They stopped awhile—they thought it only a few minutes—to watch some boys playing a New Year’s game, and then passed on by the stores, where the smell of the good things made them very hungry.
“Oh, how nice the loast pohk (roast pork) smell! I velly hungly,—we go home pletty soon,” said the older sister.
“Yes, we go home pletty soon,” echoed Poon Yet.
The little feet were growing tired, for they had never before been on the streets alone, and they wanted to get all the pleasure they could out of it. How they did wish they had brought some money, as they looked longingly at the great heaps of candied cocoanut and ginger on the street-stands. Their eyes must have said so, for just as they were gazing at the dainties with longing eyes a richly-dressed Chinaman came by, and the first thing they knew he was saying: “You likee candy, ne jai?” (little girl).
It startled them at first, but when they looked up and saw what a kind face the man had, they did not feel afraid, but replied: “Yes—we velly hungly—we no bling money; we catch ’em plenty money at home.”
The man laughed good-naturedly, and having bought them a large package of candy, started on. After they had eaten some of it they noticed the growing darkness. Could it be possible that night was coming on? They had not thought of that; it had seemed so bright when they started, and it did not seem as if they could have been gone long.
Meanwhile, what of the little brown mother at home?
When she finished her cake she called her children. She had made a little cake just for them, and she wanted them to come and eat it.
“Poon Chew! Poon Yet!” she called; but no sound came back through the silence.
“Little one—ne jai, come to mo chun!” No reply.