The Argosy — page 242: what you’re looking at

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

My Saturdays. 225 five years old. I opened the window, and asked him—very unne- cessarily—what he wanted. “Please, lady, gi? me a copper,” he said, with the whine of a born and trained beggar. Lena had followed me to the window, and before I could say anything, the child looked up in her face, and said in a more natural tone: *“7’m so cold!” In amoment she had pushed past me, and had taken his little purple hands in hers. “So he is, poor little fellow; he’s frozen, and soaked with the rain. Oh, Mrs. Singleton, mayn’t I bring him in and warm him ?” I hope I shall be forgiven if I hesitated for one minute, when I thought of Susan. Susan is an excellent cook, and a good-hearted woman, but she can be so unpleasant when she is in a temper! And probably the child’s mother was a thief, just waiting round the corner for a chance to get into the house. ‘Where is your mother, my child?” I asked. * Don’t know,” he said, pitifully. ‘“‘?m socold.” And just then he began to cough violently. Lena waited for no permission. She gathered the dirty little creature up in her arms, and carried him straight through the drawing-room, and into the kitchen. ‘There she sat down with him before the fire, petting and soothing him until the coughing-fit was over. I followed, and made explanations to the astonished servants. Fortunately, Susan’s good heart was uppermost this evening ; and, indeed, the thin, chilled little lHmbs and swollen hands and feet would have moved the hardest to pity. Charlotte Stamwood had come in with me, and I turned to her for counsel, as she was well accustomed to poor children. All her nonsense was gone in a minute, and she was strictly practical. ** He looks very ill,” she said ; “‘and every minute he sits in those wet clothes is making him worse. You'd better take them off, and give him a hot bath at once, and Ill run home and fetch some things for him. ‘There was a parcel of children’s old clothes sent us yesterday, for giving away, and some of them will be sure to fit him. You can wrap him up in a blanket till I come back. Then he can be taken to the infirmary.” And she departed without delay. It was rather dismaying. A dirty little beggar, with not a rag on him that was fit to be touched with a pair of tongs, to be bathed and dressed! I thought myself a fairly charitable woman, as people go, but I own that I did not know how to set about this piece of work. ‘‘ Please let me see to him,” said Lena. ‘ You have all those people to attend to, and Susan will help me to make him warm and comfortable.” Accordingly I returned to my guests, who were a good deal amazed at Miss Graham’s sudden burst of Quixotic benevolence. “Not in the least /zke her, you know,” said Mrs. Minton. “I VOL. XNXV. Q Conniclooolkks (GO