• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Cissa's black cat
 A little yellow shoe
 Back Cover






Group Title: "Star of hope" series
Title: Cissa's black cat
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00053271/00001
 Material Information
Title: Cissa's black cat and, A little yellow shoe
Series Title: "Star of hope" series
Alternate Title: Little yellow shoe
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : col. ill. ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Keary, Annie, 1825-1879
Frederick Warne and Co ( Publisher )
Dalziel Brothers ( Engraver )
Camden Press ( Printer )
Publisher: Frederick Warne and Co.
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Dalziel Brothers ; Camden Press
Publication Date: [1884?]
 Subjects
Subject: Cats -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Play -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Dolls -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1884   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1884
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by A. Keary ; with coloured frontispiece.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by Dalziel.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00053271
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232397
notis - ALH2790
oclc - 63674293

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page i
    Frontispiece
        Plate
    Title Page
        Page ii
        Page iii
    Dedication
        Page iv
    Cissa's black cat
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
    A little yellow shoe
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
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CISSA'S BLACK CAT,
AND

A LITTLE YELLOW SHOE.


BY A. KEARY,
AUTHOR OF "FATHER PHIM," ETC.


WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE










LONDON:
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.
BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.

































OALZIBL BROTlRSU, CAYDIN PRBSS.



























Dcbicatetf

TO

MAUD, EDITH, AND KATE.


















CISSA'S BLACK CAT.



OW, I am not going to waste my time by
telling you who Cissa is, or what she is
like. You will all be able to picture to
yourselves a little girl with just such nice yellow
hair, and just such kind brown eyes, and merry
mouth, and rosy cheeks, as you best like to see, and
that is Cissa. Nor shall I describe to you the house
she lives in, for you will find out a great deal about
it as my story goes on. I will begin at once with
the history of that day when the black cat, which
became the dearest thing in the house to all the
children, came first into it. Well, it was a cloudy
day at that time of year when days begin to be
rather short and rather cold-when it is almost too
1-8







Cissa's Black Cat.

dark at tea-time to set the table'till the nursery lamp
is lighted, and when mamma and Nurse begin to
take last year's warm frocks and coats from the-
upper shelves in the nursery wardrobe, where they
had been put in the spring, and to call the children
away from their play very often in the course of a
morning, and beg them'to stand still a few minutes
while last year's frocks are tried on-but always on
the wrong children. This, you all know, is a little
tiresome, and puzzling too, for it makes you half
think you are turning into your elder sister, and that
it is the next younger one who is going to be you.
Interruptions of this kind had been going on all
the morning in Cissa's nursery, and she had not
minded it very much, though Nurse had kept her
standing quite half an hour, while she fitted Violet's
purple frock on her little person, and stuck-Cissa
thought-hundreds of pins into the stuff, and one
now and then into Cissa's soft white neck and pinky
arms as well. Cissa did not mind even this, and I
will tell you why: she had got a little new doll
safely shut up-in her hand, and all the time Nurse
was turning her round and round, and pinching and
fit ing, she was talking to it softly. It was a china







Cissa's Black Cat.

doll-no, I don't mean one of the undressed kind
that you put into a bath: this was made to look as
if it had very pretty clothes on, with gilding and
colours all about, and there was something like a
crown on its head. It was, however, much too
small to be made Queen of the dolls in the toy-
cupboard, so Cissa made it up in her mind that the
new china doll was a sort of fairy; that was why she
talked to it and listened-listened-till she really
almost thought she heard it answer.
She tells me her name is Lady Greenbud," Cissa
said, standing very still to please Nurse, but looking
over her left shoulder towards Violet and Winnie,
who were putting out the Noah's Ark at the table by
the window, and making their china dolls ride on the
elephants. "I have just asked her what she thinks
of our nursery, and if she shall like living with us as
well as living in the country she came from."
"And what does she say?" asked Violet.
"Wait a bit," answered Cissa; "I can't hear her
jut. now, because Nurse has put so many pins in
:.mysleeve, I can't lift her up to my ear; but I will
tell you soon."
"Well?" said Violet after a minute.







Cissa's Black Cat.

"Oh, well," said Cissa, she says she likes us, and
Nurse, and mamma, and Aunt Lilla, oh, very much,
and she does not dislike the nursery, though, of
course, it is not to be compared to the lovely place
she comes from; but she is afraid she shall not be
happy with us, because our birdie is dead, and we
have no little Kitty about the place. She says she
does not know how ever she shall bear it."
"Then she is like me," said Violet. "I don't
know how ever I shall bear it, when winter comes, if
we have not any dear little live thing to love and
feed and play with."
"But I have got a hairy caterpillar," said Cissa;
"I found it yesterday, and I put it in a pin-box, and
I shall feed it with leaves all the winter."
"Caterpillars go to sleep in the winter," said
Violet: "they turn into nasty little bits of dead
stick that are no use at all; and then-listen, Cissa,
for you are going to be surprised: when spring
comes, out of the ugly dead sticks there fly away
yellow butterflies !"
"Oh, Violet, are you quite sure?"
"Mamma told me," said Violet.
"Well," said Cissa, "but perhaps my little hairy







Cissa's Black Cat.

caterpillar won't go to sleep. If it knows I don't
like it, and if I talk to it a good deal, and poke it
with my finger, perhaps it will keep awake and eat
leaves all the winter."
"Then it will never be a yellow butterfly," said
"Violet; "never, never; and I should think it
would be very sorry to stay a hairy caterpillar all
its life. It won't love you for that, if you give it
ever so many leaves."
Won't it ? said Cissa; "then I will let it go to
sleep for a little while. On Sundays, when we are
at church, it shall sleep always; and some Monday
morning when I look at it, it will have turned into
a butterfly, and we will put it in the bird's cage, and
give it flowers to look at and honey to eat. Won't
it be happy then, and love me?"
By this time Nurse had taken off the purple frock,
and put Cissa's own frock on again; and now she
told her she might go away if she liked. Cissa
went to the dolls' house, and took the pin-box from
the table, and looked at her hairy caterpillar. It
had eaten a large hole in the rose-leaf she had given
it that morning, but it was now lying still and looking
a little sleepy.







Cissa's Black Cat.

"I really think," said Cissa, speaking to the in-
mates of the dolls' house, who were seated upright
round the table in their best dresses, "that when
there are so many of you, and you are so well taken
care of, and fed with the best of chocolate drops, I
really think that you might try a little to keep my
hairy caterpillar awake for me. It would not be
such a great deal of trouble for one of you to tell
him a story while he is eating his dinner; but I
have seen for a long time that you are growing lazy
and stupid, so now I have brought you a new
mistress, a fairy mistress, who has a wand, and who
can punish you if you are disobedient I hope you
will mind what she says, and that I shall find a
great change in your faces when I come up from
dinner."
Lady Greenbud was far too small to sit on any
of the doll's chairs, and the caterpillar's box filled
the table; but Cissa put her to stand on the chim-
neypiece between the clock and the chandelier, and
there she looked very much at home, as if she was
quite capable of ruling the big silent dolls, though
they had real hair, and dresses with hooks and eyes,
that could be taken off and put on again.







Cissa's Black Cat.

