Not Quite Eighteen

  A GRANTED WISH.

  This is a story about princesses and beggar-girls, hovels and palaces,sweet things and sad things, fullness and scarcity. It is a simple storyenough, and mostly true. And as it touches so many and such differentextremes of human condition and human experience, it ought by goodrights to interest almost everybody; don't you think so?

  Effie Wallis's great wish was to have a doll of her own. This was not avery unreasonable wish for any little girl to feel, one would think, yetthere seemed as little likelihood of its being granted as that the moonshould come down out of the sky and offer itself to her as a plaything;for Effie and her parents belonged to the very poorest of the Londonpoor, and how deep a poverty that is, only London knows.

  We have poor people enough, and sin and suffering enough in our ownlarge cities, but I don't think the poorest of them are quite so badlyoff as London's worst. Effie and her father and mother and her littlesister and her three brothers all lived in a single cellar-like room, inthe most squalid quarter of St. Giles. There was almost no furniture inthe room; in winter it was often fireless, in summer hot always, andfull of evil smells. Food was scanty, and sometimes wanting altogether,for gin cost less than bread, and Effie's father was continuously drunk,her mother not infrequently so. It was a miserable home and a wretchedfamily. The parents fought, the children cried and quarrelled, and theparents beat them. As the boys grew bigger, they made haste to escapeinto the streets, where all manner of evil was taught them. Jack, theeldest, who was but just twelve, had twice been arrested, and sentencedto a term of imprisonment for picking pockets. They were growing up tobe little thieves, young ruffians, and what chance for better things wasthere in the squalid cellar and the comfortless life, and how littlechance of a doll for Effie, you will easily see. Poor doll-less Effie!She was only six years old, and really a sweet little child. The grimeon her cheeks did not reach to her heart, which was as simple andignorant and innocent as that of white-clad children, whose mothers kissthem, and whose faces are washed every day.

  In all her life Effie had only seen one doll. It was a battered object,with one leg gone, and only half a nose, but, to Effie's eyes, it was abeauty and a treasure. This doll was the property of a little girl towhom Effie had never dared to speak, she seemed to her so happy andprivileged, so far above herself, as she strutted up and down the alleywith other children, bearing the one-legged doll in her arms. It was notthe alley in which the Wallises lived, but a somewhat wider one intowhich that opened. One of Effie's few pleasures was to creep away whenshe could, and, crouched behind a post at the alley's foot, watch thechildren playing there. No one thought of or noticed her. Once, when theowner of the doll threw her on the ground for a moment and ran away,Effie ventured to steal out and touch the wonderful creature with herfinger. It was only a touch, for the other children soon returned, andEffie fled back to her hiding-place; but she never forgot it. Oh, ifonly she could have a doll like that for her own, what happiness itwould be, she thought; but she never dared to mention the doll to hermother, or to put the wish into words.

  If any one had come in just then and told Effie that one day she was toown a doll far more beautiful than the shabby treasure she so coveted,and that the person to give it her would be the future Queen ofEngland,--why, first it would have been needful to explain to her whatthe words meant, and then she certainly wouldn't have believed them.What a wide, wide distance there seemed from the wretched alley wherethe little, half-clad child crouched behind the post, to the sunnypalace where the fair princess, England's darling, sat surrounded by herbright-faced children,--a distance too wide to bridge, as it wouldappear; yet it was bridged, and there was a half-way point where bothcould meet, as you will see. That half-way point was called "The GreatOrmond Street Child's Hospital."

  For one day a very sad thing happened to Effie. Sent by her mother tobuy a quartern of gin, she was coming back with the jug in her hand,when a half-tipsy man, reeling against her, threw her down just where aflight of steps led to a lower street. She was picked up and carriedhome, where for some days she lay in great pain, before a kind woman whowent about to read the Bible to the poor, found her out, and sent thedispensary doctor to see her. He shook his head gravely after he hadexamined her, and said her leg was badly broken, and ought to have beenseen to long before, and that there was no use trying to cure her there,and she must be carried to the hospital. Mrs. Wallis made a great outcryover this, for mothers are mothers, even when they are poor and drunkenand ignorant, and do not like to have their children taken away fromthem; but in the end the doctor prevailed.

  Effie hardly knew when they moved her, for the doctor had given hersomething which made her sleep heavily and long. It was like a dreamwhen she at last opened her eyes, and found herself in a place which shehad never seen before,--a long, wide, airy room, with a double row ofnarrow, white beds like the one in which she herself was, and in most ofthe beds sick children lying. Bright colored pictures and texts paintedgaily in red and blue hung on the walls above the beds; some of thecounterpanes had pretty verses printed on them. Effie could not read,but she liked to look at the texts, they were so bright. There wereflowers in pots and jars on the window-sills, and on some of the littletables that stood beside the beds, and tiny chairs with rockers, inwhich pale little boys and girls sat swinging to and fro. A great manyof them were playing with toys, and they all looked happy. An air offresh, cheerful neatness was over all the place, and altogether it wasso pleasant that for a long time Effie lay staring about her, andspeaking not a word. At last, in a faint little voice, she halfwhispered, "Where is this?"

  Faint as was the voice, some one heard it, and came at once to thebedside. This somebody was a nice, sweet-faced, motherly looking woman,dressed in the uniform of Miss Nightingale's nurses. She smiled sokindly at Effie that Effie smiled feebly back.

  "Where is this?" she asked again.

  "This is a nice place where they take care of little children who areill, and make them well again," answered the nurse, brightly.

  "Do you live here?" said Effie, after a pause, during which her largeeyes seemed to grow larger.

  "Yes. My name is Nurse Johnstone, and I am _your_ nurse. You've had along sleep, haven't you, dear? Now you've waked up, would you like somenice milk to drink?"

