The Little Sentinel.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVII, Issue XXII, 30 November 1901, Page 1059

The Little Sentinel.

“Nurse, what do you think mamma told me?” asked a little bit of a boy. “I haven’t the littlest idea,” answered nurse, as she looked up from the stocking she was mending. “Well, she said I might stay up nil night. You know, nurse, I’ve always wanted to.” “That is very good of mamma,” answered nurse. “And where are you going to spend the night?” “Well, men who camp out, you know, have a fire. I am going to pretend I’m camping out, and I’m going to spend the night by the parlour fire.”

“That’s a good idea.” “No. I think I’ll be a sentinel and walk up and down before the fire, with my gun over my shoulder.” “But a sentinel must not go to sleep. He must be on the watch ell the time and say—“l know! ‘Who goes there?’ ” “And you are going to watch all night?”

“I think I shall.” answered Harry proudly. It had long been Harry’s wish to sit up all night, and he could not help thinking his mamma very unkind never to let him. He teas'd so much that mamma finally said:

“Well, Harry, you may.” At about eight o’clock Harry, who

was usually in bed and asleep at that time, took his stand by the fire. His toy gun was over his shoulder, and on his head he wore his soldier cap. lip and down he walked before the tire, and at first it was great fun. Whenever he heard a sound he would call, “Who goes there?” And it would be papa coining to look for a book, or mamma. Once, when he called very loud, “Who goes there?” what do you think happened? The little white kitten ran into the room! Up and down, up and down, went Harry. Heavier and heavier grew the gun. Harder and harder was it to keep to the straight line in the carpet. Harry looked at the easy chair and the sofa, but proudly he shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to sit up all night, and I’m going to show mamma how much I want to!”

Oh, what a loop from the straight line that time, Harry! Time went on. Mamma and papa said goodnight. and white kitty curled herself up on the rug and went sound asleep. Harry’s eyes began to blink, but he held them as wide open as he could. Soon he had a lonely feeling. “A soldier should be brave,” he whispered.

“But why shouldn’t I sit down?” “Because you’d go to sleep,” a small voice within answered. So up and down Harry trudged. Soon something rolled down the sentinel’s cheek. Harry dashed it away, but then another something rolled down the other cheek.

“I’m a baby!” the little boy sobbed. But still he kept marching. Everything in the room seemed to swing—and swing—and swing. His feet were too tired. He tripped and fell upon the soft rug. How soft it was! He couldn’t get up. He heard some one.

“Who goes there?” he asked, feebly. “The Sand Man,” a gentle voice answered, that sounded something like papa's and mamma’s combined.