THE PEDLAR'S BAG.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 74, 29 March 1933, Page 14

THE PEDLAR'S BAG.

(By Myrtle Ford, 8, Arthur Street, Ellerslie ; aged 11.) On her way home through the woods a poor little girl named Yolande, who was clad in coarse garments and had bare arms and legs, was gathering wild flowers. As she approached a tall elm tree she saw an old pedlar sitting on a tree trunk. By his side was a big bag full of the goods he was selling. He looked very tired, and Yolande felt sorry for him.

"Are you in trouble?" she asked, "Can I help you?"

"It is nothing much, I am only very tired," he replied. "Then let me help you across to our little cottage, where you can rest in comfort. Perhaps my step-mother will give you a drink of milk."

When they arrived at the little girl's cottage her step-mother was standing by the door waiting for her. "You did scare me," she cried. "1 wondered who ever it was you had found."

"This old gentleman is very tired and hungry," explained Yolande. "Can you find him a glass of milk?"

"There is only your milk for your supper," was the reply. "Then he may have it," said the kindhearted little girl. The poor old pedlar sipped the milk gratefully.

"Doesn't she look like a fairy princess," he said to Yolande's step-mother. Then the dame grey very angry.

"Please do not put foolish notions in the child's head," she answered curtly. "Now show me your goods."

The old pedlar made no answer, but quietly opened his bag. Little Yolande gasped with delight when she saw the contents. There lay silks and ribbons and cottons of all colours, knitting wools and brightly coloured kerchiefs. "Why, I should look like a prince3S if I were dressed in such lovely things," cried Yolande.

But at that moment her step-mothei grew suddenly angry.

"Whatever has come over everybody, talking about your being a princess?" she cried crossly. "Hold your tongue and do not let me hear such nonsense." "Please do not scold her, dame," pleaded the pedlar. When he lifted the top layer, there lay beneath sticks of peppermint, toffee, almond rock, and sticks of chocolate.

"For your kindness to me you may have which sweet you like," he said, so Yolande chose a stick of toffee.

"And the next layer," he continued, "contains my secrets."

Then, with a wave of his hand, he hurried down the path and disappeared.

Three or four weeks later Yolande was walking in the wood again when she saw on the same tree trunk the familiar bag. But there was no sign of the old pedlar. She called again and again, but there was no answer. "I will look in the bag—perhaps that will help mc," she thought. The top layer was empty, the silks and cottons had disappeared. She lifted the tray and looked beneath. But there were no sweets left. So she lifted the second layer and peeped in there. It contained a piece of paper, and on it was written: "To Yolande, —Bo at this spot at sunset.—The Pedlar."

Whatever could it mean? Perhaps he wanted help again. Yolande could hardly wait until sunset. At the appointed time up came three horsemen with the old pedlar.

"There she is!" cried the old pedlar. The horsemen took ofT their plumed hats and bowed. Then one leaned over and lifted Yolande on to his horse.

"Have no fear, all is well," laughed the pedlar. "You are really a princess, but you were stolen away and hidden in a woodman's cottage when you were a baby." When they arrived at the palace Yolande was received with great applause. ....,„ "It was the old pedlar who did it, said the Kins;. "He shall be rewarded." "And ask him to let me keep his old ba<* as a keepsake," added Yolande.