|
Kittie was a
lively little girl, who lived with her mamma and papa, in a large
house, on a beautiful street, in a great city. She was up and down
stairs, from garret to cellar, in a minute, singing and dancing all
day long. She was such a dear, bright little girl, that every one
loved her. The cook in the kitchen, the maid in the parlor, and the
old gardener, petted and doted on her; each claimed her as their
own. The Monday after Thanksgiving, it happened to be wash day, and
Kittie, as usual, went into the laundry, to play with the soap-suds.
There was Mrs. Smith, the washer-woman, rubbing the soiled clothes
in the hot soap-water, and making the washboard sing, "rub, rub," as
loud as it could sing. Kind Kittie went up to her and said:
"Good morning, Mrs. Smith. Have you a little girl to love you?"
"No, my dear," said she. "I have no little girl, but I have a little
boy, and I love him dearly."
"A little boy! How old is he? What is his name?"
"His name is Christopher, but that is such a long name, that I call
him Kit, for short. He is just seven years old; his birthday was
last week."
"Kit, what a verry funny name that is; it almost sounds like Kittie,
does it not? But why do you not bring him to our house when you come
here to wash ? Does he not get very lonely at home by himself all
day?"
"Yes, he does get real lonesome sometimes. You must know, Kittie,
that he is lame, and walks with a crutch, and even then it pains him
to walk much; for this reason he must lie on his little bed, all day
long. How glad he is when I get home at night, for he has no one to
play with."
"Why, that is too bad," said Kittie. "How awful it must be, to lie
in bed all day long, and not be able to run and play about."
Then she heard her mamma calling, "Kittie, Kittie, where are you?"
"Here I am, mamma!"
With these words, she ran down the cellar steps, her mamma was in
the cellar, taking something out of yellow straw, and putting them
into a basket she held in her hand.
"Come here, Kittie, and help me carry the bulbs into the garden,
where John (the gardener) will plant them."
"What did you call them, mamma?"
"Lily bulbs."
"Why, they look like dead roots!"
"Yes, they do look like dead roots now, Kittie; but when they are
planted in the earth, they will grow, and get green leaves, and
after awhile, beautiful Easter lilies will come out among the
leaves."
"Oh, mamma!" said Kittie, looking at a very large root, "will you
let me have this one to give away?"
"Yes," said her mamma, "but you must tell me to whom you wish to
give the root."
Then Kittie told her mamma all about poor lame Kit; how he had to
lie in bed all day, and had no one to talk to, or to play with.
"Yes," said her mamma, "we will both take it to Mrs. Smith, and I
will tell her how to plant it, and how to take care of it."
When they came to the laundry, Kittie ran up to Mrs. Smith, and
said:
"Here is something for little Kit; something he can take care of and
love."
Well, that night, when the washing was done, and Mrs. Smith walked
up the long flight of stairs, to her room, where she and Kit lived,
she said to herself, "I will let Kit guess what is in this paper,
and see if he can guess aright." When she opened the door, the room
was quite dark, and a little voice cried
"Mamma, is that you? How glad I am that you have come. I was so very
lonely to-day, and the day seemed so long, oh, so long!"
"Yes, Kit, I am glad to be home again; but wait until I make a
light, and then you shall guess what I have brought you."
Kit guessed and guessed everything he could think of, from oranges
down to marbles, and at last he begged his mother to open the parcel
and let him see what was inside. Then his mamma undid the string and
unrolled the paper. How disappointed Kit was when he saw the brown
roots.
"Why, mamma!" he cried, "those are only dead roots, fit to throw
into the fire! What shall I do with, them?"
Then his mamma told him how Kittie had sent them to him, and how he
was to plant them, and water them, and love them. What should they
plant them in? They did not even have a flower-pot; but mamma found
a tin can, and into this they put some earth, and in the soft brown
earth they laid the roots, covered them up, and sprinkled the earth
with water. For two weeks they put the can in a dark corner, as
Kittie's mamma had told them; after this it was set on the
window-sill, the only one in the room. Kit watched to see the green
leaves come out, and sure enough, one morning two tiny baby leaves
peeped out of the brown earth, and then others came, and more and
more, until the lily had a green stalk, almost a foot high. How
proud Kit was of it, for he had watered it, and nursed it every day,
and now he was anxiously looking for buds to come, but they would
not, and would not come. What could be the matter! One day he told
his mamma to please ask Kittie's mamma why his lily did not get
buds. The next Monday, when she washed there, she did ask her about
it.
"Does he give it water?" asked Kittie's mamma.
"Yes, he does," said Mrs. Smith.
"Does he ever wash off the leaves with a sponge, and does it stand
in the sunlight?" next asked the mamma.
"O no," said Mrs. Smith, "our window faces an alley, and the walls
of the opposite house are so high, that the sunbeams cannot get into
our room."
"Well, that is the reason; it will never bloom if it gets no
sunlight."
"When Kit's mamma told him that, he felt like crying, for he said
that his lily would never bloom. How bad he felt! But, just think of
it, the next day, while Kit was laying in bed, late in the
afternoon, a little sunbeam came into the room, and danced upon the
floor. Kit jumped out of bed as fast as he could, with his lame
foot, and put his lily right in it.. How happy the green leaves
looked, and how they shook themselves, as much as to say, "How good
this feels." Every day the little sunbeam came, and staid longer and
longer. One day as Kit was looking at his lily, he saw it was full
of tiny buds; such little wee buds, hardly as big as the head of a
pin. They grew larger and larger, until they were almost ready to
open. Easter was fast coming; the night before Easter, Kit said to
his mamma:
"I hope my twelve lily buds will open to-morrow, for they are Easter
lilies, and they should bloom on Easter Sunday."
Sure enough, when Kit woke up the next morning, the whole room was
filled with a sweet perfume; and when Kit rose up and looked, there
were the twelve lilies, wide open, with yellow centers, that looked
like golden pins. How happy he was! When mamma awoke, they dressed
and went to church, to see all the lovely flowers there. But when
they were coming home, Kit said to his mamma:
"Mamma, the flowers in church were beautiful, but none of the Easter
lilies were as large and pure as ours."
His mamma said she thought so too. Just then they passed a door that
was standing half open, and as Kit and his mamma went by, they saw a
little boy in bed, looking as white, and sick, and sad as could be.
"Mamma, what is the matter with that little boy? He looks as white
as my lilies."
"Yes," said his mamma, "he has been sick for a long time, and
to-day, when everybody is going to church, he must lie still in bed
and suffer pain."
When they got home, Kit looked at his lilies a long time, then
suddenly he kissed them, then took his hand and broke off the whole
stalk, and with his crutch under his arm, and the lilies in the
other hand, where do you think he carried them?
The Easter Lilies
A Fictional Short Story by
Agnes Taylor Ketchum & Ida M. Jorgensen
|
