Little Miss Oddity

by Amy Ella Blanchard

Mrs. Law shook her head.

“That was very kind, I am sure, but I could not think of troubling a stranger. No doubt the boy might think his father would be interested, but that was only his idea, and I couldn’t think of calling on Mr. Dallas upon such an invitation. I suppose the gentleman is Mr. Dallas, and Rock Hardy is his stepson.”

“Yes, he is, and I think Mr. Dallas must be very nice, for Rock is so fond of him.” Cassy looked disappointed that her mother had not been willing to go right off to see Mr. Dallas. She had dreamed that great things would come of it, and now her hopes were blasted. But it did not take from the memory of the day’s pleasure, and she went about the room, setting the table for supper, and attending to her little duties, singing softly.

There was not much in the room; a few cheap chairs, one a large rocker, a table covered with a red cloth, a kitchen safe and a small cook-stove; the windows were hung with cheap white curtains, but the floor was bare of carpet, though it had been stained. The house was an old one, and was let out in rooms to tenants who could afford only a small rent, consequently the neighborhood was now none of the best. There was an ill smell of cooking in the halls, and the sound of a constant banging of doors, and the shuffle of heavy feet on the bare stairs could always be heard.

The top floor Mrs. Law thought by far the most desirable, although it was the cheapest, and with her children near her, away from the confusion and noise below, she felt that it was as much of a home as she could hope for.

“Every Now and Then Flora was Carried Over and Shown the Geranium”

It was hard to keep sturdy Jerry from mixing with the neighborhood boys, but though he had learned many of their rough ways and much of their speech, he was not without good principles, and was careful not to bring the language of the street into his home. His faults were not such as came from an evil heart, and his love for his mother and sister would cause any one to forgive him many mistakes.

Cassy was such a mother-child that she shrank from the children in the house, and when she was at home from school rarely played with them. She would rather stay with her mother. Her principal playmate was a battered doll, which she had owned since she was a baby. It was the last gift from her father, and she prized it above all her possessions.

The next afternoon she established herself in a corner with her doll, Flora, and carried on a long whispered conversation with her. Every now and then Flora was carried over and shown the geranium, and made to peer into the box which held the morning-glory seeds. At last the daylight waned and Mrs. Law moved nearer the window.