A Modern Cinderella; Or, The Little Old Shoe, and Other StoriesAlcott, Louisa May
General
A Modern Cinderella; Or, The Little Old Shoe, and Other Stories
Alcott, Louisa May
Fiction; Short stories
Nelly had often heard the words, but did not quite understand what they
meant. So Will told her of that great never-failing charity, to which
thousands owe their lives; and the child listened with lips apart, eyes
often full, and so much love and admiration in her heart that she could
find no words in which to tell it. When her brother paused, she said
earnestly: "Yes, I will be a Sanitary. This little cart of mine shall
be my amb'lance, and I'll never let my water-barrels go empty, never
drive too fast, or be rough with my poor passengers, like some of the
men you tell about. Does this look like an ambulance, Will?"
"Not a bit, but it shall, if you and mamma like to help me. I want
four long bits of cane, a square of white cloth, some pieces of thin
wood, and the gum-pot," said Will, sitting up to examine the little
cart, feeling like a boy again as he took out his knife and began to
whittle. Upstairs and downstairs ran Nelly till all necessary materials
were collected, and almost breathlessly she watched her brother arch
the canes over the cart, cover them with the cloth, and fit an upper
shelf of small compartments, each lined with cotton-wool to serve as
beds for wounded insects, lest they should hurt one another or jostle
out. The lower part was left free for any larger creatures which Nelly
might find. Among her toys she had a tiny cask which only needed a peg
to be water-tight; this was filled and fitted in before, because, as
the small sufferers needed no seats, there was no place for it behind,
and, as Nelly was both horse and driver, it was more convenient in
front. On each side of it stood a box of stores. In one were minute
rollers, as bandages are called, a few bottles not yet filled, and a
wee doll's jar of cold-cream, because Nelly could not feel that her
outfit was complete without a medicine-chest. The other box was full of
crumbs, bits of sugar, bird-seed, and grains of wheat and corn, lest
any famished stranger should die for want of food before she got it
home. Then mamma painted "U.S. San. Com." in bright letters on the
cover, and Nelly received her charitable plaything with a long sigh of
satisfaction.
"Nine o'clock already. Bless me, what a short evening this has been,"
exclaimed Will, as Nelly came to give him her good-night kiss.
"And such a happy one," she answered.
"Thank you very, very much, dear Will. I only wish my little amb'lance
was big enough for you to go in,--I'd so like to give you the first
ride."
"Nothing I should like better, if it were possible, though I've a
prejudice against ambulances in general. But as I cannot ride, I'll
try and hop out to your hospital to-morrow, and see how you get
on,"--which was a great deal for Captain Will to say, because he had
been too listless to leave his sofa for several days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account