The dinner-bell rang while Cissa was standing
before the dolls' house, and the three little girls
went downstairs to dine with Aunt Lilla, for mamma
had gone from home that day, and was not expected
back till evening. Aunt Lilla had lately come to
stay at Cissa's home, and it was she-as perhaps
you have guessed already-who had brought the
new little china dolls and the Noah's Ark in her
large box, as presents to her nieces. She had come
to stay a long time, and the children were glad, for
they were all very fond of Aunt Lilla, who, next to
mamma, knew more stories than any other grown-
up person they had ever seen. They talked a great
deal to her at dinner about the Noah's Ark and
Lady Greenbud and the hairy caterpillar; and
Violet, who knew the most about everything, gave
Aunt Lilla the whole sad history of the death of
poor birdie, and his burial under the laburnum-tree
in the back garden, and consulted her about what
they had better do to get some other little live thing
to stay with them in their nursery.
"You know, Aunt Lilla," said Violet, "it is all
very well to make believe, and we all do make be-
lieve very hard, especially on rainy days, about the







Cissa's Black Cat.

dolls and the wooden animals being alive; but still
they never do move or look, or get to love us; so
it can't be the same thing. Cissa is the best make-
believer of us three, but even she has been obliged
to get a hairy caterpillar."
"And a very sleepy one, I am afraid," said Cissa.
Aunt Lilla did not think that a great deal of
affection could be expected from a hairy caterpillar;
but she put the children in mind of the sparrows
and robin redbreasts who would want feeding when
the really cold weather came; and then she told
them a story that lasted all pudding-time about a
tortoise she and their mamma had had when they
were children, which was quite as sleepy as Cissa's
caterpillar, and was once lost for six months, and
found again in the beginning of spring in a hole in
the floor of the cellar, where it had buried itself in
the autumn. It was raining still when dinner was
over; but about half-past four o'clock the rain
stopped, and the sun came out, and made the wet
leaves of the trees in the gardens opposite sparkle
prettily. Cissa went to the window, hoping that
some of the neighbours' children would come out
to play and look up and nod at her; but Violet and







Cissa's Black Cat.

Winnie went and stood at the nursery door, for Nurse
had gone downstairs into the kitchen to iron the
purple frock she was altering, and the nursery looked
rather dull. Presently they saw Aunt Lilla come
out of her room, with her hat and waterproof on.
"Oh, she is going out!" they cried. "Come,
Cissa, let us all run to her, and beg and pray her to
let us go too."
Aunt Lilla was stopped at the head of the stairs
by three pairs of little arms wound round her, and
she could not have helped listening to the children's.
entreaties if even she had wished it.
"But it has only just done raining," she said,
"and the pathway is full of little rain-puddles."
Little rain-puddles are dears to jump over," said
Cissa. "And see how the sun is shining, and how
pretty it is out of doors."
"But I am going as far as Mrs. Murray's, to take
her some books from mamma," said Aunt Lilla, "and
I don't know that she will like such a noisy party
of little people bursting-in upon her all at once."
"Yes, yes, she will 'ceedingly," cried Cissa; "she
is always so glad to see us when we come with
mamma."







Cissa's Black Cat.

"Besides, we can help you to carry the books,"
pleaded Violet.
"And wear our new strong noisy boots that came
home last night," lisped little Winnie.
Aunt Lilla seemed to think Winnie's notion about
the boots a good one, for she made no more objec-
tions, and was soon very busy helping Violet to find
the outdoor clothes, and putting Winnie's noisy boots
on to her little feet. Cissa and Violet had learned
to put on their boots quite a year ago, and now only
wanted a little help in tying hat-strings and button-
ing overcoats. Winnie took Aunt Lilla's hand as they
left the front door, and stamped her feet well down
against the pavement as she walked, to show Aunt
Lilla how noisy her boots were. She thought it was
to hear this delightful music their aunt had taken
them out, and she would not have disappointed her
for anything, so every now and then she peeped up
into her face to see if it was quite as loud as she
had expected, or if she were surprised at all. The
other two ran on to find all the best puddles to jump
over; but by-and-bye Cissa grew tired of jumping,
and walked quietly for the rest of the way, holding
Aunt Lilla's other hand. It was a pretty road they







Cissa's Black Cat.

walked along-not, however, a country road, for it
was near London, and there were houses nearly all
the way; but these were big houses, in large gardens
with shady trees that hung over the road, and with
roses and Virginia creeper that climbed down the
walls or peeped between the palings. Cissa liked
to look at them, and to hold out her hand for the
chance of a bright red leaf falling into it, and when
she came to a bed of withered leaves, she shuffled
her feet well to hear the delicious crackling they
made. Farther down the road was a railway bridge
hung with crimson and green lamps, which Cissa
looked at with a kind of awe.
"Aunt Lilla," she said, "do you see that place
down there?" pointing to the railway station. "Do
you know that when we passed it late one night,
coming home from a party, it had turned into a
dark, dark cave, and a family of giants with fiery
heads were sitting round a table in it, eating their
suppers ?"
"No, no, Aunt Lilla," said Violet, who after a
long run had returned, and was now walking back-
wards before the other three, "it was only a luggage-
shed all the time, and the giants with fiery heads






Cissa's Black Cat.

were the lamps in the station behind, showing
through; mamma said so, but Cissa is such a make-
believer !"
"Well," said Cissa, "they looked like giants, if
they were lamps; and next time they come I'11 show
them to you, Aunt Lilla."
"Violet had better turn round," said Aunt Lilla,.
"and let us three trot on a little faster, or it will
be dark enough for the giants to have lit their
fiery heads before we can get back from Mrs.
Murray's."
Certainly it will," said Violet, "for Mrs. Murray
will ask us all to stay tea, and you will let us, won't
you, Aunt Lilla? It is so very nice. It always
happens this way-just as mamma is getting up to
go away, Susan, that is Mrs. Murray's servant, comes
in and puts out a shiny round table, and then brings
a tray with tea, and Mrs. Murray says, 'You must
all have a cup of tea with me before you go,' and I
think,' she says, 'that Susan can find something down-
stairs that you little people will like better than this
bread and butter;' then Susan, who is very good-
natured, and who likes us, smiles and comes back
with a plum cake cut in slices, or perhaps a plate







Cissa's Black Cat.

of gingerbread nuts, and hands them to us. That
is what will happen, you will see."
"Perhaps so," said Aunt Lilla, but I would not
reckon on cake and gingerbread, if I were you, till
I was asked to have them."
"Oh, no," said Violet. "I was only telling you,
that you might know what to do."
"And, besides," said Cissa, "it is not the things
to eat we care about, for I often only take a corner
of cake for fear of making crumbs; but you know,
Aunt Lilla, that it really is very nice to sit round
with mamma in arm-chairs, and have tea handed to
you like a grown-up person; and then there is a nice
fat dog with short legs, who always comes to me,
and licks my hand while I am eating, and a parrot
in the hall, who says Give me a bit of cake' as
we come out, and we always save some of ours for
him."
By this time the party had come in sight of Mrs.
Murray's house, and Violet and Cissa ran on first to
open the garden gate ready for Aunt Lilla, and ring
the house-door bell. Perhaps they did not succeed
in making it sound, for Aunt Lilla had to wait and
then ring again, and meanwhile Winnie took a little
2







Cissa's Black Cat.

independent trot up and down the gravel walk in
front of the windows, and came back with sparkling
eyes.
Now, I know we shall be asked to stay tea," she
said, "for I peeped in at the drawing-room window,
and Susan is putting out the shining table already."
"Oh, Winnie," cried Violet and Cissa, "you
should not peep in at windows."
"But I did not frighten anybody," said little
Winnie, gravely. And Aunt Lilla, looking down into
her bonnie wee face, wondered how she thought
she could have done it.
Yes, tea was on the table, certainly, and a plate
of sponge cake that looked tempting; but though
Mrs. Murray received the party kindly, and though
Aunt Lilla, yielding to Cissa's significant squeezes
of her hand, sat talking on the sofa for some time,
Mrs. Murray made no offer of tea to anybody, but
kept looking towards the door at intervals, as if she
expected some one to come in. By-and-bye a patter
of rain-drops was heard against the window, and
"Aunt Lilla rose to go.
"We must hasten home, I think," she said,
"before the rain comes down faster.".







