THE END.
THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL.
CHAPTER I.
A LITTLE MATCH-SELLER.
She was a pathetic little figure for those who had eyes to spare for anybody so insignificant as a little street match-seller. She had been shivering just before in the chill February blast; but a dancing sunbeam had forced its way through the grey, hurrying clouds, and an answering smile seemed to light up the face of the child, as she watched it creeping nearer and nearer, till she could feel the warmth touch her bare feet like a caress.
Some boys not far off were playing marbles in the gutter, and the little girl was watching the play with great interest. She had a wholesome fear of boys, and seldom or never attempted to exchange remarks with them, shrinking away if they seemed disposed to address her; but she took a keen interest in their games for all that, and was very ardently on the side of a curly-headed urchin with carroty, unkempt locks, who was the happy possessor of a couple of very fine coloured marbles that quite put all the others into the shade.
Bright colour of any sort was the little girl’s delight. No matter whether it was the glow of the sky, the sunshine upon red chimney stacks, or the dresses of the passers-by, anything that was gaily coloured was such a joy to her that her little face would smile all over whilst the vision of colour flitted before her eyes.
It was a pathetic little face, with singularly delicate features for a child of the people; framed in a tangled mass of short, yellow hair, which if properly dressed and cared for would have been a real beauty. The blue eyes could sparkle with joy or swim in tears with equal readiness, just as the varying mood of childhood prompted. For the little one was singularly emotional for one of her hard bringing up, and was quickly moved to sorrow or pleasure by the passing events of daily life.
Just as the game of marbles came to an end, and the boys scampered away to their respective duties or amusements, a great church clock somewhere high overhead boomed out the hour of two. The little girl’s face instantly took upon it a rather eager expression, and seizing her matches in a firmer grip, she ran a few steps to a certain corner, and there stationing herself in a nook, to which she was evidently no stranger, she began looking intently and expectantly in a certain direction.
Crowds of business men were hurrying along, some to the train, others to the various omnibuses, which passed in endless succession at this busy junction of streets. The child held out her matches, and mechanically offered them for sale, but her eyes were always bent in one direction; and had anybody been watching her face, he could not have failed to note the sudden illumination which beamed out over it, as though kindled by some light from within.