The Fairy Godmothers and Other Tales by Mrs. Alfred Gatty
page 29 of 135 (21%)
page 29 of 135 (21%)
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"I don't care about my eyes being red, tho' I don't want to wake the
poor baby," sobbed the little girl, slightly softening her wrath: "but the cat has unravelled all the stocking I have been knitting at for so many days, and I had nearly just finished it, and now it's all spoilt;" and she roared with vexation. "Miss Hermione, if you go on so I shall certainly send for your Mamma, and the baby will be quite poorly, he will! and we shall know who made him so," added Nurse triumphantly. "I can't make the baby poorly with crying, Nurse, so that's nonsense you know," observed Hermione; "but I didn't mean to disturb him; only my stocking is gone, and I don't know what to do." And here she sobbed afresh. "Do! why ain't you going down to the ladies, and can't you be brushing your hair and washing your face and getting ready?" "But it isn't time." "Well, but can't you get ready _before_ the time a little? and then, when you're dressed and look so clean and nice and pretty, you can sit in the chair and we can look at you!" and here the good old Nurse gave a knowing smile and nodded her head. Hermione caught sight of the comical coaxing glance, and, in spite of her misfortune, burst into a fit of laughter. "Hum, hum, hum! now you'll wake the poor thing by laughing, Miss Hermione. I do wish you'd be quiet:" and here the Nurse rocked the child on her knee more vigorously than ever. "Then why don't you tell me what I am to do with my stocking," cried Hermione. "Oh well, I know what I will do--something quite as quiet as a mouse. I will wind up my poor worsted." Hereupon the little girl picked up the puckered remains of her luckless grey stocking which a facetious young cat had spent at least a quarter of an hour in |
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