“I say, do you think it’s got any mamma, granny?” she asked.
“Did have, most likely, but reckon her ma wa’n’t good for much,” was the reply, while the baby, amused by Midget, began to laugh.
“I shouldn’t have thought any mother would chuck her baby behind a barrel,” said Midget, thoughtfully. Then she began to plead with her grandmother that it might be allowed to stay with them, promising such wonderful things, and such care of it, that granny, who loved babies, and didn’t really know but what a reward might be offered for the child, at last yielded, and promised to keep it at least a few days. And Midget, delighted beyond measure, seemed to feel two years older as she rocked the little stranger to sleep, and laid it in her own little straw bed. “I was a stranger and ye took me in,” kept somehow repeating itself in granny’s mind all that day. She had read it in her Bible long ago, and had heard it from the pulpit once, but never before had it come back so forcibly as to-day. “Well! well! The Lord will provide, I dare say. And goodness knows, if he don’t, the child will starve along with Midget and her old granny.”
No advertisement appeared in reference to the lost baby, and at the end of a week the little one had grown so dear to the two who had taken her in, that granny decided to keep her “a little longer.”
But what had come over Midget? The frowsy head began to look smooth as the clustering curls would permit, the little, active body, always bent upon mischief, had busied itself in new ways, and began to look tidy and neat as the unavoidable rags would allow. Hands and face were clean as soap and water could make them, and Midget actually kept her boots laced since baby’s advent into the family. Granny also noticed that Midget grumbled less at having to go out in the early dawn for sticks,—in fact, the grumbling in course of time ceased altogether; for Midget was bent upon fattening the baby and making it grow. And how could a baby grow fat unless she kept it nice and warm, and gave it plenty of food? Granny’s cup of tea would not do for baby, but Midget drank cold water most of the time, and baby had the blue milk all to her hungry, healthy little self.
By-and-by, after the little one had been in her new home about three weeks, and all the children had kissed it and admired it to their hearts’ content, and all the old crones of the neighborhood had speculated as to how granny would be able to provide for it, Midget found pleasant work to do in selling cut flowers on the street for a florist near by. Such an important little Midget had never before been heard of in that neighborhood, and it was wonderful how long it had been since granny had found it necessary to punish her. No more saucy words, or frowns on the child-face, because there was baby always watching her little Midget-mamma with wide eyes, and once, just once, Midget saw the baby kick out its tiny foot just as she had naughtily kicked a little playmate who ventured to provoke her anger. And as Midget was determined her baby should excel all others, of course she was careful of her influence. Then, too, she continued to be neat and tidy, lest the baby might turn her sweet face away when a kiss was wanted, and that would almost have broken Midget’s heart.
The mornings were daily growing colder, and our little girl’s shawl grew no thicker or warmer, sad to say, as she started early each day for the flower-stand on Broadway. But Midget kept up a brave heart, and was glad for the little custom she found. How closely she stuck to business, and how patiently she looked forward to the hour when, released from duty, she would scamper home for a frolic with baby, we have neither time nor space to describe minutely, but we may say that with this new happiness in her heart, and with the importance of taking good care of her baby constantly in her mind, no wonder our little Midget grew gentle and good, and found the sunshine oftener than she used to.
“Midget and her Baby.”
And all this time the wee stranger grew pretty and strong, and granny began to fear lest somebody should claim this bright treasure, which made the old cellar so happy a place, despite its scanty furniture and lack of home comfort. But nobody came for it, and finally the winter had slipped by and spring made its appearance.