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Curly Locks by Anonymous
</title>
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45477 ***</div>
<div style="height: 8em;">
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
</div>
<h1>
CURLY LOCKS.
</h1>
<h2>
By Anonymous
</h2>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0001m.jpg" alt="0001m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0001.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> am going to tell
you the story of a dear, good little girl, called Curly Locks. Of course
that was not her <i>real</i> name; her real name was Alice, but she was
called Curly Locks because she had such beautiful hair, which hung down
her back in golden ringlets. Some people think that <i>all</i> the good
children are in story-books; that there were no real good children. Yes, I
have actually heard some grown-up people say this, that all the live
children were bad, and all the good ones were in story-books. Now I think
that people who believe this, must have been very bad themselves when
young, and so have a bad opinion of children generally. Curly Locks was an
unusually good child, good enough to write a whole book about. Never shall
I forget the first time I ever saw her, for never did I see a prettier
picture, no, not in all the art galleries of Europe. She was sitting in a
large, velvet chair sewing doll-clothes, at the same time singing a sweet
song, stopping now and then to tell dollie to be good and go to sleep,
though poor dollie looked as if she was not very comfortable. I have tried
to show you in the picture here how she looked, but the picture of a
pretty little girl could never be as pretty as the little girl herself.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0003m.jpg" alt="0003m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0003.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">C</span>urly Locks lived
in a very large city and went to a Kindergarten. Do you go to a
Kindergarten, little Reader? I hope so, for they are the nicest places in
the world for small children. I must tell you about a party that the
children had who went to the Kindergarten with Curly Locks. Some kind
ladies wished to have a free Kindergarten for little boys and girls who
were not able to pay, so it was suggested that there should be a
children's féte at one of the ladies' houses who lived a short distance in
the country.
</p>
<p>
To make it more interesting, they concluded that the children should wear
fancy costumes. Well, it was a beautiful sight: so many little people
dressed in so many different styles; there were Lords and Ladies, princes
and peasants, and all sorts of characters represented; but I will not
describe any except that of Curly Locks. She went as the "Mary that had
the little Lamb, whose fleece was white as snow." Fortunately a few weeks
before the féte came off, her uncle, who lived in the country, sent her
for a present the dearest little white lamb. Oh! how Curly Locks loved it,
and how delighted she was when her mother told her that she could take it
to the party with her.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0006m.jpg" alt="0006m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0006.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>he had named it
Snow Drop, because it looked so pure and white when she first saw it. She
had to have it washed for the party though, or she could not have sung
"its fleece was white as snow." You can not keep lambs white in large
cities very well. Snow Drop was worthy his name though, when dressed for
the party—he had a blue ribbon with a tiny silver bell around his
neck. I think Curly Locks with her little lamb at her side, was more
admired than any other character at the fête, and she enjoyed it all so
much—the little children, the green grass, the bright flowers, the
music, the ice-cream—oh! it was all a delight to her, and the fresh
air brought such a pretty pink color to her cheeks, that Papa said when
school was out, she could go and make her kind uncle a visit in the
country.
</p>
<p>
Well, Curly Locks dreamed of the country all that night, and in a few
weeks her Mamma and Papa took her to her uncle's. I could not begin to
tell you of all the pleasures she had daring the time she was there, but I
will try and tell what she liked best. She had a cousin near her own age
named Harry, and they often went fishing together. There was a creek near
the house, and as it was not dangerous, her Mamma was not afraid for her
to go. To be sure there were only small fish in this creek, but they were
small children, and could not have caught large fish had there been any.
Sometimes when tired of fishing, they would put their rods on the grass,
and hunt pretty pebbles and small shells in the sand—this was great
fun for Curly Locks—better than fishing, and she carried home with
her that Fall several bottles of pretty stones and shells, into which she
poured a little clear water, which made them look much brighter.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0007m.jpg" alt="0007m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0007.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<p class="pfirst">
<span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>ne of her greatest
delights was feeding the pigeons. Her cousin Harry had a great flock of
them—most of which were white, but he had all varieties; and fine
specimens they were; there were fan-tails, pouters, tumblers, top-knots,
and others. If you don't know the meaning of pouters and tumblers, ask
your Papa and he will tell you.
</p>
<p>
Every time Curly Locks went near the barn, which was their home, they
would fly down to her, and <i>what</i> a noise they would make! She would
take them in her hands and talk to them, and they would talk back, but
Curly Locks did not understand pigeon talk, so I cannot tell you what they
said, though I have no doubt but that they were thanking her for feeding
them.
</p>
<p>
She was feeding them one morning when Harry came running to her, his face
beaming with pleasure: oh! Curly Locks! come! come quickly, Papa is going
to take us to the cave and Mamma and Auntie are going too, and they are
harnessing the old white horse to the Jersey wagon now, and we are going
to take our dinner! Harry stopped for want of breath, when Curly Locks
said good-bye to the pigeons and went with all haste back to the house
with Harry. There, sure enough, was old whitey and the Jersey standing at
the front door all ready, and the two Mammas busy putting up a luncheon.
Now, <i>ALL</i> are ready, and off they go—the two little ones in
front, with Uncle and the two Mammas on the back seat. It was a lovely
day, just warm enough to be pleasant. After a ride of several miles they
reached the cave, which was on the farm of a friend of Uncle's. They first
went to the house, where they were warmly welcomed, and invited to take
dinner, but for the children's sake they declined, for as Harry said, that
would spoil the picnic altogether. Well! said the good-natured farmer,
then we will go with you—which they did with their two little girls,—and
a nice time they had. The mouth of the cave was quite large and opened
into an immense chamber, and all about there were small openings; peeping
into these, you could see nothing but darkness. The cave had only been
discovered a short time, and was a great mystery to every one. After
dinner, Harry proposed that they should play hide and seek in the cave,
which was the cause of a great shock to his parents. He crawled into one
of the small openings, and went so far that he could not find the way out,
as there were winding passages which seemed to open into large rooms. When
he found himself lost, he began to cry with all his might, which reached
the others with a faint, sad sound.
</p>
<p>
His father called in a terribly loud voice for him to stand still, as he
might, by trying to get out, get into worse danger, perhaps fall into some
water and drown himself. Well, it did not take long for his Papa, with a
light, to find him; but it was long enough to frighten them all badly—especially
his Mamma, who made Harry promise he would never again play hide and seek
in a cave. And that night, when Harry and Curly Locks said their prayers,
they thanked God that Harry was safe at home and not lost in a dark and
dismal cave.
</p>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0010m.jpg" alt="0010m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0010.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<p>
<br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
</p>
<div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
<img src="images/0012m.jpg" alt="0012m " width="100%" /><br />
</div>
<h5>
<a href="images/0012.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
</h5>
<h3>
THE END.
</h3>
<div style="height: 6em;">
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
</div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45477 ***</div>
</body>
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