Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

eyes as I entered the ward. Stretched upon one of the beds-her brown hair all mud-bedraggled, her face white and ghastly, her poor, beseeching eyes wet with tears-lay my little friend the fairy-queen. She was crying bitterly, not because of the pain she suffered, but because now she feared she could not hope to sing her song, wear her white dress or wings, as she had set her heart so much on doing. As I bandaged her poor crushed leg and side, I heard from the cabman who brought her in, that she had been run over while crossing the crowded street, probably very soon after I saw her, as I thought, for the last time. The wheels, I found, had passed over her right leg and side, and crushing two of her ribs, had caused internal injuries of which I had serious reason to fear the result. But she was a brave little woman, and when I had made her more comfortable she managed, as I sat on the bedside and held her hand, to tell me where her mother lived (her father was dead), but she did not seem very anxious to see her (why, I found out afterwards). Her greatest anxiety was to be able to play in the pantomime and wear those beautiful things: and can you blame me that at last I hushed her to sleep with the assurance that if she was very good and kept quiet now, perhaps she might do so after all. And though I knew that the greatest probability was that she would never get up again, and that even if she did, it must be after many weeks, or perhaps months, of patient suffering. I think when I said this to her I felt justified, having in my mind's eye a vision of happiness for her elsewhere.

In letting the relatives know of an accident it is usual for us to send a messenger, but I had taken such a special interest in this child that, as soon as I had given my instructions to the nurse, I decided to go myself. It was three o'clock in the morning as I let myself out, and walked briskly down the quiet street. The policeman on his beat was the solitary occupant with me of that great thoroughfare-the Strand, which so few hours ago had been teeming with life. He cheerily wished me "A Merry Christmas " as I passed, and so brought back to my mind that this was Christmas morning come round once more. As I crossed Waterloo Bridge the river shone like a streak of silver in the pale moonlight, and the great clock at Westminster chimed the quarter past three. Few sights can equal the Thames by moonlight, and I could not help pausing a moment or two to look at the rushing water. Back to my mind at once came the beautiful children's story, that all should read, "The Water Babies," and with it the song of the river

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Till I lose myself in the infinite main,

Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again."

Past Waterloo station, I turned into Lambeth Marsh, and by the help of another policeman I found the house I wanted up a court, leading out of this dirty neighbourhood. After repeated knocks at the door, a man put his head out of the window of a house opposite, and in a gruff voice asked, "What's yer little game." It was evident the policeman

knew the man, for he replied not very politely, "Don't happen to want you to-night, Simmons; but where's Mrs. Harris." "What do you want wi' her; arsk the bloomin' kid, her's at home, I reckon, if her mother aint." "The child is not here," I said, "she's had an accident." "H'accident eh," said Simmons, "Well, if you want to find her mother you'd better go to the lock-up, for the last time I see'd her she were rather lively, and was being took care on by two bloomin' coppers." "Drunk as usual, eh!" said the policeman, "Ah," said Simmons, and down went the window, and back I suppose went Simmons to bed. "It's no use your going to see her now, sir," said the policeman, "she'll be too drunk to talk to you yet, but won't she just be wild when she hears of the little 'un in the morning! Poor child, she's a pretty little thing; how she lives I dunno, for her mother drinks all she earns almost, and beats her into that. Won't she just swear, my eye! Whew!" and here he gave vent to his imagination by a long, low whistle. And so I left him, and slowly made my way back to the hospital, not at all wondering now how it was the child did not seem anxious to see her mother.

I had interested myself so much in this little waif of humanity that, although feeling tired and needing rest, I could not bring myself to retire to bed without taking one more peep at her, so I went on tiptoe into the ward where she lay. There was but a dim light burning, by the aid of which I could see the nurse standing by the bed, where I had left her two hours ago. She was leaning over the child, apparently smoothing the pillow. A presentiment that all was not well seized me, and I started forward, involuntarily, to question the nurse, but ere the words had passed my lips, the glimpse that I caught of the child had flashed the truth home to me, that she was dead. It was indeed true.

"The fair young face lay smiling,

With the angel light thereon."

She had passed away quietly, so the nurse told me, prettily babbling of wings and fairy-land, and I could not doubt as I stood and looked at her, and the sound of Christmas bells was borne upon my ears, bringing the glad message of a heavenly Father's love, but that the same Father, whose love for children is so great that "their angels do always behold His face," had sent His angels to bear her through the golden doors to that fairyland, where, indeed, she would "sing a new song," wear a white garment, and be clad with angel-wings.

SEEPE-N.

[graphic][merged small][subsumed]
« ZurückWeiter »