: Young Lucretia and Other Stories by Freeman Mary Eleanor Wilkins - Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Children Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; New England Social life and customs Juvenile fiction

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YOUNG LUCRETIA HOW FIDELIA WENT TO THE STORE ANN MARY; HER TWO THANKSGIVINGS ANN LIZY'S PATCHWORK THE LITTLE PERSIAN PRINCESS WHERE THE CHRISTMAS-TREE GREW WHERE SARAH JANE'S DOLL WENT SEVENTOES' GHOST LITTLE MIRANDY, AND HOW SHE EARNED HER SHOES A PARSNIP STEW THE DICKEY BOY A SWEET-GRASS BASKET MEHITABLE LAMB

YOUNG LUCRETIA

"Who's that little gal goin' by?" said old Mrs. Emmons.

"That--why, that's young Lucretia, mother," replied her daughter Ann, peering out of the window over her mother's shoulder. There was a fringe of flowering geraniums in the window; the two women had to stretch their heads over them.

"Poor little soul!" old Mrs. Emmons remarked further. "I pity that child."

"I don't see much to pity her for," Ann returned, in a voice high-pitched and sharply sweet; she was the soprano singer in the village choir. "I don't see why she isn't taken care of as well as most children."

"Well, I don't know but she's took care of, but I guess she don't get much coddlin'. Lucretia an' Maria ain't that kind--never was. I heerd the other day they was goin' to have a Christmas-tree down to the school-house. Now I'd be will-in' to ventur' consider'ble that child don't have a thing on't."

"Well, if she's kept clean an' whole, an' made to behave, it amounts to a good deal more'n Christmas presents, I suppose." Ann sat down and turned a hem with vigor: she was a dress-maker.

"Well, I s'pose it does, but it kinder seems as if that little gal ought to have somethin'. Do you remember them little rag babies I used to make for you, Ann? I s'pose she'd be terrible tickled with one. Some of that blue thibet would be jest the thing to make it a dress of."

"Now, mother, you ain't goin' to fussing. She won't think anything of it."

"Yes, she would, too. You used to take sights of comfort with 'em." Old Mrs. Emmons, tall and tremulous, rose up and went out of the room.

"She's gone after the linen pieces," thought her daughter Ann. "She is dreadfully silly." Ann began smoothing out some remnants of blue thibet on her lap. She selected one piece that she thought would do for the dress.

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