Cissa's Black Cat.

Then little Winnie, who did not easily bear to be
disappointed when she had set her heart on a thing,
burst out, But we are not going home yet, we are
going to stay tea."
Violet and Cissa cried, Hush!" and Aunt Lilla
looked uncomfortable; but Mrs. Murray smiled, and
patted Winnie's rosy cheeks.
"I should like to ask you to stay tea," she said,
"and to send you home in the carriage later, as it
is beginning to tain; but Mr. Murray is at home
to-day, and he is unwell, and he will come in here
for some tea directly."
"But would not he like to see us?" cried little
Winnie. "I am sure if he came to our house, and
we had sponge cake, I should ask him to stay tea.
I should say, 'I hope you are come to stay a long
time.'"
"Yes, I am sure you would," said Mrs. Murray,
laughing, "and Mr. Murray will say the same to
you the next time you come, when he does not
happen to have a bad headache; but now, I think,
you had better come with me, and I will find the
key of the back garden door, and Susan shall take
you out that way, and put you in the lane behind
2-2







Cissa's Black Cat.

the station, which will save you a long distance in.
your walk home. Perhaps, too, she will find some
late pears in the garden for you to take home with
you."
Aunt Lilla, however, could not wait for the pears,
for the rain was falling in quick drops when she got
out of the house, and she was anxious to hasten
home. She held one of Winnie's hands, and told
Violet to take the other, that they might help her
quickly along between them, and she begged Cissa
to keep close behind them, that a little corner of
the big umbrella Susan had lent them might cover
her. Till they had passed the garden gate and
were out in the lane, Cissa kept fast hold of Aunt
Lilla's gown; but after that she let go, and lingered
just a little way behind. She liked to hear the
patter of the quick drops on the hedges in the lane,
and to feel the rain in her face, and to think that
for once she was out in a good shower: she had so
often stood at the nursery window on rainy after-
noons, and watched people and children hurrying
along the wet roads, and wished she were with them.
It seemed so busy and important to be out in the
rain! It was really growing dark too; there were







Cissa's Black Cat.

lights springing up all along the main road, on which
they had now, for a time, turned their backs, and
the lamps on the railway bridge looked like strange
fiery eyes. The luggage-shed, which seemed to be
straight before them at the end of the lane, had
changed already into a dark, dark cave, and, no
doubt, in a minute or two, the giants would jump
up into it, and begin to eat their suppers. So Cissa
half believed, at least; and her silly little heart
began to beat quickly, and she felt sorry she had
let go her hold of Aunt Lilla's gown, and thought
she would run ori and catch the others up before
they reached the end of the lane.
She had just begun to run, when she heard, above
the sound of her own quick little footsteps, a noise
in the hedge-not a loud noise, a sharp noise, some-
thing like the cry of a creature that was hurt or in
pain. Cissa stopped and looked all around, but
could see nothing: the sound had come from behind
the hedge, and just there it was thick, and stopped
up at the bottom with dock-leaves and stinging-
nettles. Should she go and look behind the hedge?
But the bank was steep, it would take some time to
climb up, and Aunt Lilla was already half-way down







Cissa's Black Cat.

the lane: if Cissa delayed, she would have passed
the giants before she could get up to her. Yes,
there they were. While Cissa paused in the middle
of the lane, looking towards the shed, up sprang the
fiery-headed giants, one after the other, quicker than
she could count them, and sat, or seemed to sit,
round their long table. Should she fly quick, quick
to Aunt Lilla? But then there might be some little
live thing behind the hedge, that had called to her
to come and help it. She thought she would wait
a minute longer, and listen. The little sad cry,
fainter this time, came again, and Cissa would not
have run away from it now for anything. She
scrambled up the bank closer to where the sound
came from, pushed away the leaves and nettles, not
minding how badly she stung her hands, and looked
through the little hole she made into the field be-
yond. On the slope of the bank she saw faintly, in
the dark, a little black lump, which might have been
an old hat or a heap of rags; but it was not that,
it was something alive; and what do you think it
did ? It lifted up a little wet black head, and looked
at Cissa, and then it began to creep nearer and
nearer, dragging one leg after the other as if it was






Cissa's Black Cat.

hurt, till at last it had crept through the hole in
the hedge quite into Cissa's arms, and laid its little
black wet head on her shoulder; then it said "mew !"
and Cissa knew she had got a little Kitty. Oh, how
happy she felt! She did not care any more about
the giants: she would have run past twenty fiery
giants (make-believe ones, I mean) with a little
wounded kitten in her arms, that had come to her
of its own accord. Would not you? In a minute
more she had scrambled down the bank, and was
running as fast as her little feet could go down the
lane, at the end of which she found Aunt Lilla and
the others waiting for'her. It was raining now very
fast; but Aunt Lilla remembered Cissa's fancy about
the fiery giants in the lane, and would not pass the
shed without her.
"My dear," she said, "why do you linger in the
rain? You really must try to keep up with us. Can't
you walk as quickly as little Kate?"
"Oh, Aunt Lilla, look!" cried Cissa. "I've got
-I've got a kitten! a real live hurt Kitty, that called
to me, and walked into my arms its own self, it loves
me so; look!"
Aunt Lilla looked, and saw for her part nothing







Cissa's Black Cat.

but a thin, miserable-looking, half-drowned kitten,
lying stiff and wet in Cissa's arms.
Poor thing !" she said. Some one has tried to
drown it in the ditch at the bottom of the bank, and
it has struggled out of the water; but is it alive still ?
Can you carry such an uncomfortable little wet heap
all the way home in your arms?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I can," cried Cissa; "and I'm
sure it's alive; it mewed just now, and it keeps try-
ing to poke its little head under my arm. Don't
you think it means to say by that,' I love you, Cissa,
and I want to go home with you'?"
"At all events, the sooner we get home the
better," answered Aunt Lilla; "so nbw let us see
which of us three can run the fastest."
While saying this, Aunt Lilla seized little Winnie in
her arms, and set off running past the "giant" corner
till they came out on the main road; Violet, holding
the umbrella over herself and Cissa and the kitten,
followed close behind. When they were tired of
running, they walked on side by side as quickly as
they could.
Violet," said Cissa, we have found our little live
thing; ain't you glad? It is better than if some one






