldl
And The
Clothes.

OAU9HX =
IL was the Child's birthday. She was
ten years old. That is the correct word
I-oid. for the Child had never. beer
young. Though she had lived ter
iainty, silken, befrilled years, she had
never romped as little children do, who
are young. She had never played tar
or odd Man." with a wild swirl OF
tumbied petticoats standing out from
her little flying legs. The Child had
never turned jubiliant somersaults in
the hay or in the wind heaps of dry
leaves. in the autumn. She had never
made delicious mudpies and set them to
bake in long. straight rows. in the sun.
The Child had never raced barefoot
down a green lane In that breathless,
ecstatic moment, when the sun, ready
for his rising, still hides his face an
instant more, behind the red hills; she
has never raced at all, or been barefoot
To be ten years old and never have felt
the cool. damp kiss of the dew on her
toes! Poor Child!
She had been robbed of her BIRTH
right, for the Child had never been a
child. Yet. on this birthday morning,
play of beautiful gifts. They quite en-
circled her-the little, grave, sweet
center Of the magnificenee. She could
put out her little soft, white hand-ir
had never been sunburned or roughened
lin any direction and it would touch
something wonderful and rich. On this
side, the smooth sickness Of a won-
drOus little gown; on that, the Golden
case Of a little jeweled watch. There
We're rings and bracelets and costly
little mun and tippet. There was even
a coll, but it was stately and exclusive
in its laces and silks. The Child felt no
temptation to snatch it from it's lofty
pedestal and crush it mother-wise
against her lonely little breast. She
did not even kiss its little patrician
face; she only smoothed once or twice
its beautiful clothes. The Child had
never owned blessed, rumpled. d.
lapidated doll that could be Rugged and
punished and rocked to sleep.
1t was very quiet in the great luxuri
Gus nursery. 1t was always quiet
there. 1t. too, had been robbed Of it's
birthright of childish stir and noise,
and the sweet, shrill echoes of a little
child's laugh. The child only smiled.
Usually she was as grave and preOc-
cupied as she was this birthday MORN
ing. When she sat in that motiOnless
way, with her hands folded on her lap.
she was always making believe" for
the child was always a great make-b be-
liever. 1t was the only way she played.
She had one favorite play. /. 20
Now suposing-just supposing," she
unused, that l was like the Girl Raga-
muffin-I think I'd rather be like the
Girl one.-and had on brown calico
kind of Dress The Child's little
gown was of the Sheerest muslin, with
daintiest lace and ribbon garniture,-
land surprising there weren't any
ruffies, not one, on it. OF course there
wouldn't be if / was a Ragamufhn!
And my legs were barefOOted, and SO
was my head-Oh, just supposing that!"
The Child uttered little soft excla-
nation under her breath that brought
the Nurse to her side. The Nurse was
never far away. .r
What is it, little mademoiselle ?" she
coOed anxiously. 1T is not that you
have pain, cherie?'
The Child did not answer, but she
had a pain, under the dainty laces. in
her heart. 1T made you ache to sup
posen you were the Girl Ragamuffin.
for of course. you knew you never,
never could be- 1t was just supposing,
that was all. You'd stay yourself ex-
actly the same and have on a dress
that you mustn't muss. and slippers
YOU mustn't scratch. You'd never,
never be a Girl Ragamuffin unless
The rhild's thoughts flashed back in
SANITY to the new prayer she had made
up the night before, after the Nurse
had gone away. 1t was right in the
line of her wistful musings now.
"Oh. Lord God" she had said,
turn me into Ragmuffin, please, the
minute l get into Heaven. think I'd
rather be Girl one, but l haven't
quite made up my mind. When l do
ri let YOU know. Don't let me have to
wear any ruffles. Lord Cod mean
please don't And want to go along
YOUR shiny golden street barefooted.
/ do dreadfully, Lord God-if you
please. Or. anyway. in my stocking
feet. could begin that way and kind
Of learn how -
The little prayer came back COM
fortingly to her now. If the Lord Coo
| had heard, maybe there was some
chance Of her being a Ragamumn,
after all-after she got into Heaven.
OF course she would have to wait a
| good while. Suddenly another Thought
| struck the Child. She wished she had
| remembered to put something else in
the prayer. If she dared to now. she
looked at the Nurse. The Nurse was
looking out of the window. So with
levitt stealthy little movement, the
child dropped to her knees for an in
slant.
Dear Lord God. I forgot something,
she breathed hurriedly--the Nurse
might turn at any moment forgot
to say that when l get used to oeine
lbarefooted and to the calico kind OF a
Idress. you know, then l want 10 run
Ion. please, Lord God! Amen!
Then she felt easier. A queer new
content crept through her delicate little