A
Little Child
BY
MARY HORNIBROOK CUMMINS
AUTHOR OF
THE MIGHTY GUEST
THE AWAKENING
DAVIS & BOND
BOSTON
Copyright 1913 by
DAVIS & BOND
INDEX
| CHAPTER | PAGE | |
| I. | The Artist | 9 |
| II. | The Sorrow Sea | 22 |
| III. | The Big Wave | 32 |
[Pg 9]
A
LITTLE CHILD
Chapter I
THE ARTIST
He stood with bare feet planted wellapart in the sand, working his toes downcomfortably into its moist warmth andregarding Graham as though he were apoor riddle. His cotton blouse, open atthe throat, showed a strong, shapelylittle neck. One brown hand grasped abattered tin pail, the other a woodenspade.
Gilbert Graham drew out pad andpencil and made a rapid sketch. Thechild’s clear gaze remained fixed on hisface while he worked. When the drawingwas finished, the artist thrust it carelesslyinto his coat pocket and resumedhis gloomy inspection of the ocean.
[Pg 10]
“What did you do then?” demandedseven-year-old curiosity.
“Earned another slice of bread andbutter; though why I should earn it, oreat it when it is earned, is more than Iknow.”
The boy seemed to ponder on this fora while and then, evidently finding itbeyond him, gave it up.
“Let me see it,” he suggested.
“What?”
“What you drawed with that pencil.”
“What I drew with this pencil?”Gilbert parried, for the sake of hearinghim talk.
“Yes.”
“Oh, I guess not!”
The child drew nearer and stood leaningagainst his knee as he sat on a lowslab of rock. They looked steadily intoeach other’s eyes. There was somethingirresistibly winning in the littlefellow’s fearlessness and sociable intent.Graham lifted his hand and brushed theclose-cropped head with gentle touch.
[Pg 11]
“Poor little chap!” he said, huskily.
“Why’d you say that?” the boy askedcuriously.
“Oh, because some day you’ll grow upand—well, I hope you won’t make amess of it, as I have!”
“What’s make-a-mess-of-it?”
“Look here,” Graham demanded, “areyou a walking interrogation point?”
“I’m Gerald Hammond Fitzgerald,”the boy answered with dignity.
“Glad to make your acquaintance,Gerald Hammond Fitzgerald.” If Grahamsmiled inwardly, no shade of amusementcrossed his face.
“’Me see it!” the little fellow pleaded.