Cissa's Black Cat.

had given it to us, for it came to us its own self;
Ain't you glad ?"
Violet was very glad, only a little afraid that the
kitten was more hurt than Cissa knew, and might
die before they got home.
"Oh, but I don't think it will," said Cissa, cheer-
fully: I can feel that it is getting aliver and alive
every minute; and I do think if we stopped walking
we should hear it purr."
But Violet thought they had better not stop even
to hear it purr, for perhaps it might be purring to
tell them that it was very cold and very, very hungry
and thirsty, and they could not give it anything to
eat or drink till they got home. This thought put
fresh speed into Cissa's tired feet, and though it was
hard work struggling through the rain and the wind
-for quite a storm had arisen by this time-she was
the first to run up the steps of their house and ring
the bell. It was Violet, however, who thought of
just the best things to do for the little kitten directly
they got in. It always was Violet who thought of
nice wise things to do. While a little bustle went
on in the hall, owing to mamma (who had returned
home) and Nurse being quite shocked to see how







Cissa's Black Cat.

wet they all were, Violet ran up into the nursery,
took the blankets from the dolls' bed, and laid them
on the rug before the fire; then she poured some
milk from the nursery cream-jug into the largest
saucepan belonging to her dolls' kitchen range, and
put it carefully on the hob to warm, so that when
Cissa came up a minute later, with her kitten in her-
arms, she found a warm dry bed prepared for it, and
some supper getting ready. She was so much
obliged to Violet for thinking of this, because Nurse
only gave her time to put the kitten between the
blankets, before she hurried her into the night
nursery to change her wet clothes. Mamma came
upstairs, however, and Aunt Lilla, to help Violet
and Winnie, so it was not many minutes before the
three little girls were kneeling together oA the rug,
looking at the kitten, which they had never really
examined before, by the firelight.
One could not call this a pretty kitten, at least
not then, however hard one tried. .It was so thin
and so dirty, and one of its little ears was torn just
where there should have been a white spot, and one
leg lay stretched out apart from the others, stiff and
bleeding. One could not caltit a pretty Kitty; but






Cissds Black Cat.

just as Violet was going to say it was ugly, it opened
its eyes and looked pitifully at her, and she could
not find any fault with it after that.
"At all events," said Cissa, "it came to us its own
self, and it is a hurt Kitty, and it looks as if it meant
to love us, and I would rather have it-would not
you, Violet ?-than the whitest, softest well cat that
ever was born."
They all went downstairs after tea, to beg mamma
to come and help them to feed the kitten, for though
the milk had warmed nicely in Violet's saucepan,
and they had poured it out into the biggest saucer
of the dolls' best tea-service, and put it before the
kitten's eyes, the poor creature, hungry as it was, was
too weak to drag itself up to lap the milk. Mamma
advised them to dip a piece of sponge into the milk
and put it into the kitten's mouth, and in this way
they managed to give it a good supper. Every
sponge-full it sucked seemed to do it good, for first
it opened its eyes quite wide, and then it moved its
tail gently, and then it rubbed its head against
Cissa's hand as she was feeding it.
"It knows me," cried Cissa; "it knows that I
am its little mistress; it is glad to be here !"







Cissa's Black Cat.

When the milk was finished, Nurse bound up the
kitten's leg, and told the children that the kindest
thing they could do now was to let it go to sleep by
the fire. The children had, of course, a grand con-
sultation about a bed for it. Cissa wanted to make
it up a little bed in the dolls' house, and to shut the
door safely upon it when she went to bed herself.
"You know," she said, "it might wake in the
night and miss me, and think that the wicked boy
who threw it into the ditch was coming again to
drown it, and it might be frightened; then if it
looked round and saw only the dolls and the door
shut, it would know it was safe, and go happily to
sleep again-as I do, Violet, when you give me your
hand to hold in the dark."
Violet, however, thought that the kitten would be
happiest if it were not shut up. Kittens are not
used to sleep all night like us," she said; they gene-
rally walk about in the night; and though our poor
one can't walk far, it may wish to take a little turn,
just to see what the nursery is like when we are not
in it. I am quite sure it will be best to make a soft
bed for her in Miss Ada's cradle, and I will put
Miss Ada into the perambulator, with a pillow for






Cissa's Black Cat.

her head, where she can manage very comfortably
for one night."
When Violet said she was quite sure of a thing,
neither Cissa norWinnie thought of objecting further.
They now only thought how good it was of her to
let the poor sick kitten have Miss Ada's pink-lined
cradle, which every one said was the handsomest
piece of furniture in the toy-cupboard.
A discovery was made while the kitten was being
carefully laid in its splendid bed. Its poor wet skin
was dry now, and Cissa could stroke and rub its
little head and neck with her hand, as kittens like;
and as she was stroking, she brought to light a red
ribbon that was tied round its neck. It was all wet
and dirty, so they untied it, thinking to give their
kitten a better ornament next day; and as Violet
drew it away, she saw there were some letters worked
on it in coloured worsted. SILKY-Silky. They
were so surprised! It had been somebodfs cat,
then. It had had a mistress who loved it well
enough to work its name on a piece of ribbon.
Oh! how could it have got into the ditch? Violet
and Cissa talked about this -wondering what
the kitten's first mistress was like, and if she was







Cissa's Black Cat.


very sorry to have lost her Kitty, and if they should
ever see her-all the time that Kate was being put
to bed in the night nursery, as they sat on the rug
with the cradle between them, rocking Kitty to
sleep. Then it was Cissa's turn to be put to bed;
and Violet, left alone to rock, sang this little song:

"Lay your little head, Kitty,
In Miss Ada's bed, Kitty;
No naughty boys can do you harm
In Dolly's cradle snug and warm.
"Don't get in a fright, Kitty,
Sleep sound all the night, Kitty,
There's a kiss for Silky Silk;
Cissa '11 give her nice warm milk.
Good night, you darling Silky Silk."

I think Kitty soon did as Violet bid her: for
she did not take any notice when Violet too was
called away.
Cissa was still thinking about her kitten when
mamma came up into the nursery to tuck the chil-
dren into their little beds and kiss a last good night.
She told her about the name on the ribbon, and
asked her how she thought a pet kitten could have
fallen into such a sad plight as she had rescued little
Silky from. Mamma thought that Silky might, per-
haps, have travelled some distance in the train with







"Cissa's Black Cat.

people who were changing their home, and that, in
the bustle of getting into a fresh train at Clapham
Junction, they had left her behind in the carriage,
and that the porters had found her in the way, and
put her into the ditch.
"Poor, poor Kitty!" said Cissa. "Only think,
mamma, if Mrs. Murray had asked us to stay tea,
and sent us home in the carriage, Kitty would have
been lying on the wet grass still; and don't you
think she would have been quite dead in the morn-
ing, mamma?"
"Yes, Cissa, I do indeed think so."
"Quite dead! and she is such a dear, dear little
Kitty, mamma! Do you know that we were wishing
this morning for a little live thing to be with us in
our nursery, and I made believe to myself that my
new little china doll.was a kind of fairy, and could
bring me one. Was not it odd, mamma?"
"Well, no, Cissa; I think it was just one of the
make-believes that come into your curious little head
every day."
"But, mamma, darling, do you think that it was
only by chance that Mrs. Murray did not ask us to
stay tea to-night, while my Kitty was lying there







Cissa's Black Cat.

waiting for me? She could not have known it was
there, you know."
No, Cissa, I don't think it was only a chance."
"Mamma, how do you think it was, then?"
"There is Some One, Cissa, who knows about
all the little sparrows that fall to the ground, and
who loves every live thing: nothing ever happens.
by chance without Him."
"Mamma," said Cissa, "how very kind I must
be to my Kitty, if He gave her to me! And please,
I think I should like to get up and say my prayers
over again. I was not thinking so much as I ought
to have done when I said, 'Thank God for all the
good things He has given me to-day.' I should like
to say that over again for myself, and for my little
Kitty."
















