PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.
PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.

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TO ONE OF KENTUCKY'S DEAREST LITTLE DAUGHTERS
HERSELF--THIS REMEMBRANCE OF A HAPPY SUMMER IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED
"'CAUSE I'M SO MUCH LIKE YOU,' WAS THE STARTLING ANSWER". "THE SAME TEMPER SEEMED TO BE BURNING IN THE EYES OF THE CHILD". "WITH THE PARROT PERCHED ON THE BROOM SHE WAS CARRYING". "THE LITTLE COLONEL CLATTERED UP AND DOWN THE HALL". "SINGING AT THE TOP OF HER VOICE". "'TELL ME GOOD-BY, BABY DEAR,' SAID MRS. SHERMAN". "'AMANTHIS,' REPEATED THE CHILD DREAMILY". "SHE CLIMBED UP IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR". "THE SWEET LITTLE VOICE SANG IT TO THE END".
It was one of the prettiest places in all Kentucky where the Little Colonel stood that morning. She was reaching up on tiptoes, her eager little face pressed close against the iron bars of the great entrance gate that led to a fine old estate known as "Locust."
A ragged little Scotch and Skye terrier stood on its hind feet beside her, thrusting his inquisitive nose between the bars, and wagging his tasselled tail in lively approval of the scene before them.
They were looking down a long avenue that stretched for nearly a quarter of a mile between rows of stately old locust-trees.
At the far end they could see the white pillars of a large stone house gleaming through the Virginia creeper that nearly covered it. But they could not see the old Colonel in his big chair on the porch behind the cool screen of vines.

Arthur Conan Doyle