AI Classic Books

33099.

33100.

33101.

33102.

33103.

33104.

33105.

33106.

33107.

33108.

33109.

33110.

33111.

33112.

33113.

33114.

33115.

33116.

33117.

33118.

33119.

33120.

33121.

33122.

33123.

33124.

33125.

33126.

33127.

33128.

33129.

33130.

33131.

33132.

33133.

33134.

33135.

33136.

33137.

33138.

33139.

33140.

33141.

33142.

33143.

33144.

33145.

33146.

33147.

33148.

33149.

33150.

33151.

33152.

"and I was just imagining I was one of them--that I was the little girl in the blue dress, standing off by herself in the corner as if she didn’t belong to anybody, like me. She looks lonely and sad, don’t you think? I guess she hadn’t any father or mother of her own. But she wanted to be blessed, too, so she just crept shyly up on the outside of the crowd, hoping nobody would notice her--except Him. I’m sure I know just how she felt. Her heart must have beat and her hands must have got cold, like mine did when I asked you if I could stay. She was afraid He mightn’t notice her. But it’s likely He did, don’t you think? I’ve been trying to imagine it all out--her edging a little nearer all the time until she was quite close to Him; and then He would look at her and put His hand on her hair and oh, such a thrill of joy as would run over her! But I wish the artist hadn’t painted Him so sorrowful looking. All His pictures are like that, if you’ve noticed. But I don’t believe He could really have looked so sad or the children would have been afraid of Him."

33153.

33154.

33155.

33156.

33157.

33158.

33159.

33160.

33161.

33162.

33163.

33164.

33165.

33166.

33167.

33168.

33169.

33170.

33171.

33172.

33173.

33174.

33175.

33176.

33177.

"Oh, I’m so glad she’s pretty. Next to being beautiful oneself--and that’s impossible in my case--it would be best to have a beautiful bosom friend. When I lived with Mrs. Thomas she had a bookcase in her sitting room with glass doors. There weren’t any books in it; Mrs. Thomas kept her best china and her preserves there--when she had any preserves to keep. One of the doors was broken. Mr. Thomas smashed it one night when he was slightly intoxicated. But the other was whole and I used to pretend that my reflection in it was another little girl who lived in it. I called her Katie Maurice, and we were very intimate. I used to talk to her by the hour, especially on Sunday, and tell her everything. Katie was the comfort and consolation of my life. We used to pretend that the bookcase was enchanted and that if I only knew the spell I could open the door and step right into the room where Katie Maurice lived, instead of into Mrs. Thomas’ shelves of preserves and china. And then Katie Maurice would have taken me by the hand and led me out into a wonderful place, all flowers and sunshine and fairies, and we would have lived there happy for ever after. When I went to live with Mrs. Hammond it just broke my heart to leave Katie Maurice. She felt it dreadfully, too, I know she did, for she was crying when she kissed me good-bye through the bookcase door. There was no bookcase at Mrs. Hammond’s. But just up the river a little way from the house there was a long green little valley, and the loveliest echo lived there. It echoed back every word you said, even if you didn’t talk a bit loud. So I imagined that it was a little girl called Violetta and we were great friends and I loved her almost as well as I loved Katie Maurice--not quite, but almost, you know. The night before I went to the asylum I said good-bye to Violetta, and oh, her good-bye came back to me in such sad, sad tones. I had become so attached to her that I hadn’t the heart to imagine a bosom friend at the asylum, even if there had been any scope for imagination there."

33178.

33179.

33180.

33181.

33182.

33183.

33184.

33185.

33186.

33187.

33188.

33189.

33190.

33191.

33192.

33193.

33194.

33195.

33196.

33197.

33198.

33199.

33200.

33201.

33202.

33203.

33204.