As muchas seventy years ago, in the city of Boston, there lived a small girl who hadthe naughty habit of running away. On a certain April morning, almost as soonas her mother finished buttoning her dress, Louisa May Alcott slipped out ofthe house and up the street as fast as her feet could carry her.
Louisacrept through a narrow alley and crossed several streets. It was a beautifulday, and she did not care so very much just where she went so long as she washaving an adventure, all by herself. Suddenly she came upon some children whosaid they were going to a nice, tall ash heap to play. They asked her to jointhem.
Louisathought they were fine playmates, for when she grew hungry they shared somecold potatoes and bread crusts with her. She would not have thought this muchof a lunch in her mother's dining-room, but for an outdoor picnic it did verywell.
When shetired of the ash heap she bade the children good-by, thanked them for theirkindness, and hop-skipped to the Common, where she must have wandered about forhours, because, all of a sudden, it began to grow dark. Then she wanted to gethome. She wanted her doll, her kitty, and her mother! It frightened her whenshe could not find any street that looked natural. She was hungry and tired,too. She threw herself down on some door-steps to rest and to watch thelamplighter, for you must remember this was long before there was any gas orelectricity in Boston. At this moment a big dog came along. He kissed her faceand hands and then sat down beside her with a sober look in his eyes, as if hewere thinking: "I guess, Little Girl, you need someone to take care ofyou!"
Poortired Louisa leaned against his neck and was fast asleep in no time. The dogkept very still. He did not want to wake her.
Prettysoon the town crier went by. He was ringing a bell and reading in a loud voice,from a paper in his hand, the description of a lost child. You see, Louisa'sfather and mother had missed her early in the forenoon and had looked for herin every place they could think of. Each hour they grew more worried, and atdusk they decided to hire this man to search the city.
When therunaway woke up and heard what the man was shouting—"Lost—Lost—A littlegirl, six years old, in a pink frock, white hat, and new, green shoes"—shecalled out in the darkness: "Why—dat's ME!"
The towncrier took Louisa by the hand and led her home, where you may be sure she waswelcomed with joy.
Mr. andMrs. Alcott, from first to last, had had a good many frights about this flyawayLouisa. Once when she was only two years old they were traveling with her on asteamboat, and she darted away, in some moment when no one was noticing her,and crawled into the engine-room to watch the machinery. Of course her clotheswere all grease and dirt, and she might have been caught in the machinery andhurt.
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