|Newspaper Title||The Darling Downs Gazette and General Advertiser (Toowoomba, Qld. : 1858 - 1880)|
|Trove Title||Mysie and Mirrie|
^Mm&**nxs, Ac«hoe of 'Fiass
?; Ceapxek I.
|#MJW»,.«de.»y side— Mysie, aged ?||1^ younger, The -eldest was a tall, |*6W, fallow little maiden, with a face p*t Jn ft mould of peculiar, gravity, and - '^V*.Sm nfMiimu Miujr fives. Thfl
*f\'jj-tSier child— shorter, plumper, fairer— « ' jjtongf to %jw wistfully. 4|»i.'§(s33io nursery was situated at the very 'K'-ijIopjoi ft tall house iu a fashionable Si^juwpter of London. A good mauy '? 'toyelay strewn about, and piled-up S ' chairs told of a recent game at make i' believe travelling. But the children ^L iv$retiredofnlay, and wanted somebody ?* io come to them, and they had settled ?:'? , themselves down upon the ground to ft perplexed consideration of the pre 'v- Bent iinwonted state of affairs, for they bwNieeii left alone nearly two t ' whole, hou«j9&vd it seeined a dreadful ?- jt^Uns'to MraiSaud Mirric that no one ??'j^phould come Sear them all that while. ?^(Hr ':£t was longer than two hours, for ' ^WF three whole days, since they lutapeen their mother aud since they had received the order to remain alto ^j^etherjjteSJbjtaJurserv, and never to ? . :?' nffi/jfiPj^flj^iynrpr gave them lenvc, f f ifc^^SyMrrie were both obedient ii.jji' chfBlp»F&11|l ?* did 'ot eveu ell-er their 'ininds to transgress this coin m paud; but it certainly did soein to ?them that things looked rather odd. Therbom was growing dark, and no candles were alight. The fire, too, had i 3W.k dismally low, with large hollows * * dSirji(g wtweeu the dull red coals ' ?whlfeh still remained piled together, jUioaSi. threAtening each moment to colBpiSJnto amcre heap of fading embers? *W hy did not somebodv come to poke them up ? Mysie and 'Mime, being stictly forbidden' to handle fire irons, could do nothing but gaze long ingly at the strange red caverns, which were all tliat remained of once bright flames. ' 'Mirrie,'' said Mysie, suddenly. ' I
Jgfa castle. JBSS^jlp you?' said Mirrie, opening S^HBfHfl eyes very wide, in hopes of *;':*7'Ye&4n the fire,'' weut ou My sic i. ai :a dreamy tone. 'Such a high , castle, and it's' all burning ! And there's a little black man. with a flag in his hand, standing ai one corner. He can't get down, you know. And when the castle tumbles io pieces. :is tt$s sure to do soon, he'll be killed.' i *? ' Is he a real man r' asked Mirrie. I , in an awerstruck.wflT. ? 'No; but ilike to make believe he's | real,' said Mysic. j 'I wish the fire wouldn't «' quite | oat,' said Mirrie, after trying in vain i to discover the little black man, '' and then we shouldn't be in the dark.' 'It won't yet.' returned Mysio. 'My castle takes some time burning.' j 'Only jt'« getting very dark, you know,' said Mirrie. ' 1 do wish nurse would come !' Perhaps Mirrie' s words set off Mysie on another tack. Her next remark ? mis nffored iu a verv solemn, sombre
Toice. 'Mfrrie, do you know it is throe ;„ wl»le days, aud' it'll be four tonior rw, since mamma came to sec us. ' '.'Is it?'' said Mirrie. i 'Yes, I know it is, because 1 lisivo : couni»d.» The first night you cried because mamma didn't come to sec you '? in bed ; and the next night Dolly broke ; ?her arm,' and nurse gave us each n ? eugar-plum; and there is to-night as | V ' well — that makes three.' j H . 'Why doesn't- mamma eouii', My- i ??' i.eic?' ' -! 'Nobody seems to know.' said Mysie, putting on a curious, oldfash .-? * ioned manner quite beyond her age, ' butS think I do.' r JTRtf|fou ? Oh, tell me. Mysie. , =. please ! Is she going io come soon ':' j g; 'I only, think I know,' said My sic. ! J; Tory deUberatclv j ' I don't say I do | t- ' know. But I think— I think mamma % is staying away from us— because— because' — the youuger's child's eyes \ were fastened eagerly on Mysie's — — 'because sho doesn't love us like \.. other little girls' mammas do,' con h ?? '_? eluded the elder, child, in a hushed I* voice. fev :-v - «»oesii'tshe?' jt; ;: .'-'. ... ' I only say I think, you know.' SJ| -.- - *? Won t mamma ever come again ?' Kfi 7 flsVed Mirrie, her blue eyes widening, B*?f^WIHliDtwifli tears. , \ksfilii?:2f''%&-iph o»y, perhaps, Baid Mysie. B^^ft*lw..'l6ok1 there's my castle gone I^^^^K^Andis the little black man burnt?' ^P#^ffl^Murie,anxiou8ly. ?P&SISHFwih-I ^on't know-on, no, he's ^^^^J^bladc nan and his melancholy ?MmSpPaGlfaifiia tiie ruins of his faUen ^HHBS^^t^ foreotten5. for M^K|^,anl nurse came in. BHnuitiMJ'' onedMirne, jumping ^BS^iMlnibliittg i« her side ; ' I «m so