A LITTLE YELLOW SHOE.


















A LITTLE YELLOW SHOE



OWN children and country children have
different ways of measuring how the year
is passing. Violet, Cissa, and Winnie were
not exactly town children, for they lived several
miles from London, and, instead of paved streets,
had nice broad roads to walk upon, with shady
gardens on each side. Yet you could not call theirs
a country house, for they were so much enclosed
with streets and shops, and had so little space to
roam as they liked in, that they fell into the town
children's way ot talking about the months and
seasons. They did not say, "Christmas is here,
because the robins have come near the house, and
the sparrows are making a great chattering and
8-2







A Little Yellow Shoe.

noise in all the hedges in the lanes about;" they
said, "Winter has come, and Christmas will soon
be here, because all the shop windows are beginning
to have pretty Christmas-tree things in them, and
when we go out to walk now we can look in at the
toy-shop window as we pass, and choose our pre-
sents." Cissa made this discovery a week or two
after that rainy evening when she found her Kitty,
and she came back and told the news to Violet and
Winnie, who had not been out walking that day.
They were nearly as glad as country children are
when some one comes in and says, There is a great
deal of ice on the round pond," or The ground was
so slippery early this morning that I nearly made a
long slide all down the kitchen garden." They were
glad because, you know, it is always pleasant to
have something fresh to look at and talk about when
one is out walking; but they were not really in any
hurry to get their Christmas presents, for they were
not the sort of children whose happiness depends
on buying new toys. I don't know whether you
have-observed it, but I have, that the children who
do think a great deal about toys are not the happiest
sort of children. It is not happy for children, or






A Little Yellow Shoe.

grown-up people either, to care too much about the
sort of things they have; it is so much better to be
able to make things nice by what you think about
them; and it was just this that Violet and Cissa
could do very well. All their toys had stories about
them; but it generally happened that the very nicest
stories came to be not about the well-made toys
that had been bought in a London shop, but about
little odd things that they had picked up themselves.
Sometimes it would be a stone which Cissa had
found on the road, that she would put into her best :
box, and call her greatest treasure, for a whole week.
Horse-chestnuts were always great treasures, till
Nurse found out they were mouldy and threw them
out of the window; and next to them came the
little shells that sometimes they were lucky enough
to pick out of gravel-heaps by the roadside. It was
always thought to be a nice walk when they passed
a gravel-heap, and found a shell, and Cissa used to
puzzle people. sometimes by saying that such and
such a thing happened to her the day that Violet
found a purple shell. The real toys were often
stowed away into quite dark corners to make way
for the things they had found; and one day when







A Little Yellow Shoe.

a very smart little girl-whose mamma had come to
call on their mamma-was sent upstairs to play with
them, and they took her to the toy-cupboard, she
said,
"But you have got nothing but rubbish in your
toy-cupboard, there is nothing here to play with."
"Why," said Cissa, "we were playing when'you
came in; don't you see that all our dolls are sitting
round their table and having a great feast?"
"I see nothing," said the smart little girl, "but
queer things, and stones, and shells, and bits of
stick. My dolls drink out of real china tea-things,
and have real plates when they have a feast."
"But our cups and plates are the very reallest,"
said Cissa: "our cups are acorn-cups, that the fairies
really drink out of, you know."
"But you don't think there are such things as
fairies really, do you?" said the smart little girl. And
as Cissa's face got very red, Violet answered quickly,
"Please tell us what you have got in your toy-
cupboard."
"A great many beautiful new toys," said the little
girl, "that were given me on my birthday, and ten
dolls, all big, with real hair, like that one of yours,






A Little Yellow Shoe.

and handsome dresses. I never keep rubbishing
dolls."
"Then it's a pity," said Cissa. "If there is no
one prettier than all the rest, how can they know
which is their mamma? Our mamma is prettier and
has more real hair than anybody, so, of course, our
dolls want as good a mamma as we have."
When Cissa had said this, she shut the toy-cup-
board door, and went away to the window. She felt
she could not tell that little girl the stories that
belonged to all the things on her shelf in the toy-
cupboard, and, above all, she did not want to tell
her what I am going to tell you now-the story of
the thing that Cissa loved so much that she gave it
a comer of the toy-cupboard all to itself, and never
passed a single day without looking at it and talk-
ing to it-" The Story of the Little Yellow Shoe."
A doll's shoe-of course you have guessed that,
and the prettiest little one you can imagine, made
of soft shiny bronze, bound with yellow ribbon,
and worked in coloured silks on the flap, just like
mamma's prettiest morning slippers, and with a
small neat shiny sole too-not a pretending sole,
but made just as if the shoemaker thought the doll







A Little Yellow Shoe.

it was intended for would walk in it. It-but then
what was the use of having only one shoe? So a
great many little girls said to Cissa, and she really
did not know how to answer them; but she said
softly to herself, "Well, but that's just why there is
a story about it: if there were two shoes, and I had
bought them at a shop, that would be all; but one
found shoe is a story, and I don't know the end of
it yet."
The finding had happened a whole'year ago, when
Cissa was still small enough for it to be a new
thing for her to be taken out alone with mamma
when she went to make a call. It was one cold
winter's morning, and they were going to call on
Mrs. Murray, and walked along the same road
where Cissa had been on the day she found her
kitten. The sun shone brightly, but there was a
sprinkling of snow on the frozen pathway, and it
was so slippery and cold that Cissa was glad to
keep at mamma's side, and give one little hand to
be taken warmly inside mamma's sealskin muff. The
other hand was freezing, for though one does not
expect chestnuts, or crimson leaves, or hairy cater-
pillars to drop into one's hand on a winter's day,







A Little Yellow Shoe.

still there might be some curious or pretty things
lying about on the road somewhere, that one would
like to pick up and ask questions about, especially
when one is walking with mamma, who is-oh! so
much better than Nurse for talking over things.
Cissa's brown eyes wandered everywhere: up to
the boughs, which dropped long glittering icicles,
that unfortunately could not be taken home to play
with, down to the smooth tempting-looking ice that
covered the little hollows by the roadside; on to
the stones, on each one of which the frost had drawn
a silver flower. All at once she stopped and gave
a little cry of joy.
"Oh mamma, look, look what I have found!"
She held up something perched on the first finger
of her glove as she spoke, and mamma saw that it
was a very small, very well-made doll's shoe.
"Some little girl must have lost it in passing
along the road this morning," mamma said: "it
must have dropped from a doll's foot, and I don't
think it can have been lying long on the road, it is
so clean and dry."
I wish I could see the little girl, and I would
run after her and give it her back," said Cissa. "It







