The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

12 THE EVIL GENIUS. and her name is Syd. The other is a boy, untidy in his clothes, as you see. Their kind mamma forgives them when they are naughty, and buys ponies for them to ride on, and always hag someting nice for them to eat when they are hungry. Have you got a kind mamma, Lizzie? And are you very fond of her? Those innocent allusions to the neglect which was the one sad - experience of Syd’s young life, touched the servant’s heart. A bygone time was present to her memory, when she too had been left without a playfellow to keep her company or a fire to warm her, and had not endured it patiently. ‘* Qh, my dear,” she said, ‘* your poor little arms are red with cold. Come to me and let me rub them.” But Syd’s bright imagination was a better protection against the cold than all the rubbing that the hands of a merciful woman could offer. ‘‘ You are very kind, Lizzie,” she answered. ‘‘I don’t feel the cold when I am playing with my children. I am very careful to give them plenty of exercise; we are going to walk in the park.” She gave a hand to each of the dolls, and walked slowly round and round the miserable room, pointing out visionary persons of distinction, and objects of interest. ‘‘ Here’s the queen, my dears, in her gilt coach, drawn by six horses. Do you see her scepter poking out of the carriage window? She governs the nation with that. Bow to the queen. And now look at the beautiful, bright water. There’s the island where the ducks live. Ducks are happy creatures. They have their own way in everything, and they’re good to eat when they’re dead. At least they used to be good, when we had nice dinners in papa’s time. I try to amuse the poor little things, Lizzie. Their papa is dead. I’m obliged to be papa and mamma to them, both in one. Do you feel the cold, my dears?” She shivered as she questioned her imaginary children. ‘‘Now we are at home again,” she said, and led the dolls to the empty fireplace. ‘‘ Roaring fires always in my house,” cried the resolute little creature, rubbing her cold hands cheerfully before the bleak, blank grate. Warm-hearted Lizzie could control herself no longer. ‘* If the child would only make some complaint,” she burst out, ‘‘it wouldn’t be so dreadful! Oh, what a shame! what a shame!” she cried, to the astonishment of little Syd. ‘*Come down, my dear, to the nice warm room where your brother is. Oh, your mother? I don’t care if your mother sees us; I should like to give your mother a piece of my mind. There! I don’t mean to frighten you; I’m one of your bad children. I fly into a passion. You carry the dolls; and Ill carry you. Oh, how she shivers! Give usa kiss.” Sympathy which expressed itself in this way was new to Syd. Her eyes opened wide in childish wonder, and suddenly closed again in childish terror, when her good friend, the servant, passed Mrs. Westerfield’s door on the way down-stairs. ‘ If mamma bounces out upon us,” she whispered, ‘‘ pretend we don’t see her.” The nice warm room received them in safety. Under no stress of circumstances had Mrs. Westerfield ever been Gomicbdooks (EO)