|
Percy Dale was a
dear pink-and-white little boy, with a tangle of golden ringlets so
long and silk that strangers often stopped him on the street to
admire them. He wouldn't have cared, only they sometimes stroked his
head and called him a "sweet little girl." Now Percy loved little
girls; but to be called a girl himself was not at all to his liking.
It always sent him running to his mamma to beg her to cut off his
dreadful curls that made people say he was "a little girl boy."
"Oh, no, no, darling, mamma can't shear her pet lamb," she would
answer with a kiss; "but by-and-b we'll ask Miss Olive to do it."
"By-and-by" was slow in coming, and Percy's fourth birthday found
him with curls longer and lovelier than ever. That morning, as he
stood by the gate, an old lady, passing, said to him, smilingly:
"Won't you sell me your beautiful, bright curls, little Miss? My
little grand-daughter hasn't any."
"Little Miss, indeed!" The words nearly broke Percy's heart. He
dragged his apron up over the hated ringlet and held it close till
the lady had gone. Then he hopped down from the gate, his eyes
shining with a happy thought. He would stop people from calling him
names! He would run across the street all by himself and ask Miss
Olive to cut his hair off so short that everybody'd know he wasn't a
girl! As it happened, his mamma had lately said to Miss Olive that
one of these days his curls must be clipped; so when the little
fellow told his errand, Miss Olive at once pinned a towel about his
neck, and snip, snip went her big shears through his wavy mane. She
put the longest curls in a paper box for Percy to carry home; and
not being a very tidy woman she threw the rest of them out of the
back window into the yard. These were spied by tow yellow birds,
about to set up housekeeping, and carried off, tress by tress, to
the lilac-tree in the garden. There the birds wove them into the
daintiest golden nest that ever was seen. In this they reared a
thriving little family; and when the cold winds came, and they all
flitted away to the sunny South, Miss Olive brought the empty nest
to Percy's mamma, who has kept it to this day.
The Nest of Gold
A Fictional Short Story by
Agnes Taylor Ketchum & Ida M. Jorgensen
|