Some Little People.

by George Kringle.

CHAPTER I.

'Lisbeth Lillibun lived a hundred miles from London. If she had not lived a hundred miles from London, it is likely you would never have heard of her. She would have liked it better had somebody else lived where she did instead of herself. 'Lisbeth was a very little girl when she found out that she lived a hundred miles from London. So was d.i.c.kon, her brother, very little when he found it out, but he did not care so much about it; indeed I think he did not care at all.

'Lisbeth always remembered the day upon which she found it out. She could not quite count a hundred herself at the time; she could count ten, but had not learned to count a hundred. She had heard Gorham count a hundred, and knew that it was a great many more than ten. She thought that ten was a great many. She knew that ten miles must be a great way; she had several times walked a mile. She had walked a mile the day she discovered that it was a hundred miles to London. A hundred miles, she knew, was a very great way.

'Lisbeth had concluded that she would like to live in London; that she would live in London; that London was the only proper place for any body to live. This was why she did not like to discover that London was a hundred miles away. But how she came to know anything about London, or to think it was the only proper place to live, I shall not pretend to say.

She had gone a long way from home, that day, with d.i.c.kon; as I said, she had gone a mile. It was a pleasant mile, straight across the fields, but they should not have gone so far. Mother was at the mill; Gorham had gone to school; Trotty was asleep. d.i.c.kon and 'Lisbeth wanted to do something, or see something, so they wandered over the fields for a mile. If they had not gone so far, 'Lisbeth would not have heard about the distance to London; she would have been more happy had she not gone so far; she would not have heard the men, with the packs on their backs, reading the mile-stone. She should not have gone so far from home; we generally come to some grief when we do something which is not quite right. 'Lisbeth did.

d.i.c.kon wished to show her the flowers blooming by the way; he wished to show her the bees buzzing in the flowers; he wished to show her the bird warbling on the post, but she was looking at the two men with the packs on their backs; she was looking at them plodding along the way. They grew smaller and smaller to her eyes. They became but specks. They disappeared.

She thought she would see them again in London. She would ask them how they got there, and how they liked it. So d.i.c.kon watched the bees, a long while, by himself, and looked at the pretty flower-hearts; and the bird warbled on the post, but 'Lisbeth knew not a thing about it.

Everything looked more happy than 'Lisbeth; the gra.s.s that grew under foot, and the contented little weeds that nodded and dozed in the sun, and the flowers that hung just where they grew, with the most comfortable little faces, and the bird that warbled on the post.

Indeed, as to the bird, it might have been thought that he did not admire 'Lisbeth's serious face, that he was too happy himself to be looking at any one who was not as happy as he was, for, though at first, with head turned toward her, he ruffled his throat, and swayed from side to side as he sung and sung, he suddenly grew mute, eyed 'Lisbeth with one eye and then with the other, and like a bird who had made up his mind, turned his back upon her, still standing on the post, and lifted his head, and ruffled his throat, and filled the air with his sweet notes, without so much as turning an eye toward 'Lisbeth as she stood.

Everything looked more comfortable than 'Lisbeth. Do you know why 'Lisbeth did not look comfortable? If you cannot think why it was to-day, perhaps you may be able to do so to-morrow. If you cannot think why it was this morning, perhaps you may be able to do so by this evening. Indeed, I think you will know without waiting to think a minute.

d.i.c.kon filled her hands with flowers--they were such sweet flowers, with such pretty tender faces; every one had something on its lips to say as it looked up. Did you ever guess what the flowers were trying to say loud enough for you to hear? I think they all say something to us; some of us cannot hear what they say, some of us cannot guess what they say.

The flowers looked brightly up at 'Lisbeth; they did not look discontented, even though they were broken; they did not complain as she carried them away; they did not even turn to look reproachfully at d.i.c.kon who had broken them from their stems. They were very bright flowers.

