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Updated: June 15, 2025
This letter was addressed to Mrs. Maggie stamped it, and, flying downstairs, popped it into the box which held the letters. Laburnum Villa, in the suburb of Clapham, was, in the new Mrs. Martin's eyes, quite a delightful place. She had never appreciated her first husband, Professor Howland, but she thoroughly appreciated Bo-peep, and after her own fashion was fond of him. He gave her comforts.
Molly would make an ideal shepherdess. Hester was to be in white, and was to represent St Agnes. Nora was to be Queen of the Fairies, and Nan little Bo-Peep. Annie had not yet decided on her own character, but was strongly inclined to act the part of a gipsy.
It puzzles me now, that I remember all those young impressions so, because I took no heed of them at the time whatever; and yet they come upon me bright, when nothing else is evident in the gray fog of experience. I am like an old man gazing at the outside of his spectacles, and seeing, as he rubs the dust, the image of his grandson playing at bo-peep with him.
They stood facing each other on the grass, and Little Boy Blue began the following song: "Oh, Little Bo-Peep, when the sun is shining And the birds are up in the tree; When there's never a cause for sad repining, And we're happy as we can be; When breezes blow through the vale and hollow, And glade and garden and glen, Oh, whom does your heart in its rapture follow, And whom do you think of then?"
He is groping in the dark and he is angry. He has lost a daughter somewhere in the wilds of Europe, and he realises that he cannot hope to become the grandfather of princes unless he can produce a mother for them. At present he seems to be desperate. He doesn't know where to find her, as Little Bo-peep might have said. We may expect to catch him in a very ugly and obstreperous mood.
Here sits a stalwart gentleman of middle age, with a little boy and girl on either knee, who play bo-peep with his wide-spreading yellow beard. How they all laugh! and what a pleasant laugh has the stalwart, dark-eyed gentleman, so deep-toned and yet so boyish! But presently all three pause to take breath. "Thor," then says the gentleman, "whose portrait did I tell you that was?"
It is probable you left some obscure comrade at a tavern, or in the farms, with right mother-wit, and equality to life, when you crossed sea and land to play bo-peep with celebrated scribes.
The gentlemen applauded so enthusiastically that she gave them "Bounding Billows," "Little Bo-Peep," and other gems of song, till they were obliged to hint that they had had enough. Grateful for the praises bestowed upon her daughter, Mrs. Smith graciously announced, "Now we will have tea. Sit down carefully, and don't grab."
On the contrary, he had dropped hints that his birdling, his Little-sing, his Victoria, was in the early bloom of youth. But now he said that she was a wonderful woman for her years. Mrs. Howland bridled slightly. "I am not old, James," she said. "Come, come," said the good-natured grocer; "no 'Jamesing' of me. I'm your Bo-peep.
Gottlieb glanced from his aunt to his uncle. "Strange people these," thought he. "I think they are playing bo-peep with each other, or perhaps they are blinding me; well, I care not; so long as they do not disturb me, I will not meddle with their affairs."
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