THE STRANGERS.
But we were talking about Violet and poor Toady, who lay on the ground
all bruised and bleeding, one of his legs so broken that it dragged
along after him when he tried to hop, and one of his eyes torn out and
hanging by the skin; while the poor thing quivered all over with pain,
and looked up at Violet with his one eye, as if he would say, "_Do_ help
me, Violet. Why didn't you keep them away?"
She lifted him into the grass, smoothing it first into something like a
nest; then she poured some water from her violet cup to wash away the
dust and blood, and stroked his back gently, while Toady looked up at
her, and shut and opened his one eye, and tried to hop, which was his
way of thanking her, you know.
When she found how stiff and sore he was, Violet burst into tears again,
and wondered if the little queen in the carriage was any happier for
doing all this mischief. Let us see.
Having taken care of her pet, the little girl looked to see if the
carriage had gone; and though she was almost as blind as Toady, her eyes
were so full of tears, she knew plainly enough by the sound that it was
waiting still; for Alfred had thrown his book aside, and he and Narcissa
were talking angrily.
"You're an ugly, envious thing," said Alfred. "That poor little girl had
nothing on earth but those few flowers and a miserable toad; and you,
who have every thing you want, could not rest till you had stolen these.
If I were king, I'd send you to state's prison."
"And if you were a queen, what would _you_ do to the girl in the
carriage?" asked Narcissa's father of Violet; for the gentleman had
returned from his walk, and coming quietly behind, had been watching her
as she wept and watched over Toady, who seemed to be fast asleep.
"O, I would send her away to the end of the world, so I might never see
her again. _Do_ take her away," she pleaded.
"But she _has_ done wrong; she had no more right to hurt your toad than
you have to hurt my horses in the carriage there. Shall I not punish
her?"
"It wouldn't do me any good," said Violet, mournfully. "Tell her she may
have the flowers in welcome _now_. I don't care about them or any thing
else if Toady must die."
"And why do you care about Toady?"
"About _him_?" asked Violet, shaking away the golden hair as she looked
up wonderingly with her beautiful blue eyes,--"care about _him_? Why,
did you ever see such a handsome toad? And then I have known him so
long, and he hops about after me and lets me feed him; and now, now,
when I come here in the morning, how lonesome I shall be, for he can't
come hopping out from the grass any more, all wet with dew, and winking
his round eyes, as if he'd say, 'Good morning.'"
The gentleman laughed, and then looked very sober, as he said,--
"I can't see much beauty in your pet; but I like you, little girl, for
loving him so well; and here is money to pay for the harm my daughter
has done."
"Why," said Violet, who had never seen any coin before, "I thought money
was made to buy flour and meal with."
"So it is," replied the gentleman, "and to buy cake, and fine clothes,
and artificial flowers like those in Narcissa's bonnet."
"I shouldn't want to look like _her_. I am not a queen," said Violet,
"and I can find a great deal prettier flowers on the mountain than she
wears, and prettier-looking stones than these;" and she looked at the
silver carelessly; then, brightening up all at once, she asked,--
"Will they cure Toady's leg? O, if they will, I'll give you my flowers
and the new cup both for them."
The gentleman shook his head.
"Then take them away. I don't want any thing."