The Little Colonel

The Little Colonel

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Title: The Little Colonel
Author: Annie Fellows Johnston
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THE LITTLE COLONEL
By Annie Fellows Johnston
1895

TO ONE OF KENTUCKY'S DEAREST LITTLE DAUGHTERS
The Little Colonel
HERSELF--THIS REMEMBRANCE OF A HAPPY SUMMER IS
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED The Little Colonel

CHAPTER I.
It was one of the prettiest places in all Kentucky where the Little
Colonel stood that morning. She was reaching up on tiptoes, her eager
little face pressed close against the iron bars of the great entrance gate
that led to a fine old estate known as "Locust."
A ragged little Scotch and Skye terrier stood on its hind feet beside her,
thrusting his inquisitive nose between the bars, and wagging his
tasselled tail in lively approval of the scene before them.
They were looking down a long avenue that stretched for nearly a
quarter of a mile between rows of stately old locust-trees.
At the far end they could see the white pillars of a large stone house
gleaming through the Virginia creeper that nearly covered it. But they
could not see the old Colonel in his big chair on the porch behind the
cool screen of vines.

At that very moment he had caught the rattle of wheels along the road,
and had picked up his field-glass to see who was passing. It was only a
coloured man jogging along in the heat and dust with a cart full of
chicken-coops. The Colonel watched him drive up a lane that led to the
back of the new hotel that had just been opened in this quiet country
place. Then his glance fell on the two small strangers coming through
his gate down the avenue toward him. One was the friskiest dog he had
ever seen in his life. The other was a child he judged to be about five
years old.
Her shoes were covered with dust, and her white sunbonnet had slipped
off and was hanging over her shoulders. A bunch of wild flowers she
had gathered on the way hung limp and faded in her little warm hand.
Her soft, light hair was cut as short as a boy's.
There was something strangely familiar about the child, especially in
the erect, graceful way she walked.
Old Colonel Lloyd was puzzled. He had lived all his life in
Lloydsborough, and this was the first time he had ever failed to
recognize one of the neighbours' children. He knew every dog and
horse, too, by sight if not by name.
Living so far from the public road did not limit his knowledge of what
was going on in the world. A powerful field-glass brought every
passing object in plain view, while he was saved all annoyance of noise
and dust.
"I ought to know that child as well as I know my own name," he said to
himself. "But the dog is a stranger in these parts. Liveliest thing I ever
set eyes on! They must have come from the hotel. Wonder what they
want."
He carefully wiped the lens for a better view. When he looked again he
saw that they evidently had not come to visit him.
They had stopped half-way down the avenue, and climbed up on a
rustic seat to rest.

The dog sat motionless about two minutes, his red tongue hanging out
as if he were completely exhausted.
Suddenly he gave a spring, and bounded away through the tall blue
grass. He was back again in a moment, with a stick in his mouth.
Standing up with his fore