“You poor little thing!” said Louise. “Come here, dear; there’s lots for you to eat.” The little girl made straight for her. Louise got out a fresh paper napkin, and piled sandwiches, loaf, cake and all on it.
“Wait a minute,” said Billy. “Is all that good for so little a girl—hadn’t you better give her one at a time?”
Louise held the veal loaf poised in air on her fork. “Will your mother let you eat this?” she asked.
THE CHILD BEGAN TO EAT EVERYTHING AT ONCE
The bedraggled small child sat down on the grass, as if the words were an invitation. She was a pretty, dirty child of perhaps five, dressed only in a soiled and ragged underwaist and petticoat, and with a mane of very long and heavy hair, all tangles and elf-locks. Her hair was yellow and her eyes big and blue, and she would have been pretty had she been cared-for looking.
“Ain’t got any mother,” she said, “just Vicky. She lets me.”
“Poor little thing!” said Louise again, and handed her the veal loaf. The child began to eat everything at once, with an eagerness which made it certain she had told the truth, at least, about being hungry.