“‘Father,’ she said,—‘mother’s head aches again.’
“The cobbler paused in his work, and looked up at her.
“‘And she wants you to come up and rub it—she says I can’t do it hard enough.’
“Rather slowly Mr. Peg laid his upper leather and tools down.
“‘Will you close this shoe for me, Sue, while I am gone?’
“He spoke half pleasantly, and half, to judge by his tone and manner, with some sorrowful meaning. So the little girl took it, for she answered a little sadly,—
“‘I wish I could, father.’
“‘I’m glad you can’t, dear.’
“He laid his work down, and mounted the stairs. She went to the window, and stood with her elbows leaning on the sill, looking into the street.
“It is only a small town, that Beachhead; but still, being a sea-coast town, there is a good deal of stir about it. The fishermen from the one side, and the farmers from the other, with their various merchandise; the busy boys, and odd forms of women for ever bustling up and down, make it quite a lively place. There is always a good deal to see in the street. Yet the little girl stood very still and quiet by the window; her head did not turn this way and that; she stood like a stupid person, who did not know what was going on. A woman passing up the street stopped a moment at the window.