The moccasins soon had been ground to pulp and carried
away on a non-skid tire while at three o’clock
in the morning a cross, dishevelled society woman,
in passing from her dressing room to her bed, stumbled
over the osier basket, kicking it from her way.
S.O.S.
Mickey, his responsibility weighing upon him, slept
lightly and awakened early, his first thought of Peaches.
He slipped into his clothing and advancing peered
at her through the grayness. His heart beat wildly.
“Aw you poor kid! You poor little kid!”
he whispered to himself as he had fallen into the
habit of doing for company. “The scaring,
the jolting, the scouring, and everything were too
much for you. You’ve gone sure! You’re
just like them at the morgue. Aw Peaches!
I didn’t mean to hurt you, Peaches! I was
trying to be good to you. Honest I was,
Peaches! Aw——!”
As his fright increased Mickey raised his voice until
his last wail reached the consciousness of the sleeping
child. She stirred slightly, her head moving
on the pillow. Mickey almost fell, so great was
his relief. He stepped closer, gazing in awe.
The sheared hair had dried in the night, tumbling
into a hundred golden ringlets. The tiny clean
face was white, so white that the blue of the closed
eyes showed darkly through the lids, the blue veins
streaked the temples and the little claws lying relaxed
on the sheet. Mickey slowly broke up inside.
A big, hard lump grew in his throat. He shut
his lips tight and bored the tears from his eyes with
his wiry fists. He began to mutter his thoughts
to regain self-control.
“Gee kid, but you had me scared to the limit!”
he said. “I thought you were gone, sure.
Honest I did! Ain’t I glad though!
But you’re the whitest thing! You’re
like——I’ll tell you what you’re
like. You’re like the lily flowers in the
store windows at Easter. You’re white like
them, and your hair is the little bit of gold decorating
them. If I’d known it was like that I wouldn’t
a-cut it if I’d spent a month untangling it.
Honest I wouldn’t, kid! I’m awful
sorry! Gee, but it would a-been pretty spread
over mother’s pillow.”
Mickey gazed, worshipped and rejoiced as he bent lower
from time to time to watch the fluttering breath.
“You’re so clean now you just smell good;
but I got to go easy. The dirt covered you so
I didn’t see how sick you were. You’ll
go out like a candle, that’s what you’ll
do. I mustn’t let even the wind blow cold
on you. I couldn’t stand it if I was to
hurt you. I’d just go and lay down before
the cars or jump down an elevator hole. Gee, I’m
glad I found you! I wouldn’t trade you
for the smartest dog that’s being rode around
in the parks. Nor for the parks! Nor the
trees! Nor the birds! Nor the buildings!
Nor the swimming places! Nor the automobiles!
Nor nothing! Not nothing you could mention at
all! Not eating! Nor seeing! Nor having!
Not no single thing—nothing at all—Lily!
