THE LOST BOY

Dominion, Volume 24, Issue 62, 6 December 1930, Page 24

THE LOST BOY

ORIGINAL SHORT STORY There was once a wealthy family living in London by the name of Fitzroy. Mr. Fitzroy was a famous barrister, and his wife was well-known for her children’s stories. Anne, their ten-year-old daughter, was a very kind-hearted child, who never overlooked sending her toys as Christmas presents to children in orphanages and hospitals. It was nearing Christmas one year, and Anne was packing up her toys for sick children. When she had finished packing, Anne felt very tired, but she ran to her mother crying “I’ve finished. mother. May we deliver the gifts?” “Yes, my dear,” replied Mrs. Fitzroy. “Run and get your coat.”

Anne did not need a second bidding. She raced to her room and hurried into her outdoor clothes. Three minutes later, accompanied by her’ mother, Anne stepped into a beautiful silver grey Roll? Royce. The chauffeur carefully closed the doors, and away they went to the hospital. After Anne had distributed the gifts she was returning to the waiting car, when her attention was attracted by a brighteyed little boy, who appeared to be about twelve years old. Anne ran to her mother and pointed the little lad out to her.

“My kind-hearted little Anne,” she said, “bring him to me and let me see him.”

Anne ran over to the boy and grasping his hand, took him to her mother. “What is your name, my child?” asked Mrs. Fitzroy. “The boys called me Jumbo,” he replied.

“What boys!” inquired Anne. “Oh. I was ill and someone kindly took me to the hospital.” he replied. “The boys in my ward called me Jumbo.”

“Why did you say someone very kind took you to the hospital,” asked Mrs. Fitzroy. "Won’t you tell us your story?” “Well,” replied the lad, “I can hardly remember. When I was a little child my nurse took me for a walk near St. James’ Place. I wanted to look in a shop window, but nurse didn’t. So I let go her hand and ran to the window. The streets were very crowded—it was Christmas Eve—and I lost nurse. I walked and walked and walked, until I found rayself in the country. I toddled for years and begged for food until I was ten. Then. I walked back to London, but became very ill. A kind gentleman took me to the hospital; but he died before I came out again.” “There were tears in Mrs. Fitzroy’s eyes when Jumbo had told his story. She took him into the car, and when they arrived home she began , to feel that she had met Jumbo somewhere before. _ '

“What is your real name?” she asked.

“I think it is Christopher Fitzroy,” he replied. “Oh dear, my lost boy is found,” cried Mrs. Fitzroy between her sobs of happiness.

—By Paula Matthews, aged 11, Wellington.