  "Y-es," replied Effie, doubtfully. But when the milk came, she liked itvery much, it was so cool and rich and sweet. It was brought in a littleblue cup, and Effie drank it through a glass tube, because she must notlift her head. There was a bit of white bread to eat besides, but Effiedid not care for that. She was drowsy still, and fell asleep as soon asthe last mouthful of milk was swallowed.

  When she next waked, Nurse Johnstone was there again, with such a goodlittle cupful of hot broth for Effie to eat, and another slice of bread.Effie's head was clearer now, and she felt much more like talking andquestioning. The ward was dark and still, only a shaded lamp here andthere showed the little ones asleep in their cots.

  "This is a nice place I think," said Effie, as she slowly sipped thesoup.

  "I'm glad you like it," said the nurse, "almost all children do."

  "I like you, too," said Effie, with a contented sigh, "and _that_,"pointing to the broth. She had not once asked after her mother; thenurse noticed, and she drew her own inferences.

  "Now," she said, after she had smoothed the bed clothes and Effie'shair, and given the pillow a touch or two to make it easier, "now, itwould be nice if you would say one little Bible verse for me, and thengo to sleep again."

  "A verse?" said Effie.

  "Yes, a little Bible verse."

  "Bible?" repeated Effie, in a puzzled tone.

  "Yes, dear,--a Bible verse. Don't you know one?"

  "No."

  "But you've seen a Bible, surely."

  Effie shook her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said.

  "Why, you poor lamb," cried Nurse Johnstone, "I do believe you haven't!Well, and in a Christian country, too! If that ain't too bad. I'll tellyou
a verse this minute, you poor little thing, and to-morrow we'll seeif you can't learn it." Then, very slowly and reverently, she repeated,"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, forof such is the kingdom of Heaven." Twice she repeated the text, Effielistening attentively to the strange, beautiful words; then she kissedher for good-night, and moved away. Effie lay awake awhile saying theverse over to herself. She had a good memory, and when she waked nextmorning she found that she was able to say it quite perfectly.

  That happened to be a Thursday, and Thursday was always a special day inGreat Ormond Street, because it was that on which the Princess of Walesmade her weekly visit to the hospital. Effie had never heard of aprincess, and had no idea what all the happy bustle meant, as nurses andpatients made ready for the coming guest. Nothing could be cleaner thanthe ward in its every-day condition, but all little possible toucheswere given to make it look its very best. Fresh flowers were put intothe jars, the little ones able to sit up, were made very neat, eachwhite bed was duly smoothed, and every face had a look as thoughsomething pleasant was going to happen. Children easily catch thecontagion of cheerfulness, and Effie was insensibly cheered by seeingother people so. She lay on her pillow, observing everything, andfaintly smiling, when the door opened, and in came a slender, beautifullady, wrapped in soft silks and laces, with two or three children besideher. All the nurses began to courtesy, and the children to dimple andtwinkle at the sight of her. She walked straight to the middle of theward, then, lifting something up that all might see it, she said in aclear sweet voice: "Isn't there some one of these little girls who cansay a pretty Bible verse for me? If there is, she shall have this."

  What do you think "this" was? No other than a doll! A large, beautifulcreature of wax, with curly brown hair, blue eyes which could open andshut, the reddest lips and pinkest cheeks ever seen, and a place,somewhere about her middle, which, when pinched, made her utter asqueaky sound like "Mama." This delightful doll had on a pretty bluedress with a scarlet sash, and a pair of brown kid boots with realbuttons. She wore a little blue hat on top of her curly head, andsported an actual pocket-handkerchief, three inches square, or so, onwhich was written her name, "Dolly Varden." All the little ones staredat her with dazzled eyes, but for a moment no one spoke. I suppose theyreally were too surprised to speak, till suddenly a little hand went up,and a small voice was heard from the far corner. The voice came fromEffie, too, and it was Effie herself who spoke.

  "I can say a verse," said the small voice.

  "Can you? That is nice. Say it, then," said the princess, turning towardher.

  Then the small, piping voice repeated, very slowly and distinctly, thistext: "Suffer the little children to come unto--_Nurse Johnstone_--andforbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven!"

  What a laugh rang through the ward then! The nurses laughed, the littleones laughed too, though they did not distinctly understand at what.Nurse Johnstone cried as well as laughed, and the princess was almost asbad, for her eyes were dewy, though a smile was on her sweet lips as shestepped forward and laid the doll in Effie's hands. Nurse Johnstoneeagerly explained: "I said 'Come unto Me,' and she thought it meant_me_, poor little lamb, and it's a shame there should be such ignorancein a Christian land!" All this time Effie was hugging her dolly in asilent rapture. Her wish was granted, and wasn't it strange that itshould have been granted just _so_?

  She stepped forward and laid the doll in Effie'shands.--PAGE 282.]

  Do you want to know more about little Effie? There isn't much more totell. All the kindness and care which she received in Great OrmondStreet could not make her well again. She had no constitution, thedoctors said, and no strength. She lived a good many weeks, however,and they were the happiest weeks of her life, I think. Dolly Vardenwas always beside her, and Dolly was clasped tight in her arms whenshe finally fell asleep to waken up no more. Nurse Johnstone, who hadlearned to love the little girl dearly, wanted to lay the doll in thesmall coffin; but the other nurses said it would be a pity to do so.There are so few dolls and so many children in the world, you know; soin the end Dolly Varden was given to another little sick girl, who tookas much pleasure in her as Effie had done.

  So Effie's wish was granted, though only for a little while. It is veryoften so with wishes which we make in this world. But I am very surethat Effie doesn't miss the dolly or anything else in the happy worldto which she has gone, and that the wishes granted there are grantedfully and forever, and more freely and abundantly than we who staybehind can even guess.

  THE END.