Upon questioning her, he found that the wee little maid had, by accident, knocked a small doll from one of the tables, and had been roundly scolded.
"That pretty girl with the black eyes says I did it a-purpose, but I didn't," she cried, "I wanted to see it, and I just touched it, and it tumbled off the table."
Her tears fell afresh, and in place of a handkerchief, she drew up her blue-checked apron, and hid her face in it.
"Look up, little girl," Uncle Harry said, and his voice sounded so kindly, that she at once peeped at him through her tears.
"Which is the table where all this happened?"
"That one," said the child, "and the big girl is looking at me now."
"Then give me your hand, and, just for fun, we'll go and look at her."
A moment she hesitated.
"Come," he said, and with a sunny smile, the little girl placed her hand in his, and the big, handsome man with the wee country lass approached the table together.
"I'll lift you up so you can see nicely," he said. "Now, which was the doll that fell from the table?"