choosing the toys; among them, I remember, was afine rocking-horse which my father was very anxious to hear what Ithought of, for though I didn't know it at the time, he meant it for memyself."
"Like _our_ old rocking-horse in the nursery?" asked Leigh.
Papa smiled.
"More than like it," he said; "it is that very horse. I've kept it eversince, and I had it done up with a new mane and tail when you got bigenough to ride it, Leigh."
"Oh, how nice," said Mary, "to think it's papa's own horse! But,please, go on with the story, papa."
"Well, when we had chosen the horse and all the other things, my fatherhad something else to buy that he thought I wouldn't care about in theother part of the shop. And I think he wanted to tell them where tosend the horse to without my hearing. He looked at his watch and seemedvexed to find it so late. He asked me if I should be afraid to run backto the hotel alone, and turned towards the door opening on to the backstreet, from which we could see the hotel as it faced the end of thatsmall street. But I think he must have fancied that I looked a littlefrightened, for then he changed and pointed to the front door of theshop, telling me to stay there till he came back. He said it wouldamuse me to stand just outside in the entrance where I could both seethe shop window and watch the carriages passing.
"`But whatever you do, Charlie,' he said, `don't move from there till Icome back for you!'"
CHAPTER EIGHT.
PAPA'S STORY CONTINUED.
"For some time, a quarter of an hour or so, I dare say, I stood at theshop door very contentedly. It was very amusing, as my father had said,to watch the bustle in the street. I don't think I looked much at thethings in the shop window; I'd seen so many of the toys inside. Butafter awhile I began to wish that my father would be quick. He did seemto be a very long time. I peeped in through the glass door, but Icouldn't see him anywhere near. I even opened it a tiny bit to listenif I could hear his voice, but I couldn't. People often passed me to gointo the shop and to come out, but nobody specially noticed me; theywere all too busy about their own affairs; besides, there's nothinguncommon in a little boy standing at a toy-shop window.
"It seemed to grow colder too. I should have liked to run up and downon the pavement in front to warm myself a little; but I dared not movefrom where I was. At last some one belonging to the shop happened tocome to the door to reach down some large toys hanging in the entrance,and this shopman noticed me. By this time, though I scarcely knew it,the tears were running down my face; I was growing so very tired withwaiting. He said to me--
"`Is there anything the matter? Have you hurt yourself?'
"I answered No, I was only waiting for my father who was in the shop.`But I don't know why he's such a long time,' I said; `I am so tired ofwaiting,' and somehow the saying it out made me begin to cry much more.
"The young man was very kind and seemed sorry for me. He wanted me tocome inside where it would be warmer, while he went to look for myfather; but I shook my head and told him that papa had said I must stayjust there where I was. I wouldn't even come the least bit inside thedoor. I remembered papa's words so well--
"`Whatever you do, Charlie, don't move from there till I come back foryou!'
"In a few minutes the shopman came back again. He was shaking his headnow; there was no one in the shop with a little boy belonging to them.There were one or two ladies whom he had asked, which I thought veryridiculous, as if I could have mistaken papa for a lady, but there wasno gentleman at all, and he tried again to persuade me to come inside.He said there must be some mistake; my father had most likely gone onsomewhere else; perhaps he'd be back in a little while; he'd never wantme to stay out there in the cold. But there was no getting me to move.I can remember, even now, the sort of fixed feeling in my mind that I_wouldn't_ do the least differently from what he had told me.
"Then the young man went off to fetch some one else--the owner of theshop most likely. I remember two or three people coming up and alltalking to me and trying to get me to come inside. But I wouldn't--eventhough by this time I couldn't leave off crying--I just went on shakingmy head and saying--
"He said I was to stay here."
"I dare say they thought me a very tiresome little boy, but they werevery kind. The young man, my first friend, brought me out a chair, andthen I heard them talking about what was to be done. They had asked memy name, which I told them, but I couldn't tell them the name of thehotel where we were staying, for I didn't know it, and I _wouldn't_ tellthem that it was in a street close by, because I was afraid they wouldcarry me off there. I think I was getting rather confused by this time;I could only remember that I must stay where I was if ever I was to seepapa again. I heard them saying that the gentleman had only given hiscountry address, as the toys were to be sent straight home.
"After awhile, in spite of the cold and my unhappiness, I think I musthave fallen asleep a little. I was almost too young to be anxious aboutmy father and to fear that some accident must have happened to him, butyet I can quite remember that I had really very dreadful feelings. Asthe evening went on and the street grew darker and darker, and therebegan to be fewer passers-by, it seemed worse and worse. Once Iremember bursting out into fresh crying at seeing, by the light of thegas-lamp, a little boy passing along chattering merrily to the gentlemanwhose hand he was holding. I felt like a poor shipwrecked mariner on adesert island--all the lonelier that I was in the middle of a greattown.
"No doubt the shop people must have been getting uncomfortable andwondering what was to come of it. It must have seemed very strange tothem; and, at last, the head man came out again and spoke to me--thistime rather sharply, perhaps he thought it the best thing to do--
"`Young gentleman,' he said, `this really can't go on! You must see youcan't sit there the whole night. Try and think again of the name of theplace you're staying at.'
"`I don't know it,' I said, and I dare say I seemed rather sulky, for hegrew crosser.
"`Well, if you can't or won't tell us, something'll have to be done,' heanswered. `It's the police's business, not ours, to look after strayedchildren, or children that won't say where they come from. Here,Smith,' he called out to the young shopman, `just look up and down thestreet if there's a policeman to be seen.'
"He didn't really mean to do anything unkind, but he thought it the bestway to frighten me into coming inside the shop, or into telling where Ilived, for I don't think they quite believed that I didn't know. Butthe word `policeman' terrified me out of my wits; I suppose I wasalready half-stupefied with tiredness and crying. If I had dared, Iwould have rushed out into the street and run off anywhere as fast as Icould. But, through all, the feeling never left me that I must staywhere I was, and I burst into loud screams.
"`Oh, papa, papa!' I cried, `why won't you come back? The police arecoming to take me; oh, papa, papa!'
"I was crying so that for a moment or two I didn't hear a bustle at theother end of the shop. Then, all at once, I saw some one hurrying to mefrom the door leading into the other street, and as soon as I saw who itwas, I rushed to meet him and threw myself into his arms, for of courseit was my father. I don't think, in all my life, I have ever feltgreater happiness than I did then.
"`Oh, Charlie,' he said, `my poor little boy! Have you been waitinghere all these hours--my good, obedient, little son?'
"Then he turned to the shopman who was now a little ashamed of himself--I dare say the poor man had been getting really afraid that I was to beleft on his hands altogether--and explained the whole mistake. He hadgone straight on to the city after finishing his orders in the otherpart of the shop, forgetting that the _last_ thing he had said to me wasto wait for him at the front door of the shop; for his thoughts werevery much taken up that morning with some very serious business, and itwas actually not till he got back to the hotel, late in the afternoon,and found I wasn't there, that he remembered that the plan of my runningback alone had been given up.
"Then he was terribly frightened
and rushed off to the shop, hardlydaring to hope he would find me still there. He kept saying he couldscarcely forgive himself, and even years after, I often heard him saythat he couldn't understand what had come over his memory that day.
"When the shop people saw how troubled he was about it, they begantelling him how they had tried to make me come inside, but that it hadbeen no use, and all the way home papa kept saying to me--
"`My faithful little Charlie'--which pleased me very much.
"He carried me to the hotel, and I felt so weak and tired that I didn'tmind, even though I was a big boy of six years old. And I