"
Then a yew-tree spoke.
"You are right, little linum-flower; my relations in the graveyard have
told me as much. They hear what the dead say at midnight. It is those
who wait who get the truest joy!"
Then the miller heard a voice which was not like the others. It was a
baby-voice with tears in it. "I is hungry," it said; and Tom started
up, his eyes wide open, and in the star-glimmer he saw a tiny child
looking at him. Yes, he was awake, and the child was a real child.
"I comed in here," said the little one, "betause the gate was open."
The miller took the little one in his arms and kissed it.
"So you are hungry," he said caressingly. "Well, I must take you home.
What is your name?"
"Dot," said the child; "and home is goned away on wheels, and uncle
don't want me no more."
"Uncle," repeated Tom reflectively. "Then have you no mother or
father, little one?"
"Never had none of these things," said Dot positively. "Some of the
other children had, though," she added, as if for the sake of accuracy.
"What other children?" Tom asked with interest.
"Them as was with us in the van," said Dot.
"Did you live in a van, Dot?" inquired Tom.
"Yes," said the child, "the van as has runned away. There's baskets
and chairs and things all over the top of it. Uncle said he was agoing
to leave me somewhere, and now he's done it."
"How old are you, Dot?"
The child shook her head. "I didn't have no birfdays," she said
wistfully.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25