Somebodys Little Girl | Page 7

cabin that she and Sister Helen Vincula lived in, and decided to herself that, strange as it was, yet was it true that the whole world was full of--Ladies.
There were yet stranger things for Bessie Bell to learn.
She had not for long played with those many little girls in all sorts of clothes, and with larger girls, and with boys,--some with short-striped-stocking-legs and some with long-striped-stocking- legs,--before she heard one child say: ``Mama says she will take me to Sweet Fern Cave to-morrow.''
Or perhaps it was another child who said: ``Mama won't let me wade in the branch.''
Or another child said: ``Mama says I can have a party for all the little girls and boys on the mountain next Friday!''
Then another little child said: ``My Mama has made me a beautiful pink dress, and I will wear that to your party.''
Mama? My Mama?
Bessie Bell leaned against the little fluted post of the gallery to the cabin where she and Sister Helen Vincula lived, and thought a great deal about that.
And Bessie Bell wondered a great deal what that could mean: Mama? My Mama?
There were strange new things in this world.
Bessie Bell almost forgot to remember now, because every day was so full of such strange new things to know.
Mama? My Mama?
Bessie Bell did a great deal of thinking about that.
One day the little children were playing at building rock chimneys.
There was not much sand there for little children to play in, so that the children often built rock chimneys, and rock tables, and rock fences.
As they were playing one little girl suddenly left the playground and ran, calling: ``Mama! Mama! Come here; come this way, and see the chimney we have built!''
Bessie Bell turned quickly from play and looked after the little girl who was running across the playground to where three ladies were standing.
The little girl caught the dress of one of the ladies, and came pulling at her dress and bringing her across the ground to see the stone chimney, and the little girl kept saying:
``Look, Mama! See, Mama! Isn't it a grand chimney? Won't it 'most hold smoke?''
Bessie Bell stood still with her little hands--they were beginning to be round pink little hands again, now--clasped in front of her and wondered.
``See, Mama! Look, Mama!'' cried the little girl.
``Why does she say: Mama?'' asked Bessie Bell, because she just wondered, and wondered--and she did not know.
``Because it is her Mama,'' said a child who had just brought two more rocks to put on the chimney.
``Oh,'' said Bessie Bell.
That lady who was the little girl's Mama looked much as all the ladies looked.
``Are all Ladies Mamas?'' asked Bessie Bell.
She hoped the child who had brought the two rocks would not laugh, for Bessie Bell knew she would cry if she did.
The little girl did not laugh at all. She was trying so carefully to put the last rock on top of the stone chimney, she said: ``No, Bessie Bell: some are Mamas, and some are only just Ladies.''
There. There it was again: Only-Just-Ladies.
Bessie Bell wondered how to tell which were Mamas, and which were Ladies--just Ladies.
Very often after that day she watched those who passed the cabin where she and Sister Helen Vincula lived, and wondered which were Mamas--
And which were Ladies.
There was no rule of old or young by which Bessie Bell could tell.
Nor was it as one could tell Sisters from Just-Ladies by a way of dress. For Sisters, like Sister Helen Vincula, wore a soft white around the face, and soft long black veils, and a small cross on the breast of the dress: so that even had any not known the difference one could easily have guessed.
But for Ladies and Mamas there were none of these differences.
But Bessie Bell looked and looked and wondered, but her eyes brought to her no way of knowing.
Bessie Bell could at length think of only one way to find out the difference, and that was to ask--to let her ears help her eyes to bring to her some way of knowing.
One day, a dear old lady with white curls all around under her bonnet stopped near the playground and called Bessie Bell to her and gave her some chocolate candy, every piece of candy folded up in its own white paper.
Bessie Bell said: ``Thank you, ma'am.''
Then as the lady still stood by the playground Bessie Bell asked her: ``Are you a Lady, ma'am ?''
``I have been called so,'' said the lady, smiling down at Bessie Bell.
``Or are you a Mama?'' asked Bessie Bell.
``Ah, said the lady; ``I am a Mama, too, but all my little girls have grown up and left me.''
Bessie Bell wondered how they could have done that, those little girls. But she saw, and was so glad to see, that this lady was very wise, and