'Lisbeth wished many times to know if d.i.c.kon thought the men with the packs had reached London. She asked him so many times, that at length he laughed quite aloud, and yet she knew well enough that the men had to walk a hundred miles; she and d.i.c.kon had walked but one. So she laughed too, when d.i.c.kon laughed, and they both began chasing the b.u.t.terflies that waved their beautiful wings over the field, their wings beautiful as the faces of the flowers; the wings which changed colors as they fanned them in the sun; the pretty wings which changed color every moment and which shone like flower petals sprinkled with gold.

When they were tired of chasing b.u.t.terflies they remembered that Trotty might be awake; that Gorham might have come home; that mother might have come from the mill, and have been looking for them; so they began chasing each other instead of chasing the b.u.t.terflies, and it seemed to be much the best thing to do, for as they chased each other they came nearer to the door at home. Indeed they should have thought of this before, for as they came bounding around the house, startling the swallows under the eaves, Trotty was tumbling from the cradle, and mother was hastening toward the door.

CHAPTER II.

'Lisbeth did not forget that it was a hundred miles to London; she never forgot it. She did not forget the two men with the packs on their backs.

At the same time she could not forget that a hundred was a great many.

'Lisbeth told her mother that they could all put packs on their backs and go to London, that she wanted to live in London; but her mother only laughed, she did not want to go to London to live at that time; she did not want to walk a hundred miles with a pack on her back.

After this 'Lisbeth felt very much discouraged; she had believed that everybody would like to live in London; she did not know how to manage.

If 'Lisbeth had been more like the flowers she would have been contented to grow just where she found herself; but she was not like the flowers; she was not like them at all. She thought a great deal about getting to London. I am not sure that 'Lisbeth thought enough about it to find out how she would like getting to London if mother did not go along; that is a part which I am almost sure that 'Lisbeth did not think about, but she was very determined about getting there.

She invited Gorham to go with her, but Gorham knew better than to try to do that; he knew that London was a great way off; that he could not go unless mother went too; he knew that 'Lisbeth was very silly indeed. But 'Lisbeth did not believe Gorham when he told her all this; she had an opinion of her own. She and d.i.c.kon used to play "going to London" every day, but this did not suit 'Lisbeth.

There were five mothers who went to the mill every day. 'Lisbeth concluded to ask the little boys and girls belonging to these mothers to go to London with her. Then she concluded she would only ask the boys; boys would not get frightened and run away; they would not let anybody pick her up and put her in a bag; d.i.c.kon was a boy; she knew all about boys; she was afraid the girls would get put in bags. She told the girls they should not go. She stamped her foot at them; they should not go.

Indeed I do not believe they wanted to go, but the boys did; they liked it. They all concluded to start at once.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

There were seven of them beside d.i.c.kon. d.i.c.kon carried a basket, as well as a stick with a rag upon it which they called a flag. 'Lisbeth carried a flag too and walked in front. n.o.body was ever so proud in starting for London; n.o.body was ever so well pleased, or so little afraid of what might happen on the way, nor at the end of the way, nor at the end of the whole affair. n.o.body who thought so much of going to London, ever forgot so entirely to think about what was to be done when they got there; what was to be done for a supper, for a penny, for a roof, for a bed, for a second dress or pair of trousers, for a mother! n.o.body remembered anything but that they were on the way to London.

They went a mile. They went across the fields, between clover tops and sweet gra.s.ses, and flowers with pleasant faces; they marched, and then forgot to march. 'Lisbeth knew the way to the mile-stone, she knew which way the men had turned when they came to the forked road beyond. She remembered watching them out of sight. 'Lisbeth was sure she knew the way to London. They went beyond the forks of the road; they went a great way. The little boys began to find out that they had gone a great way.

They began to look back for the church steeple, but it was gone; they began to look back for the mill; but there was none. They began to be afraid. 'Lisbeth was not afraid. She did not expect to see the church steeple. She did not expect to see the mill; she did not want to see them. She did want to see London.

