Two little girls were holding their clasped hands up as high as they could stretch. A small procession passed, each girl holding to the skirt of the other, and singing:—
“Open the gates as high as the sky,
And let King George and his men go by.
Needle’s eye as I pass by,
Awaiting to go through;
Many a lass I have let pass,
And now I have caught you.”
Down came the arms of the “gates” over the head of the girl just under them. There was a shriek and a giggle. Then the one who was caught had to be a “gate,” and so it went on.
Dil looked, fascinated with a kind of remembered terror. It seemed as if she must have heard that in another world, it was so long, long ago. Before Bess was “hurted,” when Dan was a chubby baby, she had them both out, caring for them. At least, Dan was in the corner of the stoop, and Bess was tossing a ball for his amusement. A group of girls were playing this very game. The arms came down and took Dilsey Quinn prisoner, and all laughed because she had been so quick to evade them.
Something else—her mother’s heavy hand that dragged Dil out of the ring. The girls scattered, afraid of the tall, strong virago. Dil picked up the baby and took Bess by the hand. They were not living in Barker’s Court then. She shuddered, for she knew what awaited her. She should have been in the house, getting supper, to be sure. She had not meant to play so long, and even then she so seldom played.
Poor Dil! For a fortnight or so she carried the marks on her body.
“I’ll tache ye to be wastin’ of yer time foolin’ wid sich,” said her mother.
Then Bess was “hurted,” and her mother ill in bed for weeks. They were warned out of the house, and for some time it was hard lines for them all. Dil never played any more. Childhood was at an end for her.
And when she heard the merry voices here, a cold, terrible shiver came over her with the old memories. Was it softened by the thought that Bess could run about then? But even little Bess had sometimes been cruelly beaten. After that—was there a strange comfort that had never come before, that Bess’s accident had saved her many an unreasonable punishment? For Mrs. Quinn had let the poor little sufferer pretty much alone. Dil had managed to stand between, and take the blows and ill usage.
Does God note all the vicarious suffering in the world, and write it in the book of remembrance?