but two little rough jackets, and two little hats, and two little red shawls, and two little neck-ties, and two paira of gloves, and laid them all ou the bod. And then two little umbrellas were laid alongside, as if ready for use, and two warm veils were tied upon the two little brown hate by nurse's busy fingers. Mysie could keep silence no longer. ' Nurse, are you looking to see if my things want mending?' ' Well, I did see a hole just now in the sleeve of your jacket,' said nurse. ' It'll have to be.meudcd by-aud-by.' But all the thiugs evidently had not holes in them, and yet nurse nut none of them away again. The children ate in auiHzed silence. ' Now then !' said nurse. ' You're not going to take us out walking now .'' said Mysio, in be wilderment, as nurse handed her one jacket, aud proceeded to dress Mirrie iu the other. 'Well, perhaps not exactly,' said nurse. ' It's rather lato and dark ; but what do you say to a drive ?' 'Is mnmiiia going to take us?' asked Mirrie, with great eagerness. ' Why, no— slieV busy,' snid nurse; ' but she sent you her love, and said you was to go quiet, and not to make any fuss.' ' How long will the drive be ?' asked Mysie.. 'Ah, you'll soon see that,' said nurse, smiling, though Mysie thought somehow she didn't look very happy. ' Just wait and see what you'll find at the eud of it !' ' What shall we r' asked Mirrie. ' That's what you have to guess,' said nurse, nodding her head. ? Mysie and Mirrie almost felt as if they were playing a game, and they went ou dressing quite briskly. They could not think what it all meant. Hut it did not soem so much like a game when nurse took their hands, and led them soberly downstairs. She told them not to make any noise by the way. How eagerly they both looked out, ui hopes of the least little glimpse of their mother's face or dress; but she wa* nowhere to be seen. Straight down-stairs, and along the
passage, till tlio hall-door was reached, weut nurse, and the two children went with her. ' Now put on your shawls, uiy dears, because it is cold outside,' she said. . ' But, nurse, aren t you comuig it mamma isn't r' cried 'Mirrie; 'you haven't got your bonnet on.' '? I'm not coming just now,' said nurse. '? I don't want to go without you. Oh, please '.' implored Mirrie, bursting into tears. ' Miss Mysie is going to take such care of you, ' said nurse. ' Tliei-e now. my dear, you're not going in cry. Why. you outfit to like a nice drive! Think 'linw funny the shops will all lonk by ^is-lisht ! And 1 here's a kind person going to take care of you, so you won't be alone. 'A. kind person:' A stranger! Mysie and Mirrie had a horror of strangers. ' Who is slier' asked Mysie. ?? Her name iff Stephens,' said nurse. 'I'm not ffoiiiL',1' said Mvsie. step
ping back. ' Miss Mysie. _\ ou munt.' said nurse, gravely, ''it is your mamma's wish.' And without moi-eado, nurse opened the front door. A rush of cold wind cjnne pom-ing iji irmn the ft-osty atmosphere. Nurse lifted up Mirrie in her arms, carried her outside, and put her into the carriage, which stood there. Mysie followed without another word. and. disdaining all assistance, climbed in after. Mirrie's little fingers were clasping nurse's hand convul sivelv. Somebody in a shawl and a very'big poke-bonnet was seated with her back to the horses. ' You'll take good cure of the chil dren. Mrs. Stephens r' ' I'll take care,' said a queer gruff voice. It was much too dark to sec the face which belonged Io the voice. ' And don't let them be left to themselves much, please ; they ain't used to it. ' 'All right,' said the queer voice, rather impatiently. ' Good -live, Mrs. Nurse. Tell the man to be off.' '? Oli, no, no, no !' screamed Mirrie, iii overpowering fear. ' Oh, nurse, oh, nurse !' ' There now, my dear ; you'll soon be back, if all's' well,' said nurse. ' Don't crv now. Your mamma hoped you'd be good children. Lot go, my dear, or 'the wheel will be over my foot.' Mirrie was far too much alarmed to liave the least intention of letting go. But a hand was stretched out from the gruff- voiced individual, and her grasp was quietly and firmly loosened. Another moment, and the door was closed ; nurse was out of sight ; and the carriage had started. But where were the children going ?