“Come, don’t be looking back so eagerly,” said the officer, “you won’t find anything more that you can get your little brown hands on; you can’t steal the gentleman’s diamond pin if you do look so sharp at it.”
The black eyes flashed indignantly and the long purple-black braid which hung down her back shook as she 3 raised her eyes to the officer’s face, giving her head a proud toss, and with the sauciest pucker of the small red mouth and a scornful ring in her voice, she said:
“I didn’t know he had a diamond pin. I was only looking at his face; it looks so kind, I’m sure I couldn’t steal that, but yours don’t look kind. I guess you like to punish little girls; you look like a great cross bear.”
“Take care, I’ll let you know what I am. I don’t have any notion of being kind to such little imps as you are. There’s a way to take care of little burglars.”
“I ain’t a burglar. I’m just as good as you are, if I am poor. I’d rather steal than be so ugly to little girls.”
They had now reached the sidewalk, where they were met by June Wilmer, a young girl of just ten years of age, who was about to enter the gate. She was rightly named, for she looked like a fresh June rose, with the pink flush on her cheeks, and her blue eyes full of innocent mirth, but the expression changed to one of pity as she looked at the little girl who was being led away like a dumb animal.
“Why, what is the matter?” she asked, “what have you done to be taken away by a policeman, you poor little girl?”
“She was trying to steal your mother’s spoons.”
“Oh, dear, that was wicked, but perhaps she did not know it was, or maybe she was hungry and wanted to sell them for something to eat.”
“Oh, miss, I wouldn’t get up any excuse for her,” said the officer, “she can do well enough at that herself. She stole the spoons, and she must be punished. 4 I’ll warrant she was not a bit hungry, was you now?” he asked, turning to the child.