|Newspaper Title||Illustrated Sydney News (NSW: 1881-1894)|
|Trove Title||A Girl Named Bobbie|
A Girl Named Bobbie.
It's a sorrowful ditty
I'll sing to you now, It's about an old man
Who had but one cow ;
He oftentimes brought her
To the byre to be fed,
But now, to his great grief,
His p-o-o-r cow is dead.
Arrah-Drimmin Dubh-a-r-agra, Arrah-Drimmin Dubh-a-r-agra, Arrah-Drimmin Deelish, Wurusthu ma cree.
" Oh, Bobbie, do stop it ; I never heard such an unearthly thing ; if you must sing, do give us something cheerful."
But Bobbie looked and felt anything but cheerful, and though she stopped for a few minutes at Ted's impatient interrup- tion, she began droning away at the ditty and beating a mournful accompaniment on the window pane.
Everything had gone wrong with Bobbie to-day; she had overslept herself for one thing, and been late for breakfast. She had torn her dress in the garden, and Bertha said she was to mend it before she
went out again with the boys ; the mail
had come in and there was no letter from her father, and worst of all, the doctor had just said very decidedly that if Miss Crawford, her daily governess, did not give a good report of her to him the next day, he should send her to a day school.
Now Bobbie, though possessing very fair abilities, was shockingly idle and inatten- tive, and the mere idea of regular school instead of the skirmishing with lessons that was now the order of the day, made
And whenever Bobbie Lennox was miser- able she used to croon and drone in a melancholy key the tune the old cow died of,-she said it seemed to comfort her.
Arrah-Drimmin Deelish Wurusthu ma cree.
These last lines died away in a kind of melancholy wail, for Bobbie was just thinking of the pile of lessons that had to be done, and of all that depended on them.
" I say, Bobbie, stop that row," said Ted, coming in at that moment-" there's some- thing almost uncanny in it."
"I should think I can sing, if I like," said Bobbie in an injured tone, " I don't interfere with any noise you make, and then, perversely, she began again
Her sides they were short And her tail it was long,
" All right," cried Ted, " I was going to give you something, and now I won't."
" Oh, yes," said Bobbie scornfully, " of course you were."
Arrah, Drimmin Deelish, Wutusthu ma cree-e-e-e.
There was a wild shriek of delight at the last word, for Ted was flourishing a foreign letter in his hand.
" Give it me," she cried imperiously, as Ted began to dance about holding it up.
"Couldn't think of it, my pretty one, not till lessons are done," he said, aggra- vatingly, and Bobbie sprang on him like a young tigress. There was a minute's struggle, and then Ted called out to Bon- nie, who was lying on the hearthrug, to
catch the letter.
Across the room the precious missive was
flung, it whizzed just over Frank's blonde head, and fell into the heart of the glow- ing fire.
Poor Bobbie 1 Poor Ted! The one
dropped in a little heap on the floor and began to cry, the other, horrified at the result of his teasing,sprang to the fireplace and made a vain attempt to rescue the un- fortunate letter. It was curling: up and blazing merrily, and Ted, all repentance, plunged his little brown band right on the glowing coals and drew out the blackened fragments ; poor little hand, it was terribly burnt, but he pressed it manfu'ly behind him and turned to Bobby. " I I'm awfully sorry, Bobbie" he faltered, but the girl took no notice and sat sobbing bitterly, her head on her kneed and the shower of red-gold hair falling around
*' Bobbie I'm awfully sorry,-oh Bobbie, dear, don't cry so 1 You can have my guinea pig and Dick Dead-eye, anything I've got," said poor. Ted again. Bobbie did not notice how white the boy had turned,-he was terribly sick and giddy with the pain, and when he put his left hand on her nead and tried to make her look up, she sprang up again fiercely.
Bonnie, who had no ^dea of the hotness of Bobbie's Irish blood, looked quite frightened at her dark blazing eyes, and with his innate hatred of quarrels and scenes, ran out into the garden after Frank.
" You hoirid little boy," she panted ; " my letter, the only one I shall get for six weeks, you did it on purpose, you hate- ful wretched boy,'' and then, as he took a step towards her to try to assure her it had been an accident, she pushed him passion- ately away. It WUB not a very violent push, but the boj'- was not himself, and fell heavily to the ground, striking his head a slight blow on the edge of the fender. Bobbie wes sobered in a moment and crept in terror to his side. He was lying as he had fallen, his little brown face deadly white, his eyes closed, and from his fore- head a little stream of blood was oozing and trickling amongst tho thick, dark curly
(TO BE CONTINUED.)