A Little Yellow Shoe.

must be a lovely doll that this shoe belongs to, and
I think the mamma of it must be a nice little girl
too; where do you think she is, mamma?"
But though mamma and Cissa strained their eyes,
and walked to the only turning near, and looked
down a cross-road, they could see no one. It was
early in the morning and a cold day, and there were
very few people passing along.
"' Mamma," said Cissa at last," do you think the
doll and her mamma live in that house close to
where I picked up the shoe? you see, the garden
gate is a little way beyond; they may have gone in
there, and it is the only garden gate very near.
Shall I go and ask?"
"You may, my dear," said Cissa's mamma; "but
should you like to go to the door by yourself? for
I don't know the people who live in that house."
I think I will go, mamma,"said Cissa in a minute.
"You see, if I were that little girl, and she were me,
and had got my pet doll's shoe, I should like her to
come and give it me. It is only a little way to the
front door. I will go and ring the bell, if you will
stand at the gate and look at me all the time."
Cissa was not a shy child : she liked almost every-






A Little Yellow Shoe.

body, and everybody that I ever heard of that saw
her liked her, so why should she be afraid of speak-
ing when she had something to say? and yet when
she stood on the door-step alone, and pulled a big
bell and heard what a noise it made inside the large
house, she was a little startled, and looked back
wistfully at mamma standing by the gate. Presently
a tall footman came to the door, and looked sur-
prised to find that the loud ring had been made by
such a very little person as Cissa.
"Please," said Cissa, "is there any little girl in
this house whose doll has lost her shoe ?"
The footman smiled. "I don't think there is
anybody here that can have lost such a thing as this.
I will go in and inquire, if you like to step inside the
hall, little miss."
No, thank you," said Cissa, I had rather stand
on the step, for then I can see my mamma all the
time, who is waiting for me at the garden gate."
The man left the door open, and Cissa could see
into a large hall with tables and chairs and a fire-
place, and sticks and hats; but no doll's perambu-
lator that might have belonged to the owner of the
little yellow shoe which she held in her hand,







A Little Yellow Shoe.

Presently a door opened, and an old lady with a
shawl thrown over her head came out. I think the
footman must have told her what a very nice little girl
there was standing on the doorstep, for though she
was quite old, she hurried across the hall, and went
to the open door, and took the little hand that Cissa
held out to her with the doll's shoe in it. She did
not look at the doll's shoe, though: she looked at
Cissa's face.
My dear," she said, "there are no little girls,
only old people, living in this house. I had a little
grandchild with me once, but that is a long time
ago, and I don't think it can be anything of hers you
have found. Come in, however, and warm your-
self in my sitting-room, and we will talk about it."
No, thank you," said Cissa. My mamma is
waiting for me at the garden gate, and if there is
no little girl and no doll in this house, I will go
back to her."
The old lady stooped down and kissed Cissa's
cheek before she let her go. Such a soft kiss it
was like grandmamma's; and then Cissa skipped
down the steps and got to the gate in a minute.
Mamma," she said, as they were walking away,







A Little Yellow Shoe.

"now that I have done all I can think of to find the
doll that wears the other shoe, do you think I may
keep this little one for myself?"
"I think you may," mamma said, "for I am sure
that if you should meet a little girl at any of the
Christmas parties you are invited to, who tells you
she has lost a doll's shoe, and this one proves to be
it, you will be glad to give it back to her."
"Oh! yes, that I shall, mamma; for do you
know, I think it can't be a common doll that wears
such shoes. I think it must be the very best-dressed
doll in all England; and if I give it back one of its
best shoes, its mamma will be so much obliged to
me that I am sure we shall get to be friends. There
must, you kno*, mamma, be such a little girl and
such a doll somewhere, and I shall go on thinking
about them until I find them."
All the rest of that winter, whenever Violet and
Cissa went to spend an afternoon with any of their
little friends, they said before they went, Perhaps
we shall find them;" but though they questioned
every owner of a doll they came across, there was
not one who could lay claim to a pair of shoes with
such neat soles, or with such elegant work at the top,








A Little Yellow Stoe.

as had this one that Cissa had found. The longer
the little shoe stayed in Cissa's keeping the more
she liked it, and the more numerous were the stories
and fancies that grew up about it in her little mind.
At last she hardly liked to tell even Violet all she
thought about it; shoes, you know, are really such
fairy things: there was Cinderella's shoe-and once
Cissa heard Uncle Francis telling mamma what he
called the oldest story of Cinderella, and that story
was about a bird bringing a tiny shoe from a very
long way off, and dropping it down into a King's
lap. Uncle Francis wondered why Cissa listened
to this talk with such an eager look in her brown
eyes. She was thinking, perhaps-perhaps-her
little shoe might have come from a very long way
off, from some beautiful, magicky sort of a place,
where dolls were made more like real people, and
could even walk about on their well-soled shoes,
and now and then, perhaps, talk and eat a little. If
one bird flew away with a shoe and dropped it on a
King's lap, why should not another have let a doll's
shoe fall on a shiny road that Cissa was walking
along?
When summer came, and the little girls went into







A Little Yellow Shoe.

the country to stay with grandpapa, Cissa left off
thinking so much about the yellow shoe; but now
that they were settled at home again, and the bad
weather obliged them to spend a good deal of time
at the toy-cupboard, Cissa had taken it out of its
corner, and dusted it fresh, and put it in its old
place, where she could always see it the first thing
on opening the cupboard door.
When another Christmas came, and parties, she
did not forget to look about among all the dolls
that accompanied their mothers to the entertain-
ments, to see if there was a "Goody One-Shoe "
among them. But now, it must be confessed, she
always felt glad when she saw two bare or two well-
shod doll's feet: after all her fancies, it would have
been trying to have to give up the lovely shoe to a
commonplace doll who could do nothing with it.
After that Christmas something quite new hap-
pened in Violet's and Cissa's lives: it came sud-
denly, or seemed to do so, as I think important
things often do. One morning mamma came into
the nursery soon after breakfast, with two new little
black velvet hats in her hand, and two new little
white fur jackets.







A Little Yellow Shoe.

"I am come," she said, smiling, "to see whether
these warm hats and jackets will fit two little school-
girls who will want them every morning now to go
to school in."
Violet's face grew very red at these words, and
her eyes sparkled, for the one thing she had been
wishing for for a long time was to go to school and
learn with other little girls; but Cissa, who was sit-
ting on the floor with her kitten on her lap, looked
rather grave. She did not know how she could bear
to leave it, and the toy-cupboard, and little Winnie
for the whole morning.
Mamma," she said, "Violet can be a schoolgirl
to-day if you like, because she has made believe to
be one till she is quite ready; but I am not a bit
ready: just now I am my Kitty's cat-mother, and
by-and-bye I shall put on my boots and begin to
kill some giants. I can't feel schoolgirly all in a
moment."
"Very well, Cissa," said mamma, laughing, "you
need not feel schoolgirl unless you like; you shall
put on your new fur jacket, however, and go with
me to Violet's school, and if you don't like it better
than any place y6u have ever been in, you shan't







A Little Yellow Shoe.

stay. There is a carriage at the door waiting to
take us."
It was a large carriage, a sort of omnibus, and
inside it there were already two little girls and their
mammas, and by-and-bye the carriage stopped, and
another little girl and a tiny boy got in. The carriage
belonged to the school, and every morning went
round to pick up the little scholars. Was not that
nice to begin and end one's school morning with a
carriage ride? The little girls, who had all been to
this school before, had books and little baskets in
their hands, and Cissa already began to think she
liked their looks. One of the little girls who sat
next Cissa had a little box in her hand, and by-and-
bye she opened the lid and invited Cissa to peep
in. There was a little clay lamb and a bird with
wings in the box.
"Oh!" said Cissa, "where did you buy those
lovely things? and may you take them with you to
school ?"
"Buy them!" said the little girl, "why, I made
them myself at school yesterday, and to-day we are
going to make some still better ones. Mine are for
my grandmamma."
4







A Little Yellow Shoe.

