The Little Colonel | Page 6

the weeds, quick! Lie down, I say!" They both made
themselves as flat as possible, and lay there panting with the exertion of
keeping still.
Presently the Little Colonel raised her head cautiously.
"Oh, he's gone down that lane!" she exclaimed. "Now you can get up."

After a moment's deliberation she asked, "Fritz, would you rathah have
some 'trawberries an' be tied up fo' runnin' away, or not be tied up and
not have any of those nice tas'en 'trawberries?"

CHAPTER III.
Two hours later, Colonel Lloyd, riding down the avenue under the
locusts, was surprised by a novel sight on his stately front steps.
Three little darkies and a big flop-eared hound were crouched on the
bottom step, looking up at the Little Colonel, who sat just above them.
She was industriously stirring something in an old rusty pan with a big,
battered spoon.
"Now, May Lilly," she ordered, speaking to the largest and blackest of
the group, "you run an' find some nice 'mooth pebbles to put in for
raisins. Henry Clay, you go get me some moah sand. This is 'most too
wet."
"Here, you little pickaninnies!" roared the Colonel, as he recognized
the cook's children. "What did I tell you about playing around here,
tracking dirt all over my premises? You just chase back to the cabin
where you belong!"
The sudden call startled Lloyd so that she dropped the pan, and the
great mud pie turned upside down on the white steps.
"Well, you're a pretty sight!" said the Colonel, as he glanced with
disgust from her soiled dress and muddy hands to her bare feet.
He had been in a bad humour all morning. The sight of the steps
covered with sand and muddy tracks gave him an excuse to give vent to
his cross feelings.
It was one of his theories that a little girl should always be kept as fresh
and dainty as a flower. He had never seen his own little daughter in

such a plight as this, and she had never been allowed to step outside of
her own room without her shoes and stockings.
"What does your mother mean," he cried, savagely, "by letting you run
barefooted around the country just like poor white trash? An' what are
you playing with low-flung niggers for? Haven't you ever been taught
any better? I suppose it's some of your father's miserable Yankee
notions."
May Lilly, peeping around the corner of the house, rolled her
frightened eyes from one angry face to the other. The same temper that
glared from the face of the man, sitting erect in his saddle, seemed to be
burning in the eyes of the child, who stood so defiantly before him. The
same kind of scowl drew their eyebrows together darkly.
"Don't you talk that way to me," cried the Little Colonel, trembling
with a wrath she did not know how to express.
Suddenly she stooped, and snatching both hands full of mud from the
overturned pie, flung it wildly over the spotless white coat.
Colonel Lloyd gasped with astonishment. It was the first time in his life
he had ever been openly defied. The next moment his anger gave way
to amusement.
"By George!" he chuckled, admiringly. "The little thing has got spirit,
sure enough. She's a Lloyd through and through. So that's why they call
her the 'Little Colonel,' is it?"
There was a tinge of pride in the look he gave her haughty little head
and flashing eyes. "There, there, child!" he said, soothingly. "I didn't
mean to make you mad, when you were good enough to come and see
me. It isn't often I have a little lady like you pay me a visit."
"I didn't come to see you, suh," she answered, indignantly, as she
started toward the gate. "I came to see May Lilly. But I nevah would
have come inside yo' gate if I'd known you was goin' to hollah at me an'
be so cross."

She was walking off with the air of an offended queen, when the
Colonel remembered that if he allowed her to go away in that mood she
would probably never set foot on his grounds again. Her display of
temper had interested him immensely.
Now that he had laughed off his ill humour, he was anxious to see what
other traits of character she possessed. He wheeled his horse across the
walk to bar her way, and quickly dismounted.
"Oh, now, wait a minute," he said, in a coaxing tone. "Don't you want a
nice big saucer of strawberries and cream before you go? Walker's
picking some now. And you haven't seen my hothouse. It's just full of
the loveliest flowers you ever saw. You like roses, don't you, and pinks
and lilies and pansies?"
He