The New Mother. Lucy Clifford
bridge and the fields that led to the forest.
They had left the village and walked some way, and then, just before they reached the bridge, they noticed, resting against a pile of stones by the wayside, a strange dark figure. At first they thought it was some ne asleep, then they thought it was a poor woman ill and hungry, and then they saw that it was a strange wild-looking girl, who seemed very unhappy, and they felt sure that something was the matter. So they went and looked at her, and thought they would ask her if they could do anything to help her, for they were kind children and sorry indeed for any one in distress.
The girl seemed to be tall, and was about fifteen years old. She was dressed in very ragged clothes. Bound her shoulders there was an old brown shawl, which was torn at the corner that hung down the middle of her back She wore no bonnet, and an old yellow handkerchief which she had tied round her head had fallen backwards and was all huddled up round her neck. Her hair was coal black and hung down uncombed and unfastened, just anyhow. It was not very long, but it was very shiny, and it seemed to match her bright black eyes and dark freckled skin. On her feet were coarse gray stockings and thick shabby boots, which she had evidently forgotten to lace up. She had something hidden away under her shawl, but the children did not know what it was. At first they thought it was a baby, but when, on seeing them coming towards her, she carefully put it under her and sat upon it, they thought they must be mistaken. She sat watching the children approach, and did not move or stir till they were within a yard of her; then she wiped her eyes just as if she had been crying bitterly, and looked up.
The children stood still in front of her for a moment, staring at her and wondering what they ought to do.
“Are you crying?” they asked shyly.
To their surprise she said in a most cheerful voice, “Oh dear, no! Quite the contrary. Are you?” They thought it rather rude of her to reply in this way, for any one could see that they were not crying. They felt half in mind to walk away; but the girl looked at them so hard with her big black eyes, they did not like to do so till they had said something else.
“Perhaps you have lost yourself?” they said gently.
But the girl answered promptly, “Certainly not. Why, you have just found me. Besides,” she added, “I live in the village.”
The children were surprised at this, for they had never seen her before, and yet they thought they knew all the village folk by sight.
“We often go to the village,” they said, thinking it might interest her.
“Indeed,” she answered. That was all; and again they wondered what to do.
Then the Turkey, who had an inquiring mind, put a good straightforward question. “What are you sitting on?” she asked.
“On a peardrum,” the girl answered, still speaking in a most cheerful voice, at which the children wondered, for she looked very cold and uncomfortable.
“What is a peardrum?” they asked.
“I am surprised at your not knowing,” the girl answered. “Most people in good society have one.” And then she pulled it out and showed it to them.
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