Although he had arrived at his journey's end for the day at noon,
he had since insensibly walked about the town so far and so long that
the lamplighters were now at their work in the streets, and the shops
were sparkling up brilliantly. Thus reminded to turn towards his
quarters, he was in the act of doing so, when a very little hand crept
into his, and a very little voice said:
"O! If you please, I am lost!"
He looked down, and saw a very little fair-haired girl.
"Yes," she said, confirming her words with a serious nod.
"I am, indeed. I am lost."
Greatly perplexed, he stopped, looked about him for help, descried none,
and said, bending low:
"Where do you live, my child?"
"I don't know where I live," she returned. "I am lost."
"What is your name?"
"Polly."
"What is your other name?"
The reply was prompt, but unintelligible.
Imitating the sound, as he caught it, he hazarded the guess, "Trivits?"
"O no!" said the child, shaking her head. "Nothing like that."
"Say it again, little one"
An unpromising business. For this time it had quite a different sound.
He made the venture: "Paddens?"
"O no!" said the child.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259