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They were beginning to see the world with David's eyes. There were, too, the long twilights and evenings when David, on the wings of his violin, would speed away to his mountain home, leaving behind him a man and a woman who seemed to themselves to be listening to the voice of a curly-headed, rosy-cheeked lad who once played at their knees and nestled in their arms when the day was done.
It was the voice of a little curly-headed boy out of the past. When David stopped playing some time later, only the woman sat watching him the man was over at his desk, pen in hand. John, John's wife, and John's boy came the day before Christmas, and great was the excitement in the Holly farmhouse.
'Yes, yes, he exclaimed, 'it all comes back to me, and you are curly-headed Gordon Sellar. Had we been of any other race the right thing to do would have been to have fallen into each other arms, but seeing we were undemonstrative Scots we gripped hands though I could not hold back the tears of gratitude on seeing the man who had been so kind to me.
Well, tell him to come in.... So be it, then; for the sake of our good guest I will forgive the silly fellow.... Come, tell him, tell him. Tatyana Ilyinitchna went to the door, and cried 'Mitya! Mitya, a young man of twenty-eight, tall, well-made, and curly-headed, came into the room, and seeing me, stopped short in the doorway.
Such babies and such children, of all classes and conditions so jolly, smiling, dimpled, curly-headed; such joyous disregard of rags and dirt; such kindness one to the other in the little groups, where a child of ten would be giving an anxious eye to four or five brothers and sisters, and mothering a contented baby in arms as well. Our driver, though very loquacious, was not quite intelligible.
Over in another corner, under a window, was a red-faced cowboy, slumbering as tranquilly as the baby, his head sunk on his breast, a genial forelock waving lightly in the breeze. The fiddlers resumed their function. "Swing your pards!" cried the curly-headed boy; and once more all was commotion. The room seemed hot and crowded. Lem had shifted his position, and was standing opposite the windows.
The boy, curly-headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell into a reverie without finishing the story. He thought not of this pretty child, his son whom he held on his knee, but of himself.
We had never seen Peter's mother before, and we looked at her with discreet curiosity. She was a plump, black-eyed little woman, neat as a pin, but with a rather tired and care-worn face that looked as if it should have been rosy and jolly. Life had been a hard battle for her, and I rather think that her curly-headed little lad was all that had kept heart and spirit in her.
The situation began to be a little alarming. The messengers were again started out, with instructions to go farther and report at once if any trace was found. "Ten or fifteen minutes passed, and by this time Alsie's mamma was in a most excited state of mind, as you may well imagine, and felt perfectly sure that the little curly-headed damsel had been kidnaped.
I wish they could have the Walter Crane and Kate Greenaway picture-books, but I couldn't possibly let them go. I loved those little urchins in the children's room, especially that curly-headed little boy reading a bound Wide-Awake O!" She sat up in bed and tossed her thick braids back. "I wonder if I ought? Or even if I could?" Out of bed she slipped, and crossed the room to the bookcases.
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