When my sister was a very little girl and I
was a little girl, we lived in 24 Park Street. A shoe-mender lived near
our house. He very often mended my shoes and my sister's shoes. My
little sister liked to go with my mother to the shoe-mender. He was an
old man, and his name was Mr. Smith.
My little sister liked to talk to Mr.
Smith, and he liked to talk to her, too. He gave her little boxes, and
she liked to play with them. Then she put the boxes back on the shelf.
Mr. Smith had a very funny picture on the
wall. In this picture you could see a little dog in a very big shoe. My
little sister liked this picture very much.
One day my mother wanted to buy a new coat
for me. She did not want to take my little sister with us, because she
was too little.
But my naughty little sister cried:
"I want to go, too! I want to go!"
'And she cried and cried.
Then my father said:
"You can't go. I shall take my work into the garden, and I shall look after you."
So my father took his table into the
garden. He put it near a bench under a big tree. Then he took his pen
and began to write. My father was a writer. He wrote books for children.
My sister looked and looked at the father, and then she said:
"Father, please give me my doll. It is in a big box in the wardrobe."
So my father went to my mother's bedroom.
He took the big box out of the wardrobe and gave it to my little sister.
Then he began to write again. My sister looked and looked at my father,
then she said:
"Father, I want a drink."
My father went to the kitchen, took a cup of water and brought it to my little sister. Then he began to write again.
"Please, Father," said my naughty little sister. "My doll wants a drink. Give her a cup of water, too."
My father was angry. He said:
"Your doll can't drink."
"She can, she can. She can open and close her eyes. She can say Ma-ma. She can drink, too."
Then my father took his table back into
his room, and he took his work with him. He sat down at his table and
began to write. When my naughty little sister opened the door, he said:
"Close the door and go away. And don't come back again. I am busy now."
He worked and worked, and then he looked
at the clock. It was late. He went to the kitchen, took some bread,
butter and cheese and went to look for my sister. He looked in the
garden. She was not there. He looked in the yard. She was not there. He
could not find her. Then he went out into the street. He asked people:
"Have you seen a little girl with red hair and brown eyes?"
But the people said, "No, we haven't."
My father went home. He did not know what to do. When we came home, my mother went to the kitchen and said:
"Why didn't you give Nancy her bread and butter?"
Father told her all about my naughty little sister.
And then my mother said:
"I know where she is. She is with old Mr. Smith."
We all went to Mr. Smith, and there we saw my naughty little sister. She was playing with little boxes.
"Come home," said my father.
"I don't want to," said my naughty little sister.
"Come home. It is late. You must drink your milk," said my mother.
"I don't want to."
Then Mr. Smith said, "Take this picture
and give it to your doll. She will like it." And Mr. Smith took his
beautiful picture from the wall and gave it to my naughty little sister.
My sister was very happy. She forgot to say Thank you to Mr. Smith and ran home very quickly.
And we all went home, too.