Basket of Strawberries for the Burnt Child.—Page [91].
‘Thank you, grandmamma; that is a nice story. How glad that poor woman must have been to find her little child nearly well!’
Now they were quite close to their own house, their own dog came running to them, and jumped up at them, and nearly threw little Beatrice down, which made her laugh, and she said, ‘Down, Wolf, down. Grandmamma, Wolf will kiss me, he has licked my face.’
‘And he has licked mine too,’ said her sister.
Wolf ran on in front, and then turned back to the children, and played with them and jumped round them, and they had already forgotten their disappointment about the strawberries.
When they were in the house again, they both tried to be very good and obedient, and they were very attentive to everything their grandmamma said to them.
In the afternoon they were very happy gathering the strawberries for the poor little burnt child, and each of them had a very pretty little basket; and the gardener showed them how to put strawberry leaves into their baskets first, and then to put the ripe strawberries upon the leaves till the baskets were nearly full. Then they gathered some more leaves to cover over the strawberries. Alice and Beatrice ran back to the house and showed their baskets to their grandmamma, and lifted the leaves a little that she might see the strawberries. She told them that they were good children, and that she would go with them to Mrs. Dunne’s cottage, as she wished to see how the poor little child was. They found little Betsy sitting up on her mother’s bed, looking very happy.
‘I return you many thanks, ma’am, for the nice broth you sent Betsy, and for the milk. She has just finished eating her broth, for she fell asleep soon after you went away this morning, and her leg does not seem to hurt her now.’
‘I am very glad to hear it,’ said the lady; ‘but you must leave the cotton-wool on her leg and foot for a few days, and then I expect that the skin will be quite well again.’
‘Look, Betsy!’ cried Beatrice, ‘look at these strawberries!’ And Alice and Beatrice held their baskets to the little child, who lifted up the leaves and called out with joy, ‘Strawberries, mammy, pretty strawberries!’