"Martha Young-Somebodys Little Girl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Young Martha)

The Grandmother who had always talked so much to the tiny little
girl was not talking any more.

The tiny little girl was so sick that she only just could breathe
quickly, just so--and just so--.

If Bessie Bell could remember that, it was only that she remembered
the big white cat like a big soft dream. And she might have
remembered how, now and then, the big cat put out a paw and touched
the little girl's cheek, like a soft white dream-touch.

And that little girl had on a night-gown that was long, and soft,
and white, and on that little white night-gown was worked, oh so
carefully, in linen thread: ``Bessie Bell.''

Then the few people who walked about the world in Fever-time came in
to that big house, and they took up that little tiny girl that
breathed so softly and so quickly--just so!

And they read on her little white night-gown the words written with
the linen thread: ``Bessie Bell.''

And they said: ``Let us take this little girl with us.''

They put a big soft white blanket around the little girl and walked
out of the big house with her, someone carrying her in strong arms.

And the big white cat got down off the big white bed and rubbed
himself against the bedpost, and went round and round the bed-post,
and rubbed himself round and round the bed-post.

And the tiny little girl never saw the big house, or the big soft
white cat any more.

And now when it happened that she remembered something, great grown
people said: ``No, no, Bessie Bell, there is nothing in the world
like that.''

So she just wondered and remembered, and almost forgot what it was
that she did remember.

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Sister Mary Felice had all the little tiny girls playing in the
sand: that was the place that was meant for the little girls to play
in.