A Little Girl in Old New York

by Amanda M. Douglas

In that far-back time an accordeon really was considered worth one's while. A piano was quite an extravagance. A good player could evoke real music out of it, and at that period it had not been handed over to the saloons. In fact, saloons were not in fashion.

The children listened enchanted. It was a great thing to know any one in such a store. Mrs. Dean promised to take them all down.

Hanny had a new source of interest. Dr. Joe had told her a very moving story when he was up to tea on Sunday evening, about a little girl who had been two months in the hospital and who had just come home for good now, who lived only a little way below them. It was Daisy Jasper, whom they had seen a little while last summer in a wheeling chair, and who had disappeared before any one's curiosity could be satisfied. She was an only child, and her parents were very comfortably well off. When Daisy was about six years old, a fine, healthy, and beautiful little girl, she had trodden on a spool dropped by a careless hand and fallen down a long flight of stairs. Beside a broken arm and some bruises she did not seem seriously injured. But after a while she began to complain of her back and her hip, and presently the sad knowledge dawned upon them that their lovely child was likely to be a cripple. Various experiments were tried until she became so delicate her life appeared endangered. Mr. Jasper had been attracted to this pretty row of houses standing back from the street with the flower gardens in front. It seemed secluded yet not lonely. She grew so feeble, however, that the doctors had recommended Sulphur Springs in Virginia, and thither they had taken her. When the cool weather came on they had gone farther south and spent the winter in Florida. She had improved and gained sufficient strength, the doctors thought, to endure an operation. It had been painful and tedious, but she had borne it all so patiently. Dr. Mott and Dr. Francis had done their best, but she would always be a little deformed. The prospect was that some day she might walk without a crutch. Joe had seen a good deal of her, and at one visit he had told her of his little sister who was just her age, as their birthdays were in May.

Hanny had cried over the sorrowful tale. She thought of her early story heroine, "Little Blind Lucy," whose sight had been so marvellously restored. But Daisy could never be quite restored to straightness.

After supper Joe had taken her down to call on Daisy. Oh, how pretty the gardens were, a beautiful spot of greenery and bloom, such a change from the pavements! A narrow brick walk ran up to the house, edged with rows of dahlias just coming into bloom. On the other side there were circles and triangles and diamond-shaped beds with borders of small flowers, or an entire bed of heliotrope or verbena. The very air was fragrant. Up near the house was a kind of pavilion with a tent covering to shield one from the sun.

Daisy, with her mother and aunt, were sitting out here when Dr. Joe brought his little sister. Daisy's chair was so arranged that the back could be adjusted to any angle. It was of bamboo and cane with a soft blanket thrown over it, a pretty rose color that lighted up the pale little girl whose languor was still perceptible.

After a little Mrs. Jasper took Dr. Joe into the house, as she wanted to question him. Then Hanny and Daisy grew more confidential. Daisy asked about the children in the neighborhood and thought she would like to see Nora and Pussy Gray. She was very fond of cats, but theirs, a very good mouser, was bad-tempered and wanted no petting. And then the Dean girls and Flossy and Elsie Hay, and last but not least of all, Charles Reed with his beautiful voice.

"I do so dearly love music," said Daisy longingly. "Auntie plays but she doesn't sing. Mamma knows a good many old-fashioned songs that are lovely. When I am tired and nervous she sings to me. I don't suppose I can ever learn to play for myself," she ended sadly.

Hanny told her she was learning and could play "Mary to the Saviour's Tomb" for her father. And there were the boys and Stephen and her lovely married sister Dolly and her own sister Margaret.

"Oh, how happy you must be!" cried Daisy. "I should like such a lot of people. I never had any brothers or sisters, and I do get so lonesome. And the doctor is so pleasant and sweet; you must love him a great deal."