No and Other Stories: WILLY AND THE BEGGAR GIRL

"An apple, dear mother!" / Cried Willy one day, / Coming in, with his cheeks / Glowing bright, from his play. / "I want a nice apple, / A large one, and red." / "For whom do you want it?" / His kind mother said. "You know a big apple / I gave you at noon; / And now for another, / My boy, it's too soon." / "There's a poor little girl / At the door, mother dear," / Said Will, while within / His mild eye shone a tear. "She says, since last evening / She's eaten no bread; / Her feet are all naked / And bare is her head. / Like me, she's no mother / To love her, I'm sure, / Or she'd not look so hungry, / And ragged, and poor. "Let me give her an apple; / She wants one, I know; / A nice, large, red apple / O! do not say no." / First a kiss to the lips / Of her generous boy, / Mamma gave with a feeling / Of exquisite joy For goodness, whene'er / In a child it is seen, / Gives joy to the heart / Of a mother, I ween / And then led her out, where, / Still stood by the door, / A poor little beggar-girl, / Ragged all o'er. "Please ma'am, I am hungry," / The little thing said, / "Will you give me to eat / A small piece of bread?" / "Yes, child, you shall have it; / But who sends you out / From dwelling to dwelling / To wander about?" A pair of mild eyes / To the lady were raised; / "My mother's been sick / For a great many days / So sick she don't know me." / Sobs stifled the rest / And heaved with young sorrow / That innocent breast. Just then from the store-room / Where wee Willy run, / As his mother to question / The poor child begun / Came forth the sweet boy, / With a large loaf of bread, / Held tight in his tiny hands / High o'er his head. "Here's bread, and a plenty! / Eat, little girl, eat!" / He cried, as he laid / The great loaf at her feet. / The mother smiled gently, / Then, quick through the door / Drew the sad little stranger, / So hungry and poor. With words kindly spoken / She gave her nice food, / And clothed her with garments / All clean, warm and good. / This done, she was leading / Her out, when she heard / Willy coming down stairs, / Like a fluttering bird. A newly bought leghorn, / With green bow and band. / And an old, worn out beaver / He held in his hand. / "Here! give her my new hat," / He cried; "I can wear / My black one all summer / It's good -- you won't care "Say! will you, dear mother?" / First out through the door, / She passed the girl kindly; / Then quick from the floor / Caught up the dear fellow, / Kissed and kissed him again, / While her glad tears fell freely / O'er his sweet face like rain.