Then upward reached the small, brown arms, and downward fluttered the white lids, which were raised never on earth again, not even when granny’s tears covered the round, white face, and her arms clasped close the little roly-poly figure which had suddenly grown so stiff and helpless.
Up to “that other world,” through the “sky-window,” the white-winged angel had borne little Chub; and all that had puzzled him on earth was, maybe, in his angel-mother’s arms, made clear to him at last.
LITTLE BOY BLUE
BY C. A. GOODENOW.
NOT the identical one that slept under the haystack, while the cows trampled the corn; no, indeed, he was quite too wide awake for that! Our little Boy Blue had another name; but he was seldom called by it, and did not much like it when he was. For when he heard people say “John Allison Ware!” he knew that he was in mischief, and justice was about to be meted unto him.
Why was he called little Boy Blue? Because, when he was a tiny baby, his eyes were so very blue—“real ultramarine,” Aunt Sue said; but baby only wrinkled his nose at the long word, and mamma smiled.
However, the eyes kept their wonderful color as the baby grew up, so the name was kept, too.