. Little "Jim Crow" : and other stories for children . k—cried until a smallnoise attracted his attention. Ho lookedaround, and through his tears saw thedog had already finished his real work,and was now attending to a few details,such as picking up the widely scatteredcrumbs and carefully licking the butter ofthis upper lip. The lightning quickness of the wholeperformance so delighted Shins that hecried out: Well, you are a high roller!And as the dog wagged a pleased assent tothe assertion, Shins told him to coin on and he d get him a drink. I saw them at a leaky hydrant. Shinshad caught some
. Little "Jim Crow" : and other stories for children . k—cried until a smallnoise attracted his attention. Ho lookedaround, and through his tears saw thedog had already finished his real work,and was now attending to a few details,such as picking up the widely scatteredcrumbs and carefully licking the butter ofthis upper lip. The lightning quickness of the wholeperformance so delighted Shins that hecried out: Well, you are a high roller!And as the dog wagged a pleased assent tothe assertion, Shins told him to coin on and he d get him a drink. I saw them at a leaky hydrant. Shinshad caught some water in his torn old hat,and the high roller drank and drank;and as Shins was telling him how easy itwas for a smart dog to learn to walk on hishind legs, I looked long and carefully intohis tear-brightened eyes, shining above hisdirty, streaky cheeks,--looked long andcarefully, as one should look who finds •/ / something great in embryo,—and theresurely is a future philanthropist in thislittle street gamin, Shins. MY MR. EDWARD MY MR. EDWARD. |DONT know why iny thoughtsshould travel so far backwardto-day—why I am forced todwell upon these early memo-ries, so broken, yet so vivid. Is it be-cause the rain is falling! Not the warm,sweet rain of April; not the fierce, blackrain of November: but the soft, sad, tear-like rain of early autumn, through whichthe loosened yellow leaves fall in heavysilence to the sodden earth. perhaps I have gazed too long, toosteadily, upon the bit of iron foolishnessstanding on the table here before me,knowing its great cost,—poor little toy flat-iron, made to press a dollys wardrobe,—and remembering, as I must remember allmy life, the day the awful price was paid,and it became my property. Perhaps !Curious things early childish memories 73 74 MY MR. EDWARD are, too. There will be some event re-membered with astonishing clearness, evenwords of unknown meaning being re-called ; then there comes a hiatus; then an-other memory, u
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Keywords: ., boo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectafricanamericans
