“What’s the matter?” she asked.
The policeman grinned knowingly. “Now, you know very well,” he replied, “that children in Illusia are not allowed to go to sleep till midnight.”
Maida rubbed her eyes sleepily, and rose to her feet. She said to herself, “I used to complain at home when they made me go to bed at dark. Oh, dear! if I could only go to sleep.” She ran after the policeman, who by this time was walking on, and said to him, “If you please, sir, how long is it till midnight?”
The policeman looked at her astonished. “You must be a very ignorant little girl,” he said. “This is New Year’s Eve, which comes on the Fourth of July here in Illusia, and it won’t be midnight till half-past December.” So he strolled away.
“Only July!” said Maida, “And I can’t go to sleep till December!” She thought with regret of that little pink and white bed at home, of the soft mattress, the downy pillows, and the coverlet she used to pull up about her chin when she nestled down to rest. Well, there was no use thinking of something she couldn’t have, so she commenced to walk about again. Then she realized she was hungry, oh, very hungry! She passed a shop, over the door of which was a sign reading, “All kinds of fancy groceries.” So she went in and asked the man if she could buy something to eat.
“Certainly,” said the shop-keeper, bowing politely, “we have splendid charlotte russe.”
“Oh, no, nothing sweet,” said Maida. At this moment the shop-keeper’s clerk approached her, saying:
“Won’t you try a piece of this fine candy?”
“No, I don’t want candy,” answered Maida.
“Ah, I know,” said the shopkeeper, smiling, “I know what you want. We have some delicious ice-cream, just in.”