Bessie's Doll

"Bessie's Doll" is a charming short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery that explores themes of childhood innocence and imagination. The narrative follows young Bessie, a girl who longs for a beautiful doll to call her own. Through her experiences, the story captures the joys and disappointments of childhood, as well as the importance of friendship and the simple treasures that bring happiness. Montgomery's lyrical prose and insightful character development make this tale a poignant reminder of the power of dreams and the joys of youthful creativity.

• Short story

								
Tommy Puffer, sauntering up the street, stopped to look at Miss
Octavia's geraniums. Tommy never could help stopping to look at Miss
Octavia's flowers, much as he hated Miss Octavia. Today they were
certainly worth looking at. Miss Octavia had set them all out on her
verandah--rows upon rows of them, overflowing down the steps in waves
of blossom and colour. Miss Octavia's geraniums were famous in
Arundel, and she was very proud of them. But it was her garden which
was really the delight of her heart. Miss Octavia always had the
prettiest garden in Arundel, especially as far as annuals were
concerned. Just now it was like faith--the substance of things hoped
for. The poppies and nasturtiums and balsams and morning glories and
sweet peas had been sown in the brown beds on the lawn, but they had
not yet begun to come up.

Tommy was still feasting his eyes on the geraniums when Miss Octavia
herself came around the corner of the house. Her face darkened the
minute she saw Tommy. Most people's did. Tommy had the reputation of
being a very bad, mischievous boy; he was certainly very poor and
ragged, and Miss Octavia disapproved of poverty and rags on principle.
Nobody, she argued, not even a boy of twelve, need be poor and ragged
if he is willing to work.

"Here, you, get away out of this," she said sharply. "I'm not going to
have you hanging over my palings."

"I ain't hurting your old palings," retorted Tommy sullenly. "I was
jist a-looking at the flowers."

"Yes, and picking out the next one to throw a stone at," said Miss
Octavia sarcastically. "It was you who threw that stone and broke my
big scarlet geranium clear off the other day."

"It wasn't--I never chucked a stone at your flowers," said Tommy.

"Don't tell me any falsehoods, Tommy Puffer. It was you. Didn't I
catch you firing stones at my cat a dozen times?"

"I might have fired 'em at an old cat, but I wouldn't tech a flower,"
avowed Tommy boldly--brazenly, Miss Octavia thought.

"You clear out of this or I'll make you," she said warningly.

Tommy had had his ears boxed by Miss Octavia more than once. He had no
desire to have the performance repeated, so he stuck his tongue out at
Miss Octavia and then marched up the street with his hands in his
pockets, whistling jauntily.

"He's the most impudent brat I ever saw in my life," muttered Miss
Octavia wrathfully. There was a standing feud between her and all the
Arundel small boys, but Tommy was her special object of dislike.

Tommy's heart was full of wrath and bitterness as he marched away. He
hated Miss Octavia; he wished something would happen to every one of
her flowers; he knew it was Ned Williams who had thrown that stone,
and he hoped Ned would throw some more and smash all the flowers. So
Tommy raged along the street until he came to Mr. Blacklock's store,
and in the window of it he saw something that put Miss Octavia and her
disagreeable remarks quite out of his tow-coloured head.

This was nothing more or less than a doll. Now, Tommy was not a judge
of dolls and did not take much interest in them, but he felt quite
sure that this was a very fine one. It was so big; it was beautifully
dressed in blue silk, with a ruffled blue silk hat; it had lovely long
golden hair and big brown eyes and pink cheeks; and it stood right up
in the showcase and held out its hands winningly.

"Gee, ain't it a beauty!" said Tommy admiringly. "It looks 'sif it was
alive, and it's as big as a baby. I must go an' bring Bessie to see
it."

Tommy at once hurried away to the shabby little street where what he
called "home" was. Tommy's home was a very homeless-looking sort of
place. It was the smallest, dingiest, most slatternly house on a
street noted for its dingy and slatternly houses. It was occupied by a
slatternly mother and a drunken father, as well as by Tommy; and
neither the father nor the mother took much notice of Tommy except to
scold or nag him. So it is hardly to be wondered at if Tommy was the
sort of boy who was frowned upon by respectable citizens.

But one little white blossom of pure affection bloomed in the arid
desert of Tommy's existence for all that. In the preceding fall a new
family had come to Arundel and moved into the tiny house next to the
Puffers'. It was a small, dingy house, just like the others, but
before long a great change took place in it. The new family were
thrifty, industrious folks, although they were very poor. The little
house was white-washed, the paling neatly mended, the bit of a yard
cleaned of all its rubbish. Muslin curtains appeared in the windows,
and rows of cans, with blossoming plants, adorned the sills.

There were just three people in the Knox family--a thin little mother,
who went out scrubbing and took in washing, a boy of ten, who sold
newspapers and ran errands--and Bessie.

Bessie was eight years old and walked with a crutch, but she was a
smart little lassie and kept the house wonderfully neat and tidy while
her mother was away. The very first time she had seen Tommy she had
smiled at him sweetly and said, "Good morning." From that moment Tommy
was her devoted slave. Nobody had ever spoken like that to him before;
nobody had ever smiled so at him. Tommy would have given his useless
little life for Bessie, and thenceforth the time he was not devising
mischief he spent in bringing little pleasures into her life. It was
Tommy's delight to bring that smile to her pale little face and a look
of pleasure into her big, patient blue eyes. The other boys on the
street tried to tease Bessie at first and shouted "Cripple!" after her
when she limped out. But they soon stopped it. Tommy thrashed them
all one after another for it, and Bessie was left in peace. She would
have had a very lonely life if it had not been for Tommy, for she
could not play with the other children. But Tommy was as good as a
dozen playmates, and Bessie thought him the best boy in the world.
Tommy, whatever he might be with others, was very careful to be good
when he was with Bessie. He never said a rude word in her hearing, and
he treated her as if she were a little princess. Miss Octavia would
have been amazed beyond measure if she had seen how tender and
thoughtful and kind and chivalrous that neglected urchin of a Tommy
could be when he tried.

Tommy found Bessie sitting by the kitchen window, looking dreamily out
of it. For just a moment Tommy thought uneasily that Bessie was
looking very pale and thin this spring.

"Bessie, come for a walk up to Mr. Blacklock's store," he said
eagerly. "There is something there I want to show you."

"What is it?" Bessie wanted to know. But Tommy only winked
mysteriously.

"Ah, I ain't going to tell you. But it's something awful pretty. Just
you wait."

Bessie reached for her crutch and the two went up to the store, Tommy
carefully suiting his steps to Bessie's slow ones. Just before they

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