“A little, darling,” the mother would answer, as she smoothed the golden hair that fell over her black gown.
Then the child would turn back to the window to watch the flight of birds, the purple islands of cypress, and the shadows sailing over the billowy grasses of the floating prairies. And so the train sped on and on, and the morning was verging to noon, when suddenly she turned with eyes full of delight, and said to her mother, whose head had drooped into her open palms:
“Look, mama! Oh, look at the lovely river! See what big trees, and pretty houses, and there is a big boat coming, and lots and lots of lambs are playing in the field. Oh, I wish we could stop here, and walk about a little! Can’t we, mama?”
“No, my dear; there’s no time to get off,” replied the mother, raising her hand and looking out wearily. “Be patient, darling; we shall soon be in New Orleans, and there you shall have everything you wish.”
The train had stopped at a small station on the Teche to take on a passenger, who entered with a brisk step, and slipped into a seat just vacated opposite the mother and child. He was a handsome lad of about sixteen years. His merry brown eyes looked out frankly from under his dark brows; he had a pleasant smile, and the manly, self-reliant air of one accustomed to travel alone.
In one hand he carried a traveling-bag, and in the other a small basket, over which a piece of thin cloth was tightly tied. He sat down, glancing around him with a bright smile, and placing the basket beside him, tapped on the thin cover with his forefinger, and chirruped merrily to the occupant. Presently an answering “Peep—peep!” came from the depths of the basket, at which he laughed heartily.
From the first moment that the new passenger entered the car, the little yellow head of the child was turned in his direction, and the deep blue eyes were fixed on him with an expression of serious interest.
When he laughed so merrily, her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears, and overcome with some emotion that she vainly tried to suppress, she buried her face on her mother’s shoulder and whispered brokenly:
“Oh, mama, mama, he laughs as papa used to.”
“Hush, hush, my darling!” said the mother, bending an agonized face over the child, while she soothed her gently; “Don’t cry, my love, don’t cry, or I shall be ill again.”