Part 8 (2/2)
”I doubt it very much,” said the gentleman, ”but we shall see.”
He then showed Rollo several pictures by his favourite artist, one in particular which Rollo greatly admired.
”That is most beautiful!” said Rollo. ”And what does it fetch?”
The gentleman looked puzzled before he said, ”Oh, you mean the price.
Well, that is one of the most reasonable. It is only a thousand dollars.”
Alas! Everywhere Rollo turned he met with the same discouraging reply.
A tiny vial of perfume was supposed to fetch ten dollars; even single blossoms of rare flowers were three dollars each.
It was a tired and disheartened Rollo who finally turned his footsteps homeward, his dollar still sagging heavily in his pocket, as his heart sagged heavily within.
And then a most surprising thing happened, for Rollo suddenly found himself before the most beautiful shop he had ever seen, its windows gleaming with brilliant wares and holiday decorations, and its doorways, beneath a handsome red sign, breathing forth odours of the utmost fragrance. But what fascinated our little hero most was a card displayed in many places which stated ”Nothing in this store over ten cents.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Can you not imagine Anabelle's joy when she opened all these presents!”]
”Hurrah!” shouted Rollo.
It was a tired but happy little Rollo who emerged an hour later, clutching his precious purchases in his arms, ten in all, and each to be marked later, ”To Anabelle from Rollo, with love and a Merry Christmas.”
For there, if you can believe me, Rollo found all the marvellous things which he had so unsuccessfully endeavoured to purchase before, a beautiful picture called _Spring_ with pink apple-blossoms a-bloom, a string of magnificent pearls, much larger than those he had seen in the other shop, a bright red book ent.i.tled _Memorandum_, a fragrant flower similar to the ones he had seen, but made of cloth and wire so that it could not wither, and a large bottle of most delicious perfume labelled Bay Rum Lotion, a sample of which the amiable young saleswoman squirted on Rollo's curly locks to his great delight.
Can you not imagine Anabelle's joy when she opened all these presents on Christmas morning! Surely hers was the brightest, happiest Christmas of any little girl in all this wide land.
THE END OF LITTLE ROLLO
WHICH IMMEDIATELY PROVOKES THE USUAL QUESTION--WHICH END?
On a bright midwinter morning, Rollo was sitting before the sputtering gas-log, endeavouring to warm himself. Although he had on his red-flannel wristers and the tippet which his Aunt Lucy had given him for Christmas, and his hands were extended over the blue flames, yet he felt cold. Ever and anon he s.h.i.+vered slightly.
”Jonas,” said he, addressing his father's secretary, who had just entered the room, ”why am I so chilly? The room according to the mercury-tube is warm, and yet I s.h.i.+ver.”
”Some one is walking over your grave,” said Jonas cheerfully, ”Such tremblings are oft times presentiments of death.” So saying, he pa.s.sed out of the room whistling a merry funeral march.
This was the one thing necessary to make Rollo feel colder and more disconsolate than ever before. He squirmed round on his green cricket, and seemed to shrink to a smaller size, as he again extended his hands, his expression becoming more and more disconsolate as the picture conjured up by Jonas's remarks floated before his eyes. He saw himself lying on his trundle bed, his family weeping about him.
Among them, he saw in his imagination his little friend Anabelle approaching, sadly, carrying a large wreath of lilies tied with a white ribbon, marked ”Rollo.” At this thought, two large tears rolled slowly down Rollo's cheeks. It was more than he could bear. And thus his mother found him when she entered the room.
Now the reasons for our little hero's depression were three. I wonder if any of my young readers can guess them!
First, there was the natural reaction to the gay Holiday season, which always plunges the world into profound gloom; secondly, Rollo was by nature inclined to be rather bilious; and thirdly,--well,--I shall wait before I tell you the third reason and perhaps you may divine it for yourselves, and will not that be fun!
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