Little Folks Astray Part 10

"I don't see where Hollis stays to all the time," exclaimed the little one, beginning to have a faint curiosity about it.

CHAPTER VIII.

"THE FRECKLED DOG."

But just then a gentle-looking blind girl came along led by a dog. The sight was so strange that Flyaway stopped to admire; for whatever else she might be afraid of, she always loved and trusted a dog.

"Doggie, doggie," cried she, patting the little animal's head.

"O, _what_ a sweet voice," said the blind girl, putting out her hand and groping till she touched Fly's shoulder. "I never heard such a voice!"

This was what strangers often said, and Flyaway never doubted the sweetness was caused by eating so much candy; but just now she had had none for two days.

"What makes you shut your eyes up, right in the street, girl? Is the _seeingness_ all gone out of 'em?"

"Yes, you darling. I haven't had any seeingness in my eyes for a year."

"You didn't? Then you's _blind-eyed_," returned Flyaway, with perfect coolness.

"And don't you feel sorry for me--not a bit?"

"No, 'cause your dog is freckled so pretty."

"But I can't see his freckles."

"Well, he's got 'em. Little yellow ones, spattered out all over him."

"But if I had eyes like you, I shouldn't need any dog. I could go about the streets alone."

"Well, I don't like to go 'bout the streets alone; I want my own brother Hollis."

"I hope you haven't got lost, little dear?"

"No," laughed Fly, gayly; "I didn't get lost! But I don't know where n.o.body is! And there don't n.o.body know where _I_ am!"

The blind girl took Fly's little hand tenderly in hers.

"Come, turn down this street with me, and tell me all about it."

Fly trudged along, prattling merrily, for about a minute: then she drew away. "'Tisn't a nice place; I don't want to go there."

A look of pain crossed the blind girl's face.

"No, I dare say you don't. It isn't much of a place for folks with silk bonnets on."

"You can't see my bonnet; you can't see anything, you're blind-eyed; but," said Fly, glancing sharply around, "it isn't pretty here, at all; and there's a dead cat right in the street."

"Yes, I think likely."

"And there's a boy. I spect he frowed the cat out the window; he hasn't nuffin on but dirty cloe's."

"Do you see some steps?" said the blind girl, putting her hand out cautiously. "Don't fall down."

"I shan't fall down; I'm going home."

"O, don't child; you must come with me. My mother will take care of you."

"I don't want n.o.body's mother to take 'are o' me; I've got a mamma myself!"

"How little you know!" said the blind girl, thinking aloud; "how lucky it is I found you! and O, dear, how I wish I could see! You'll slip away in spite of me."

But Flyaway allowed herself to be drawn along, step by step, partly because she liked the "freckled dog," and partly because she had not ceased being amused by the droll sight of a person walking with closed eyes.

"What's the name of you, girl?"

"Maria."

"Maria? So was my mamma; her name was Maria, when she was a little girl.

O, look, there's another boy; don't you see him? Up high, in that house.

Got a big box with a string to it."

A very rough-looking boy was standing at a third-story window, lowering a bandbox by a clothes-line. As Fly watched the box slowly coming down, the boy called out,--

"Get in, little un, and I'll give you a free ride."

"O, no--O, no; I don't _da.s.s_ to."

"Yes, yes; go in, lemons," said the boy, choking with laughter, as he saw the child's horror. "If you don't do it, by cracky, I'll come down and fetch you."

At this, Fly was frightened nearly out of her senses, and ran so fast that the dog could scarcely have kept up with her, even if he had not had a blind mistress pulling him back.

"O, where are you?" exclaimed Maria. "Don't run away from me,--don't!"

"He's a-gon to kill me in two," cried Flyaway, stopping for breath.'

"he's a-gon to kill me in two-oo!"

"No, he isn't, dear! It's only Izzy Paul He couldn't catch you, if he tried. He's lame, and goes on crutches."

"But he said a swear word,--yes he, did," sobbed the child, never doubting that a boy who could swear was capable of murder, though he had neither hands nor feet.

"Stop, now," said Maria, clutching Fly as if she had been a spinning top. "This is my house. Mother, mother, here's a little girl; catch her--hold her--keep her!"

"Me? What should I catch a little girl for?" said Mrs. Brooks, a faded woman with a tired face, and a nose that moved up and down when she talked. She had been standing at the door of their tumbledown tenement, looking for her daughter, and was surprised to see her bringing a strange child with her. It was not often that well-dressed people wandered into that dirty alley.

"The poor little thing has got lost, mother. Perhaps _you_ can find out where she came from. I didn't ask her any questions; it was as much as I could do to keep up with her."