“In the north it is used as a name by itself,” replied Mrs Chelwood; “many of the children there are christened Betty, and so was this little girl, though she was very seldom called so.”
“Why?” asked Mary.
“Because the people in the village had given her a nickname. They called her ‘Little Clogs.’”
“What a frightful name to give her!” said Agatha. “What did they do it for?”
“Because she was so proud of a tiny pair of shoes which someone had made for her. They were exactly like that one Mary gave Jackie, and they are properly called ‘clogs.’”
“They’re not a bit like the clogs Mrs Moser, the charwoman, wears,” said Agatha.
“If you interrupt me so often I shall never finish my story,” said her mother. “Well, this poor mother couldn’t take her child with her into the factory, so she used to leave her with a friend close by, and fetch her after her work. But one evening when she went as usual there was no baby to be found—she was gone!”
“Where?” said Mary.
“No one knew. She had been stolen away, or lost, and on the door-step, where she had been playing, there was one little clog left.”
“Who had stolen her?” asked Mary anxiously.