LITTLE WIDE-AWAKE
A Story Book for Little Children
BY
MRS. SALE BARKER
WITH FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON AND NEW YORK
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS
1877
SOME OF MY LITTLE FRIENDS:
ROSIE.
Rosie is the name of the little girl whosepicture you see on the first page, with asnowball in her hands. Of course hername is Rosa really, but somehow wealways call her Rosie. Has she not abright, pretty, laughing little face, withher blue eyes, and fair hair? She is afine strong little maiden into the bargain; a trifle wilful,perhaps, and a good deal of a romp.
Last Christmas I was staying at Cranley Grange—Rosie’shome in the country,—when one morning atbreakfast her mamma said to me—“Charlie is cominghome to-day; I can’t go to meet him, my cough is so bad.I wonder if you would mind driving down to the station,and taking Rosie and Frank?”
Charlie, who was the eldest son, and a great favourite ofmine, was coming home for his Christmas holidays. Hewas about fourteen years old, while Rosie was only ten, andFrank two years younger.
I said I should be delighted to go, thinking what a pleasantdrive it would be with those merry laughing children.Little did I anticipate the trial to my nerves, and the successionof frights, that were in store for me.
We were soon seated in the open wagonette, and off westarted. Though I should not say seated, for the childrenscarcely sat down at all: they kept jumping up, changingplaces, pushing each other, and playing all sorts of pranks.I was in an agony of fear lest they should tumble out; andduring the whole drive, I sat with my arms extended, clutchinghold, sometimes of one, sometimes of the other, to savethem. This was fright number one.
At last we arrived at the station;—the children still inuproarious spirits, though with cherry noses, as well as rosycheeks, from the cold. I must tell you that there was snowupon the ground; and as, unluckily, we had ten minutes towait for the train, they began to amuse themselves by snowballingeach other. Frank set the example, and they foundit such fun that I scolded, and begged them to be quiet, invain. At last I observed Rosie standing quite at the end ofthe platform, where the snow was thicker, and she had collecteda large snowball, which she held up in her hands.As I looked at her, and thought what a pretty picture shemade, I noticed, in the landscape behind her, a little puffof white smoke. It was the approaching train, at a distanceof not more than half a mile. I thought her position, atthe extremity of the platform, and just at the edge too,terribly dangerous. And this may be called—frightnumber two.
I had just opened my lips to call out to her that the trainwas coming, when a whole handful of snow came dab intom