“RAGS! bones! old iron!” Merrimeg put her head out of the front window and looked down the street.
A queer man with a dirty face was coming along, and he was bending down under a heavy sack which he was carrying on his back.
“Rags! bones! old iron!” he cried, and all the children who were playing in the street ran indoors in a fright.
It was the Rag-Bone Man. Everybody said that if you didn’t look sharp he’d snatch you up and stuff you in his sack and carry you off and never, never bring you back any more; so all the children in that village were terribly afraid of him, and whenever they saw him coming they simply took to their heels and fled.
“Rags! bones! old iron!” cried the Rag-Bone Man.
[96]“Oh, pshaw,” said Merrimeg, “I’m not afraid.”
She went out into the street and watched him coming. He came on nearer and nearer. He reached the house next door and stopped there and stared at Merrimeg.
“Rags! bones! old iron!” he shouted out, at the top of his voice, and quick as a wink Merrimeg sprang back into the house and banged the door and bolted it and ran to her room and buried her head under the pillows. It was a long time before she came out again.
When she did come out, she didn’t go into the street, because the Rag-Bone Man was still there, probably. She went into the cabbage garden, where her mother was hanging up clothes.
“Where are you going, Merrimeg?” said her mother.
“Nowhere,” said Merrimeg.
“You’d better go over to Tish’s house now. They’re expecting you to have supper with them. And don’t get your dress soiled, and don’t stay too late.”
[97]“No’m,” said Merrimeg.
“Before you go, take these handkerchiefs and spread them out on the rose bushes in the sun to dry.”
“Yes’m,” said Merrimeg.
Her mother kissed her, and went into the kitchen; and Merrimeg, carrying the wet handkerchiefs, walked over to the apple orchard, thinking about apples, and forgetting all about the rose bushes. She always liked to eat apples just before meals.
In the orchard she stopped under a tree and reached up towards the lowest branch, and just at that moment she heard the sound of some one crying. It seemed to come from the other side of the tree. She tiptoed around the tree to see who it was.
It was the Rag-Bone Man. He was sitting on the ground, with his back against the tree, and his sack beside him, and he was crying to himself pretty loud, and sniffling and wiping away the tears with the back of his hand.
[98]Merrimeg was so frightened that she could not move.
 
“GIMME A HANDKERCHIEF QUICK,” SAID THE RAG-BONE MAN
 
“Gimme a handkerchief, quick,” said the Rag-Bone Man, and he snatched the handkerchiefs out of her hand and put one of them to his nose.
“Oh!” he said, and threw the handkerchiefs down. “They’re wet! They won’t do! What good is a wet handkerchief? Haven’t you got a dry one?”
“No, sir,” said Merrimeg, in a shaky little voice.
“Then it’s no use,” said the Rag-Bone Man. “I reckon I’ll have to stop crying. You can’t cry without a handkerchief. Why didn’t you bring me a dry one?”
“I didn’t know you wanted one,” said Merrimeg.
“Well, you didn’t think I could cry into a wet one, did you? You don’t expect me to do that, do you? Do you, or don’t you?”
“No, sir,” said Merrimeg.
“The next time you come around me when[99] I’m crying, you bring me a dry one, d’you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Merrimeg.
“Don’t say ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ all the time. Why don’t you ask me what I’m crying about?”
“Yes, sir,” said Merrimeg, twisting her apron. “I mean—if you please——”
“I’m crying about—I’m crying about—oh, dear! I’m going to cry again, I know I am! And I never have any handkerchief!”
He burst into tears again, and Merrimeg began to feel sorry for him.
“Yes, sir?” said she.
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and smeared the dirt all over it most terribly.
“It’s—it’s—about the children,” he said, crying out louder than before. “I can’t—I can’t—help it. It’s because they—they won’t come near me—they’re afraid of me—they won’t speak to me—they won’t let me tell ’em about Rags—they run away from me—oh, it’s too hard, it’s too hard!”
[100]He sniffled and gulped. Merrimeg felt very sorry for him indeed.
“Please, sir,” said she, “do you want——”
“I want a handkerchief. Look in that bag and see if you can find one. Oh, dear! If the children would only let me speak to ’em! Then I could tell ’em all about Rags! Why don’t you hurry? Can’t you see I need a handkerchief? Will you, or won’t you?”
Merrimeg quickly opened the sack. She put her head down into it and looked in; and before she knew what was going on her heels were lifted up and she was plopped down head first into the bag, and there she was, tied up tight inside the rag-bone sack.
She kicked and screamed, but it wasn’t any use. The Rag-Bone Man slung the sack on his back and made off through the orchard as fast as he could go.
Merrimeg stopped kicking, when she found it wasn’t any use, and after a long time she came down on the ground with a bump, and she heard the Rag-Bone Man call out, “Open the door!”
[101]The sack was untied, and she stood up. She was standing before a little house in the woods, and the trees about it were dark and gloomy, and the sun had gone down.
The door of the little house opened, and a little girl, smaller than Merrimeg, stood in the doorway. She was a very ragged little girl, and her face was dirty and sad. She looked at Merrimeg with big solemn eyes.
“I’ve brought you one at last!” cried the Rag-Bone Man. “Here she is! I’ve got one for you at last! Somebody to play with! Here she is, and she’s going to stay with you and play with you, and never go home any more! Now we’ve got her we’ll keep her. Now you’ll have company! Ain’t she a pretty one, though? Ain’t I a good father? Come in, come on in!”
He seized the two little girls by the hand and ran into the house with them.
It was a tiny house, with only two rooms, one in front and one behind. The Rag-Bone Man began to get out plates and knives and forks and[102] set them about on a table in the front room. The two little girls stood staring at each other.
“What’s your name?” said the Rag-Bone Man’s little girl.
“Merrimeg,” said she.
“My name is Rags. That’s my father. He’s been trying for a long, long time to bring me somebody to live with me here and play with me, but they always ran away from him. You’re the first. Are you lonely?”
“No,” said Merrimeg.
“I am. But I won’t be any longer. I’ve got you to play with me now.”
“Can’t I—ever—go home—any more?” said Merrimeg.
“Oh, father!” said little Rags. “She wants to go home already!”
“Go home?” cried the Rag-Bone Man. “Are you talking about going home already? Oh, dear, don’t make me cry again! If you talk like that, I’ll cry, I know I will! You can’t leave us! It wouldn’t do! No, no! Sit down and eat your supper. Oh, dear, she wants to go home!”
[103]They sat down at the table, but Merrimeg couldn’t eat; and after supper Rags and Merrimeg went to bed together in a little bed in the back room. The stars shone in through the window.
“To-morrow,” said Rags, pulling the covers up over Merrimeg, “we’ll have a grand play in the woods all day. Oh, won’t I be happy, though! I know where there’s a lot of wild strawberries, and a brook with crawly things on the bottom, and—oh, I’m so glad you’ve come! And father won’t ever let you leave me as long as you live! Oh, isn’t it jolly! I’ll never be lonely any more!”
She sighed with happiness, and nestled her head down on the pillow, and went to sleep.
But Merrimeg didn’t go to sleep. She thought about her mother, and what would happen if she never went home any more, and how she would miss her mother, and what the other children in the village would say after she’d been away for years and years, and—she sat up in bed. The little house was very still. She made up her[104] mind that if she was ever going to get home, she had better try to steal away now. She got up quietly and dressed herself, and opened the do............