Anytime Tales Read Free

if she was very good, doesn’t it? Yet nobody liked her!
    “Queenie’s queer,” said John, who lived next door. “She never feels sorry for anyone! When I fell off the garden wall the other day, and made my head bleed, Queenie just stood and stared at me. It was Elsie who rushed up and helped me.”
    “And you know that poor blind man who stands at the corner of the main road, don’t you?” said Katie. “Well, we’ve all given him a penny at times—but Queenie told me she never had. And when I said ‘But aren’t you sorry he’s blind? Don’t you want to help him?’ she said No, she didn’t. She
is
queer.”
    “The other day I went to tea with her,” said Lennie. “Her mother had a dreadful headache, so I thought we would play a game that didn’t make much noise. But Queenie shouted and laughed as loudly as anything. And she’s got such a nice, kind mother! I think there’s something the matter with Queenie.”
    “It’s what I said,” said John. “She’s never sorry for anyone. She’s not warm-hearted. She’s pretty and clever and neat, and good at games—but you just can’t like her!”
    Now one day Queenie’s grandmother came to see her. The poor old lady had fallen down the stairs the day before and had hurt her knee, so she could only just hobble along with a stick. But did Queenie rush to get her a chair, or put her a footstool for her bad leg to rest on? Did she kiss her kind old granny and say she was sorry about her leg?
    No, she didn’t. She let her mother get the chair and the footstool. Her granny looked at her then spoke to her mother.
    “There’s something wrong with Queenie. She’s never sorry for anyone, so she’s never kind. I think there must be something wrong with her heart. She’s cold-hearted, and that’s a most terrible thing to be, because she will never know what it is to be really happy! You must have a warm heart to be happy.”
    Queenie thought her granny was silly. “I am happy,” she said. “And why should I be sorry for people? I am never sorry for myself.”
    “You have no need to be,” said her granny, impatiently. “You are pretty and clever; you have nice clothes and good food to eat. You have a kind father and mother, and plenty of toys. You have no cause to be sorry for yourself. But because you are such a lucky little girl you should be grateful, and try to feel sorry for those who are not so well off, and who may be very ill or unhappy.”

    “You are always preaching. Granny,” said Queenie, rather crossly.
    Her mother was worried to hear what granny said and she made up her mind to take Queenie to the doctor. So the next day she set off with Queenie. The little girl didn’t want to go, and she hung behind all the way. But at last they were there and the wise old doctor was looking at the little girl.
    He listened to her heart. He felt all round it. He tapped it. He stroked the skin over it. Then he shook his head.
    “It seems all right,” he said, “and yet there certainly is something wrong with it. Bring her again soon and I will try and find out what is the matter. Most extraordinary!”
    Queenie’s mother was upset and frightened to hear what the doctor said. As they went through the woods on their way home, she cried and tears ran down her cheeks. Queenie saw them, but she didn’t bother to comfort her mother.
    Soon they met a small bent old woman who lived all by herself in the wood. Everyone thought she must be more than a hundred years old. She stopped when she saw Queenie’s mother crying, and asked her what was the matter.
    “There’s something wrong with my little Queenie’s heart,” said the little girl’s mother, “but the doctor doesn’t know what it is.”
    “Well, maybe
I
can find out!” said the little woman. “There’s many a queer spell I know to put hearts right. I’ll have a look at Queenie’s.”

    “You can’t! It’s inside me,” said Queenie. But the old woman only laughed and clapped Queenie