and her deep blue eyes and ripe lips. Her cheeks were flaming red, and her
limbs strong and brown. She did not merely shout and sing; she whistled,
and made calls like the birds, and cawed like a crow, and chittered like a
squirrel, and around and around the two of us danced, crazy as dervishes
with the beauty of the spring and the joy of being free.
By and by we were so tired we had to stop, and then we sat down panting
and looked at each other. At that we laughed, long and foolishly, but, after a
time, it occurred to us that we had many questions to ask.
"How did you get here?" I asked the girl.
"I was walking my lone," she said, speaking her words as if there was a rich
thick quality to them, "and I heard you screeling."
"Won't you get lost, alone like that?"
"I can't get lost," she sighed. "I 'd like to, but I can't."
"Where do you live?"
"Beyant the fair-grounds."
"You're not—not Norah Madigan?"
She leaned back and clasped her hands behind her head. Then she smiled
at me teasingly.
"I am that," she said, showing her perfect teeth.
I caught my breath with a sharp gasp. Ought I to turn back to my parents?
Had I been so naughty that I had called the naughtiest girl in the whole
county out to me?
But I could not bring myself to leave her. She was leaning forward and
looking at me now with mocking eyes.
"Are you afraid?" she demanded.
"Afraid of what?" I asked, knowing quite well what she meant.
"Of me?" she retorted.
At that second an agreeable truth overtook me. I leaned forward, too, and
put my hand on hers.
"Why, I like you!" I cried. She began laughing again, but this time there was
no mockery in it. She ran her fingers over the embroidery on my linen frock,
she examined the lace on my petticoat, looked at the bows on my shoes, and
played delicately with the locket dangling from the slender chain around my
neck.
"Do you know—other girls?" she almost whispered.
I nodded. "Lots and lots of 'em," I said. "Don't you?"
She shook her head in wistful denial.
"Us Madigans," she said, "keeps to ourselves." She said it so haughtily that
for a moment I was almost persuaded into thinking that they lived their
solitary lives from choice. But, glancing up at her, I saw a blush that
covered her face, and there were tears in her eyes.
"Well, anyway," said I quickly, "we know each other."
"Yes," she cried, "we do that!"
She got up, then, and ran to a great tree from which a stout grape-vine was
swinging, and pulling at it with her strong arms, she soon had it made into
a practical swing.
"Come!" she called—"come, let's swing together!"
She helped me to balance myself on the rope-like vine, and, placing her feet
outside of mine, showed me how to "work up" till we were sweeping with a
fine momentum through the air. We shrieked with excitement, and urged
each other on to more and more frantic exertions. We were like two birds,
but to birds flying is no novelty. With us it was, which made us happier than
birds. But I, for my part, was no more delighted with my swift flights
through the air than I was with the shining eyes and flashing teeth of the
girl opposite me. I liked her strength, and the way in which her body bent
and swayed. Once more, she seemed like a wood-child—a wild, mad, gay
creature from the tree. I felt as if I had drawn a playmate from elf-land, and I
liked her a thousand times better than those proper little girls who came to
see me of a Saturday afternoon.
Well, there we were, rocking and screaming, and telling each other that we
were hawks, and that we were flying high over the world, when the anxious
and austere voice of my mother broke upon our ears. We tried to stop, but
that was not such an easy matter to do, and as we twisted and writhed, to
bring our grape-vine swing to a standstill, there was a slow rending and
breaking which struck terror to our souls.
"Jump!" commanded Norah—"jump! the vine's breaking!" We leaped at the
same moment, she safely. My foot caught in a stout tendril, and I fell
headlong, scraping my forehead on the ground and tearing a triangular rent
in the pretty, new frock. Mother came running forward, and the expression
on her face was far from being the one I liked to see.
"What have you been doing?" she demanded. "I thought you were getting old
enough and sensible enough to take care of yourself!"
I must have been a depressing sight, viewed with the eyes of a careful
mother. Blood and mould mingled on my face, my dress needed a laundress
as badly as a dress could, and my shoes were scratched and muddy.
"And who is this girl?" asked mother. I had become conscious that Norah
was at my feet, wiping off my shoes with her queer little brown frock.
"It's a new friend of mine," gasped I, beginning to see that I must lose her,
and hoping the lump in my throat wouldn't get any bigger than it was.
"What is her name?" asked mother. I had no time to answer. The girl did
that.
"I'm Norah Madigan," she said. Her tone was respectful, and, maybe, sad. At
any rate, it had a curious sound.
"Norah Mad-i-gan?" asked mother doubtfully, stringing out the word.
"Yessum," said a low voice. "Goodbye, mum."
"Oh, Norah!" cried I, a strange pain stabbing my heart. "Come to see me—"
But my mother's voice broke in, firm and kind.
"Good-bye, Norah," said she.
I saw Norah turn and run up among the trees, almost as swiftly and silently
as a hare. Once, she turned to look back. I was watching, and caught the
chance to wave my hand to her.
"Come!" commanded mother, and we went back to where father was sitting.
"What do you think!" said mother. "I found the child playing with one of the
Bad Madigans. Isn't she a sight!"
The lump in my throat swelled to a terrible size; something buzzed in my
ears, and I heard some one weeping. For a second or two I didn't realise that
it was myself.
"Well, never mind, dear," said mother's voice soothingly. "The frock will
wash, and the tear will mend, and the shoes will black. Yes, and the
scratches will heal."
"It isn't that," I sobbed. "Oh, oh, it isn't that!"
"What is it, then, for goodness sake?" asked mother.
But I would not tell. I could not tell. How could I say that the daughter of the
Bad Madigans was the first real and satisfying playmate I had ever had?
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