"Oh!" said Cissa, "shall I learn to make lambs
and birds if I go to school?"
Of course you will if you are not stupid," said
the little girl. You shall sit next me and I'll show
you."
From that minute Cissa felt very schoolgirly, and
gave up all thought of going back in the carriage
with mamma. It certainly was worth while to leave
the toy-cupboard and Kitty for a little while, to
learn to be as clever as that. Even Violet, who had
been making up stories about schools and school-
fellows for a whole year, was not a bit disappointed
in the school her mamma had chosen for her and
Cissa to go to. It was what is called a Kindergarten
School, and I could tell you a great deal about the
songs the children sang, arid the pleasant easylessons
they learned, and the pretty things their little fingers
were trained to make; but if I do that I shall forget
the yellow shoe, and as my story is to be about that,
I will leave out all I might say of the school-hours,
and only tell you what used to happen during one
part of the morning, when the classes were broken
up, and the children were sent away to rest and
amuse themselves for half an hour, and eat the







A Little Yellow Shoe.

biscuits, or bread and butter, or cake that most of
them had brought with them in little baskets. You
will believe that Violet and Cissa had a basket, and
that their mamma always put a nice luncheon in for
them. Sometimes it was slices of bread and two
apples, sometimes a biscuit and an orange to divide
between them, or two sponge cakes. The children
sat on their low benches to eat their luncheons, and
as you can imagine, they peeped into each other's
baskets, and you might have heard a good deal of
chattering and talk about what was in them.
"I have brought cake to-day for myself and for
you all," one little child would say to her friends,
"because it's my birthday."
And another child would take a pictured box
from her basket, and tell her next neighbour as she
handed it round, "Grandmamma came to see us
yesterday, and that is how I come by a box of choco-
late to divide amongst us."
All the little girls and boys in turn had some
pleasant news of this kind, and something to show
that brought smiles on all the faces round, except
one little girl, and she never had anything to show
or to give away, and she never brought a basket to
4-2







A Little Yellow Shoe.

school with her at all She said, when the other
children asked her, that she did not care to eat in
school-hours: she was never hungry; and when the
little bell rang and the other children ran for their
baskets, she used to go quite to the other end of the
room by the fire, and sit all by herself with a picture-
book in her hand for the whole of the resting-time.
If she had been the sort of little girl who cares for
a story-book more than for anything else, Violet,
who loved books herself, would not have been sur-
prised; but she was not that sort of child. She
read very badly indeed, and though she was as tall
and as old as Violet, she was a long way below Cissa
in all the classes. She never seemed at all to care
for what "she was doing, and sometimes Cissa felt
almost surprised that the lady who taught them
could help being a little angry when she brought
up the patterns she was pricking wrong every time,
'and never had anything to show but an ugly lump
of clay at the end of their lesson in modelling, instead
of a pretty little plum, or an apple, or a bird, or a
basket. Cissa thought sometimes she should like
to give her a little shake to wake her up, and make
her see how nice and easy and pleasant to do all







A Little Yellow Shoe.

the lessons were; but the kind teacher only patted
the pale dull little girl's head, and said,
"Some day, my dear, I hope you will be able to
give your mind to what you are doing, and then you
will be much happier and get on better with us all."
Minnie Nugent was the dull little girl's name.
None of the other children in the school liked her,
though they said they had all tried to make friends
with her when she first came, because somebody
said she had no mamma.
It's no use," they said to Violet and Cissa, when
they wanted to run across the room and offer her
some of the good things in their baskets; "we've
all tried, and it's no use: she never has anything of
her own, and she won't take our things, she's so
proud and disagreeable."
Cissa did not trouble herself more about Minnie
after hearing this. There were so many pleasant,
kind, merry children in the school, that she soon
ceased to take any notice of the dull little girl;
Violet, however, who was a little shy herself, and
who could not make friends with everybody in a
minute like Cissa, went on feeling very sorry for
Minnie, and used often to sit and watch her while







A Little Yellow Shoe.

the other girls were playing. She often even tried
to get a place near her when the children were
gathered round the long low table, and were busied
in making paper mats, or in pricking patterns on
cardboard, or in drawing pictures on their slates;
now and then when she was getting on very well
herself, and Minnie was doing her work very badly,
she pushed a well-pointed pencil, or a large sharp
pin, or needle ready threaded with coloured worsted,
near her, just to help her on a little bit. At first
Minnie took no notice, but went on scratching with
her bad pencil, or sewing with the wrong coloured
worsted; at last one day she put out her hand and
took the offered pencil, with a quick, frightened
look at Violet-just such a look as a little mouse
or a shy bird gives the first time it ventures to eat
out of your hand. The next time Violet threaded
a needle for Minnie, there was a smile as well as a
quick look; and about a week after that, one day
when they were sitting close together at a spelling
lesson, Violet felt a small trembling hand slipped
into hers under the table, and when her own warm
fingers closed over it, gave them such a squeeze that
Violet nearly cried out. The odd thing was, that







A Little Yellow Shoe.

Violet, who was the best speller in the school, made
bad mistakes; but Minnie, who had never done
anything well before, answered so perfectly all day
as to surprise the whole school, and each time that
the teacher praised her, she tightened her hold on
Violet's hand.
"Mamma," said Violet when her mamma came
to see her late that night in bed, I have got some-
thing important to tell you. To-day I have chosen
the dull little girl for my friend, and, mamma, I
don't mean that ever, ever, she shall be called the
dull little girl again. She is not going to be dull
any more."
I don't know how Violet managed it, but certainly
in a little while a very different way of speaking of
Minnie Nugent prevailed in the school. "Minnie
Sis Violet's friend," the other children said, and that
seemed to everybody enough to say about her,
especially as every day she grew brighter and brighter
in lesson-hours, and more like other children in the
plays. Of course you will have guessed that the
very day after Violet called Minnie her friend, she
and Cissa sat by her side at luncheon-time, and
shared the contents of their baskets among them.







A Little Yellow Shoe.