'Lisbeth looked so happy that the little boys forgot to march, and all drew up closer, and closer to 'Lisbeth; they were sure she must have something to be happy about. n.o.body liked to say he did not feel happy, yet n.o.body was happy but 'Lisbeth. All these boys usually were very happy, can you tell me why they did not feel happy now? d.i.c.kon was the first to find out that everybody was keeping very close to 'Lisbeth; that n.o.body looked pleased but 'Lisbeth.

"It's a dreadful way to London," said d.i.c.kon.

"I s'pose it is, d.i.c.kon; but don't be 'scouraged," said 'Lisbeth, striding on faster and faster. If she had seen a church spire ahead she would have believed she saw a London spire.

"S'pose we don't go to London," said d.i.c.kon, coming to a halt.

"Well, s'pose we don't!" said almost all the voices, some high and some low; but 'Lisbeth almost gasped, "We will! we must! We've gone a dreadful way, we cannot go back any more."

But the little boys were bigger than 'Lisbeth; they knew now that she had made a mistake; they thought she might make a mistake about getting to London; they began to think they had made a mistake themselves.

'Lisbeth stood stamping in the road; she stood stamping and crying as hard as she could, but even d.i.c.kon began running toward the mile-stone, and what could she do but turn around and run too? She could do nothing else. She ran as fast as her feet would take her, but her feet were tired. The boys' feet were not as tired; the most of them were bigger than hers; they were bigger and not so tired, so they ran faster.

'Lisbeth was left somewhere, I do not know where; left away off on the road carrying her flag, and trotting along at a great rate by herself.

This was what she got by taking the boys. She sighed over her mistake, and she concluded that even d.i.c.kon would not have cared had she been packed in a bag, and, indeed, it seemed he did not.

To be sure d.i.c.kon remembered her after a while, and ran as fast as he could to find her, and see that she was all safe and give her a kiss under her funny little hat to make it all right. But 'Lisbeth felt herself hurt beyond measure, as well she might; only, if people will make mistakes they must take the consequences. If people will choose the boys when they should choose the girls, what can they expect; and if they will want to grow in London instead of wanting to grow where G.o.d put them, what can they expect? If we want to be very comfortable we must be contented where we find ourselves.

CHAPTER III.

The boys did not run very, very long before they saw the mill, and the steeple; they chased along the path in high glee after that, and did a great many things beside chasing along the path. But they all got home so long before the mothers came from the mill, that the mothers never knew that they had ever started for London until they were told. You may be sure they were glad that their boys had at length remembered what a naughty, foolish thing they were doing.

But how the girls laughed! You may well know that the girls were pleased enough to see the boys come back. They laughed because the boys had been silly enough to start, and they laughed because they pretended to be amused at their coming back after they had started, but you and I know that they were glad enough that they did come back.

As to 'Lisbeth, she held her head very high when the girls met her. She did not like being laughed at. They asked her a great many questions about London, and asked her why she did not stay, and how she liked the boys for company. It was very trying. Anybody but 'Lisbeth would have cried, or flown in a pa.s.sion, but 'Lisbeth did not do either. So then the girls stopped laughing at her, and talked of something else.

'Lisbeth would not talk of anything else. She was not contented enough in the place where she grew to talk of anything else yet. She believed the girls would have done better than the boys; that she had made a mistake.

Everybody liked 'Lisbeth. She was not always doing naughty, foolish things like going to London, so the girls were ready to listen to her.

She told them how the boys had behaved, and what she thought of them, and how determined she was to go to London, and how she believed that the girls would have behaved better, and invited them to start with her the very next day; and if there ever was a silly little girl in all the world, it was 'Lisbeth.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The girls talked to their mothers that night about 'Lisbeth's invitation, which was just the proper thing to do. The mothers were sorry that 'Lisbeth was not better contented in the place where she found herself; they were so sorry that they concluded to try to make her better contented, so they told the big girls that they might go, but the very little ones must stay at home. A couple of little ones stole away with the rest and came to great trouble afterward, but the larger girls went with 'Lisbeth.

'Lisbeth was delighted the next day when the girls said that they would go; she had been thinking so much about it that she was unhappy.