It was Judge Bellow's big, fine house, that stood on the corner by the
park. Every body knew that, but every body did _not_ know that the one
little girl who lived in that house was restless and unhappy and often
cross.
"Why do you roam about so, Nell? Why don't you settle down to
something?" her mother asked, one bright, spring day.
"Oh, I am sick of everything. I have read all my books, and I hate my
piano. The croquet isn't up, and there is nobody to play with me, if
it was."
"Why don't you find some kind of work to do?"
"That is just the trouble. There's nothing that needs to be done;
servants for every thing; and what does crocheting amount to, and
plastering some little daubs of paint on some plush! Why, I believe
that little Dutch girl that sells things out of her big basket, on our
corner, every morning, is a good deal happier than I am. I mean to ask
her sometime what makes her so."
* * * * *
A few weeks more and the hot summer came on, and Nell missed the
little Dutch girl on the corner. It really worried her that the
bright, womanly face did not come any more, but she supposed she had
moved to a better stand or perhaps left the city.
One morning Nell took a walk with her teacher; a long walk, for they
found themselves outside the city, where there were open holds and
every house had green grass and trees close around it.
"What a little, _little_ house! That one with the woodbine all over
it--and I do believe--yes, it really _is_ my little Dutch girl
scrubbing the steps," and away she bounded and was soon beside the
little worker.
"Oh! I'm so glad to find you again! Why don't you come to our corner
any more?"
"Baby's been sick a long, good time," explained Lena, wiping her hands
on her apron. "Won't you ladies please to walk in, if you please,
ma'am?"
It was a queer little figure that showed them into the cool, clean
room; short and broad and dumpy. Her shoes were coarse, her dress of
faded black, with a white kerchief at the neck, so like an old woman.
Her face too, was short and broad; her nose was _very_ short and her
eyes very narrow. So you see she was not pretty, but her face was all
love and sunshine. She sat down on a low stool and took up the baby in
such a dear, motherly way, smoothing its hair and dress and kissing it
softly.
"You don't mean that you live here all alone?" asked Nell.
"Oh, no; there is Hans and baby and me, and there is old Mrs. Price in
the other part."
"But your father and mother?"
"Mother died a year ago. Oh, she was one such good mother, but baby
came in her place. Baby looks like mother, and now I have to be her
little mother, you see," and she set the little dumpling out upon her
knee, with such pride and tenderness.
"And your father?"
The little Dutch girl dropped her head and answered very low, "Father
has been gone a long time. They say he is shut up somewhere. He don't
come home any more."
"Oh, how very dreadful! I don't see where you get money to buy things
with."
"Hans is fifteen and works in a shop. He gets some money, and he will
get a good deal, by-and-by. The rest _I_ get from the flowers. You see
I raise them myself, mostly."
"But do you get enough for clothes and playthings, and do you always
have enough to eat?" persisted Nell.
"_I_ don't have any clothes, I make over mother's. We have Kitty for
playthings. Enough to eat? _Baby_ always has enough, don't she,
lovie?" cuddling her up close.
A new world was opening up to Nell.
"Excuse me, but don't you have any pleasure trips, or birthday
parties, or Christmas?"
"No; I don't just know what those things are, but we have nice beef
and apples for dinner on Christmas."
"And are you always happy as you seem--really happy?"
The "little mother" opened her eyes wide in wonder. "Why, _of course_.
What else should we be? Mother always told us it was wicked to be
cross, and that we must not fret much, even over her going away to
heaven."
Nell did some hard thinking on her way home, and being a sensible
little girl, she made up her mind that one way to be happy is to be
_busy_, and not only busy, but useful, and she set about the new way
in earnest.
She learned that it is possible to be unselfish and happy _any where_;
she in her wealthy home, and the "little mother" in her one room, with
her baby and her flowers.