Rogues and Vagabonds

by George R. Sims

Left alone almost from babyhood with the animals and the birds, she had grown to love them and look upon them as her playmates. Into their ears she poured her troubles. It was her task to feed them all, and give them their water, and never was handmaiden more faithful to her duties.

It shocked her terribly that the parrot should swear. Grandfather she expected it from, but that this wicked, depraved bird should come to pollute the atmosphere was too bad.

She used to put her hands over Lion’s ears, so that he shouldn’t understand. She blushed sometimes when she was alone with her pets to think that Lion should be in the room with her when such language was going on.

How Gertie came to be so clean and pure, and to have so much modesty and good sense, amid such surroundings, was a mystery to everybody but Gertie herself and one other person.

That person was a lady who came in the day time, often when the old man was out. She came first with the police to look for a stolen dog, and Gertie’s sweet face and gentle manner struck her.

She was a woman of the world, and guessed that any open offer of sympathy would be resented by the child’s guardian. So she found out when Gertie was alone, and came to see her. She was a good customer, for she bought canaries, and white mice, and guinea-pigs; but really she came to see Gertie and to rescue her from the contamination around.

Miss Adrian, Gertie’s protectress, found out what times her protégée was most likely to be alone, and she made various excuses to visit her, and taught her to read and write unknown to the grandfather.

She taught the child more than this. She gradually imparted to her the outlines of the beautiful Christian faith, and under her fostering care the little wild, uncultivated bud blossomed into a sweet and delicate flower.

Seeing his granddaughter in a clean face, and finding her always tidy and civil, and loth to go into the street and play with the other children, old Heckett had been surprised at first, but he had put it down to the contrariness of the female nature, and had not troubled himself to inquire further into the matter. Once when he was asked how it was Gertie was always so clean and tidy and good, he had growled out something about breed, and had hinted darkly that Gertie’s father must have been a gentleman.

This observation points to the fact that Gertie’s birth was shrouded in some slight mystery. What that mystery was the reader will learn in due course. She was old Heckett’s granddaughter; of that there was not the slightest doubt.