Little Miss Mouse

by Amy Ella Blanchard

Then little Ruth had embraced Henrietta tenderly, for she was indeed her only child and her coming had been one of Ruth's greatest joys, for though she remembered her babyhood's dolls, these were all broken and lost long before Ruth had come to Miss Hester's to live, and a forlorn rag-baby was her only plaything at the time her mother died. What had become of the rag-baby, she never had found out, for when she looked for it that sad day when the good doctor took her for a last time to the empty attic, there was no rag-baby to be seen. Possibly some even less fortunate child had found it and had treasured it. This Miss Hester told her for her comfort, but because Ruth so mourned her lost darling, that first Christmas in the big house, Henrietta was given to her.

Miss Hester had little money to spend, even then, and the doll was the first thing taken from the old chest which held the possessions of the little sister Henrietta and which was destined to furnish Ruth with many comforts and pleasures. The doll Henrietta, having been in the world some years longer than her neighbors, was rather an old-fashioned beauty. She was not of the bisque of which the more modern dolls are made, but a sort of composition and wax gave her a soft expression. Her eyes were large and beautiful and her hair long and curling. Ruth admired her beyond measure and because she was different from the rest, the girls all admired her immensely, and it was considered quite a privilege to be allowed to hold her.

On this Friday afternoon, Ruth stole a pleased glance every now and then to Henrietta sitting in silent state upon her desk. Nora's doll in silk attire she did not think near so lovely, for Violetta had an unkempt frowsy appearance. Lucia's Annabel Lee was a sweet insipid creature with very light hair and an innocent smile which showed two of her tiny teeth. She was clad in blue cashmere somewhat streaked and faded from Lucia's attempt to wash the frock for this occasion. Her efforts had not turned out well, but, as she confided to Ruth, it was clean, which was more than could be said of some costumes. Between two such representatives as Violetta and Annabel Lee, it was no wonder that Ruth viewed Henrietta with complacency.

The room was very quiet, for the girls were not allowed to talk without permission. Once in a while, there was a subdued whisper from one corner or Miss Mullins's low tones were heard as she bent over the work of some pupil. There was an odor of geraniums from the plants in the window. Sometimes, when a desk lid was raised there was a sudden spicy whiff from a hidden apple. Outside the sparrows were twittering in the vines and the rumble of wagons sounded indistinctly. It was a very quiet, orderly class indeed, thought Miss Mullins.

Suddenly from one corner came a crash, a distressed cry followed by wild sobbing. Miss Mullins looked up quickly. There was a disturbance in the direction of Ruth's seat. Miss Mullins went quickly to the scene of trouble. Crouching on the floor and holding fragments of a broken doll in her lap was Ruth wailing "She's dead! She's dead! She can never come to life again."

"You shall have mine, my Annabel Lee," Lucia was saying as she placed her own doll in Ruth's lap.

"No, no," wept Ruth, "I don't want any one but Henrietta. There was only one like her in the whole world, and she's dead, she's dead forever."

"Let me see, Ruth;" Miss Mullins bent over the weeping child. "Perhaps she can be mended."

"She can't, she can't," sobbed Ruth. "She's all broken to bits."

And indeed poor Henrietta was in a very sorry state for, though the body, legs and arms were not injured, most of the head was a total wreck.