THE LITTLE GIRL 



THAT NOBODY LIKED.



"WASN'T it kind in Miss Hodge to give us such a short Latin lesson?" said Sue.

"I don't know as it was very kind. She generally gives us long enough ones to make up," said Katie.

"Say, don't you think that new girl is pretty?" whispered Carrie.

"Not so very. Too many freckles," said Katie.  Katie walked home alone. Frankie was in the front yard, putting the last touches to a snowman.

"Look, Kit, isn't he a big feller," shouted the little boy.

"I don't call him so very tremendous," said Katie. "You needn't throw that snow-ball at me, sir."  Katie went into the house, and found mamma and Aunt Eleanor talking with Mrs. Eldridge in the parlor. 

"What red cheeks your little girl has!" said Mrs. Eldridge pleasantly; she must have been out in the cold." 

"I don't think it's very cold today," said Katie, seating herself by the register.

"My Minnie has been out skating for the first time this winter," Mrs. Eldridge went on.

"Does she like to skate? I hate to," said Katie.  Mrs. Eldridge said no more, but turned to Katie's mamma.

"Katie, I must show you the hood Mrs. Eldridge brought me," said mamma, after she was gone. "Don't you think it's pretty?"

"I don't think red's a pretty color a bit. What a queer shape it is! I've got to go and study."

"Eleanor, what shall I do with that child?" said Mrs. Wicks helplessly. 

"Do tell me what is the matter with her."

"Her food don't agree with her; I'm pretty sure of that" said grandma. 

"The child's stomach is out of order." 

"I've talked and I've talked, and it does no good," continued Mrs. Wicks. 

"She contradicts from morning till night. I'll turn her over to you, Eleanor. I wish you would have a serious talk with her. But if you ever have children of your own, you'll find it is not such an easy matter," sighed Mrs. Wicks, "to make angels of them." Aunt Eleanor had heard this many times before. She laughed, and went on crocheting, but she did not forget her little niece with her sad infirmity. 

That night they all sat in the parlor. Grandma was nodding over her knitting; papa complained there was nothing in the paper; Frankie was pulling the cat's tail; and Katie was groaning, "Oh, dear, I wish somebody'd play 'go bang' with me."

"Let's all play something," said Aunt Eleanor, throwing down her work. "I heard of a new game the other day. Let me tell you. First some one goes out of the room."

"Oh, let me go! Let me go!" cried Katie.

"In just a minute, dear. The people left in the room decide on some adjective, like amiable, or conceited, or flattering; and when you come in, and say something to each one, he must be amiable, or conceited, as the case may be, in his answer. And you must guess by his manner what this adjective is. You all understand? 

There, Katie dear, run out in the hall. We won't keep you long.  So papa and mamma and grandma begged Eleanor to tell them some adjective. They could really think of not another one in the language besides amiable and conceited and flattering, and those Katie had already heard.

"I have one," said Aunt Eleanor, and whispered something in the ear of each. "Come, Katie."

Katie had been thinking up questions as she sat on the hall stairs, and started out bravely.

"Auntie, don't you think mamma's new bonnet is pretty?"

"Pretty!" said Aunt Eleanor, "I wouldn't be hired to wear such a looking thing."

Katie looked puzzled, and a little uncomfortable.

"Mamma, are we going to have that nice pudding for dinner tomorrow?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Mrs. Wicks, with a weariness, which was quite sincere. "Who cares for pudding? I'd like never to see one again," 

"Well, papa, you like it any way, don't you? You said you did."

"A man has a right to change his mind, hasn't he?" said Mr. Wicks, gruffly. "I suppose I can eat it if I can't get anything else, though." Katie reddened. Had she not said that very thing at breakfast?

"Frankie," she went on, "you ought to go to bed. It's half past seven."

"I'm not going to bed till I get ready," said Frankie, as if the game cost him no great effort.

"You naughty boy! Now, grandma, how did you like the work-bag I gave you Christmas?"

Grandma looked troubled, but Aunt Eleanor gave her warning.

"I thought, dear," said the old lady, tremulously, "that it was a very queer shape."

Katie could bear it no longer. "I don't know anything about your old game; but I know you are all perfectly horrid! You contradict every thing I say. You don't agree" 

"Hurrah! You've guessed it. And a person who never agrees is what?" 

Poor Katie! She stood still, looking from one to the other, then sobbed out, "I, I suppose you, you mean disagreeable," and rushed out of the room.

When Aunt Eleanor went up stairs, a tearful voice called, "Auntie, will you come here a minute?" 

"Yes, dear."

"Oh, aunty, I know what you all meant. You played that game on purpose, so I could hear how it sounded. I'm never going to be disagreeable again."

It was a great promise to make, and it must be confessed that Katie sometimes forgot to keep it. At the end of a year she was by no means a little angel, but she was quite as far from being "the little girl that nobody liked." 




Christian Register.