"How could we be friends without sharing?"
Violet asked; and Minnie could not but agree, and
she never afterwards made the least objection to
sharing everything as a sister with Violet and Cissa.
' Perhaps mamma took care to cut larger slices of
bread and cake and to pick out the largest apples
to put into the school luncheon-basket, for there
always seemed as much for three as there had been
for two, though the little girls would not have a
separate luncheon packed up for Minnie.
"She would not like it," said Violet: "it would
put her in mind that she has no mamma; and be-
sides, we always have enough: I think there always
seems to be more when one shares."
"Violet does not learn logic at her school," said
Uncle Francis, smiling: "she thinks that a part can
be greater than the whole."
And so it is, Uncle Francis," said Cissa, stoutly,
"when you give the other part to a little girl who
has no mamma."
But now I must tell you that Minnie had a mamma
after all, though it was not until she and Violet had
been friends for a month that Minnie took courage
to speak of her. The reason pf this was that







A Little Yellow Shoe.

Minnie's mamma was a very, very long way off, in
Japan, and that Minnie's heart was still so sore from
the parting, though it had taken place a whole year
before, that she could not bring herself to speak
about it to any one but a dearest friend. Minnie
began to talk about her mother to Violet and Cissa
one rainy afternoon, when the omnibus was so full
that it had to make two journeys, and the three little
friends chanced to be left alone for some time in
the big school-room. Having once begun, Minnie
told a great deal that interested Violet and Cissa
very much, about the beautiful foreign home she had
been brought up in, where her papa and mamma
lived like a king and queen; about the beautiful
flowers that grew in her garden, and the toys-better
than English toys-she had had in her nursery.
She told them too how there had been an earth-
quake once, and papa caught her up in his arms
and ran out of the house with her, and mamma
followed, carrying baby; and how at another time
there had been a fire and great confusion, and how
she and nurse had been lost for a time, and poor
mamma was so frightened that people said she
would never have-a colour in her cheeks again.







A Little Yellow Shoe.

"After that dreadful fire time," Minnie continued,
"I was very ill, and, what was still worse, papa was
very ill at the same time. I don't know how my
mamma managed, because I can't recollect very
well what happened. Whenever I opened my eyes,
she was near me; but I know she must often have
been near papa too, for I have heard that he was
worse than I was. I think I can recollect a day
when I was lifted from my bed and carried some-
where, and I am almost sure I know it was mamma
herself who undressed me and put me in a new little
bed; but after that I remember nothing but a long,
long night, and there were dreadful noises in my
ears, and everything moved about so that I dare
not lift my head from the pillow for a moment. At
last it seemed to be morning, and I knew that I
was in a very odd little bed, with white dimity
curtains, and I called out for some one to come to
me, and a lady came; but, oh!- not mamma."
"She was not dead?" said Cissa, softly.
"Oh! no, no !" cried Minnie; "mamma is alive
and quite well, and papa is well now, but they are
in Japan; and when I woke up, I was in a ship
going to England, and already we had got a long,








A Little Yellow Shoe.

long way across the sea. I never said good bye to
her, you see. I never gave her a kiss."
S"But she gave you lots of kisses, I'm sure," said
Cissa, "when she put you into that little bed."
"Yes," said Minnie, "I know she did, and she
did another thing-she put a beautiful doll by my
side in the bed, to comfort me when I began to get
well; and oh! I did love her so. Until I knew
Violet and you, Cissa, that doll was my only friend.
You see, she had been in my house, and my mamma
had dressed her, and baby had touched her, so I
could talk to her about them all. I don't generally
show her to people, and I only took her out once
for a walk, when a misfortune happened; but I will
show her to you one day. Mamma made all the
white clothes, but the others were made by a tailor
who lives in our house, and they are beautifully
made."
"Shoes ?" asked Cissa, and her heart beat so fast
that she could hardly get out the word.
"Yes," said Minnie, "the prettiest shoes you
ever saw in your life; but- "
"Yellow ones ?" interrupted Cissa, for she really
could not keep quiet; "were they yellow, with







A Little Yellow Shoe.

roses worked on the flaps, and real soles, and did
you lose one on the London road one snowy day
last winter ?"
"Yes, I did," said Minnie, "and I have never
taken my doll out to walk since, it made me so un-
happy. It was just after I came to England, and
my hands were so cold that day, I could not hold
my doll properly. It is a great pity, for I feel ready
to cry now whenever I look at my dear doll's one
bare foot."
"You shall never cry about that again," said
Cissa, "for, Minnie, I found the little yellow shoe,
and it is safe in my cupboard this minute, and you
shall have it whenever you like."
You can picture to yourself how glad Minnie was,
and what an affectionate kiss she gave Cissa, and
how the children agreed that it would not do to
bring the little yellow shoe to school, but that Violet
and Cissa should tell its story to their mamma, and
beg her to invite Minnie to spend the next half-
holiday at their house, and bring the doll to have
its lost shoe put on. That was the first of a great
many happy half-holidays spent by Minnie Nugent
at Violet's and Cissa's house. There was a great







A Little Yellow Shoe.

ceremony about putting on the lost shoe: all the
other dolls from the cupboard looked on, and con-
gratulated the travelled doll on being able to walk
again. Then they sat down to the grandest doll's
feast that had ever been seen in the nursery.
Aunt Lilla had heard the story from mamma in a
letter, and she had sent a box from the country on
purpose for the occasion, with little cakes in it, and
little loaves of bread, and little pats of butter, and
little pots of preserve, the prettiest you ever saw,
and a store ot acorn-cups as well, especially for
Cissa, who was glad to find that Minnie admired
them as much as she did, and was so far from calling
them rubbish that she gave the travelled doll one to
drink from instead of a china cup.
Every one was pleased with the change in Minnie
after Violet took her for her friend. She did not
think less about her papa and mamma and brothers
and sisters in Japan, but she was not unhappy, for
she could now make nice plans with Violet about
seeing them again. It was quite forgotten in the
school that she had ever been called the dull little
girl, for though she was never quite so quick as
Violet, and did not care about her lessons so much







A Little Yellow Shoe.

as did Cissa, she cared very much for standing
between Violet and Cissa in the class; and as they
always took good places, she worked hard to keep
up with them. In a little while she was able to
write beautiful long letters to her mamma in Japan
-letters that told every single thing she thought
and did, and that were read over and over again by
her papa and mamma, and loved better than story-
books by her little brothers and sisters. Violet's
name and Cissa's came very often into these letters,
as you may suppose, and by-and-bye were almost as
well known in a nursery a long, long way off, as
they were at home.
"We are going to England one day," Minnie's
little brothers and sisters used to say, to see Violet
and Cissa."
But before they came to England something else
came to Minnie's two friends, which I must tell you
about. It happened on a birthday of Violet's, about
a year after she went to school. When she opened
her eyes early in the morning she saw a large box
standing on a chair near her bed. One is not very
much surprised, you know, to see a thing like that
on one's birthday morning; but there was some-







A Little Yellow Shoe.

thing unusual in the look of this box: the marks on
it, and the string it was tied with, and the way it
was fastened, showed that it had not come from
any shop in London. Of course, before Violet
examined further, she awoke Cissa and Winnie.
They crept from their beds and stood near while
she undid the fastenings and drew off the lid. Just
inside was a bit of paper, on which was written,
"From some one at the other side of the world
who loves Violet;" then came a quantity of odd
soft paper, and underneath were three beautiful
dolls, all splendidly dressed, and all wearing exactly
such sweet little shoes on their feet as the yellow
one which Cissa had kept for a whole year in the
toy-cupboard, and made up so many stories about.





THE END.









































































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