<h2><SPAN name="ABOUT_ANGELS" id="ABOUT_ANGELS">ABOUT ANGELS</SPAN></h2>
<p><span class="upper">“Mother</span>,” said
the child; “are
there really angels?”</p>
<p>“The Good
Book says so,”
said the mother.</p>
<p>“Yes,” said the child; “I have seen
the picture. But did you ever see one,
mother?”</p>
<p>“I think I have,” said the mother; “but
she was not dressed like the picture.”</p>
<p>“I am going to find one!” said the
child. “I am going to run along the road,
miles, and miles, and miles, until I find an
angel.”</p>
<p>“That will be a good plan!” said the
mother. “And I will go with you, for
you are too little to run far alone.”</p>
<p>“I am not little any more!” said the
child. “I have trousers; I am big.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“So you are!” said the mother. “I
forgot. But it is a fine day, and I should
like the walk.”</p>
<p>“But you walk so slowly, with your
lame foot.”</p>
<p>“I can walk faster than you think!”
said the mother.</p>
<p>So they started, the child leaping and
running, and the mother stepping out so
bravely with her lame foot that the child
soon forgot about it.</p>
<p>The child danced on ahead, and presently
he saw a chariot coming towards
him, drawn by prancing white horses.
In the chariot sat a splendid lady in
velvet and furs, with white plumes waving
above her dark hair. As she moved
in her seat, she flashed with jewels and
gold, but her eyes were brighter than her
diamonds.</p>
<p>“Are you an angel?” asked the child,
running up beside the chariot.</p>
<p>The lady made no reply, but stared
coldly at the child: then she spoke a word
to her coachman, and he flicked his whip,
and the chariot rolled away swiftly in a
cloud of dust, and disappeared.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The dust filled the child’s eyes and
mouth, and made him choke and sneeze.
He gasped for breath, and rubbed his
eyes; but presently his mother came up,
and wiped away the dust with her blue
gingham apron.</p>
<p>“That was not an angel!” said the child.</p>
<p>“No, indeed!” said the mother. “Nothing
like one!”</p>
<p>The child danced on again, leaping and
running from side to side of the road,
and the mother followed as best she
might.</p>
<p>By and by the child met a most beautiful
maiden, clad in a white dress. Her
eyes were like blue stars, and the blushes
came and went in her face like roses looking
through snow.</p>
<p>“I am sure you must be an angel!” cried
the child.</p>
<p>The maiden blushed more sweetly than
before. “You dear little child!” she cried.
“Some one else said that, only last evening.
Do I really look like an angel?”</p>
<p>“You <em>are</em> an angel!” said the child.</p>
<p>The maiden took him up in her arms
and kissed him, and held him tenderly.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“You are the dearest little thing I ever
saw!” she said. “Tell me what makes
you think so!” But suddenly her face
changed.</p>
<p>“Oh!” she cried. “There he is, coming
to meet me! And you have soiled
my white dress with your dusty shoes,
and pulled my hair all awry. Run away,
child, and go home to your mother!”</p>
<p>She set the child down, not unkindly,
but so hastily that he stumbled and fell;
but she did not see that, for she was hastening
forward to meet her lover, who was
coming along the road. (Now if the
maiden had only known, he thought her
twice as lovely with the child in her arms;
but she did not know.)</p>
<p>The child lay in the dusty road and
sobbed, till his mother came along and
picked him up, and wiped away the tears
with her blue gingham apron.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe that was an angel, after
all,” he said.</p>
<p>“No!” said the mother. “But she may
be one some day. She is young yet.”</p>
<p>“I am tired!” said the child. “Will
you carry me home, mother?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>“Why, yes!” said the mother. “That
is what I came for.”</p>
<p>The child put his arms round his mother’s
neck, and she held him tight and trudged
along the road, singing the song he liked
best.</p>
<p>Suddenly he looked up in her face.</p>
<p>“Mother,” he said; “I don’t suppose
<em>you</em> could be an angel, could you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, what a foolish child!” said the
mother. “Who ever heard of an angel
in a blue gingham apron?” and she went
on singing, and stepped out so bravely on
her lame foot that no one would ever have
known she was lame.</p>
<hr class="l1" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span></p>
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