Tales of the Malayan Coast _ From Penang t - Rounsevelle Wildman

(Perpustakaan Sri Jauhari) #1

My companion dropped down among the decayed stumps of pineapples and
cocoanut refuse, and commenced to croon in a hoarse voice, “Daddy come,—
Daddy come,—poor dearie,” and made a motion as though to put the bottle to a
small, dirty white face that I could just make out among the rags.


I pushed him aside and gathered the unconscious little burden up into my arms.
There was no time for sentiment. Every minute I expected the miserable old
shelter would go over.


We made our way as best we could back through the darkness and driving blasts
of rain. The loafer followed with a long series of “God bless you’s.” He essayed
once or twice to hold the umbrella over his “little gal’s” head, but each time the
wind turned it inside out, and he gave it up with an air of feeble inconsequence
that characterized all his movements.


I put my burden down on a couch in the dining room, and chafed her hands and
feet, while the boy brought a beer bottle filled with hot water.


It was a sweet little face, pinched and drawn, with big hazel eyes, that looked up
into mine as my efforts sent the blood coursing through her veins. She was
between five and six years old. A mass of dark brown hair, unkempt and matted,
fell about her face and shoulders.


I wrapped a rug about her. She was asleep almost before I had finished.


A little later I roused her, and she nestled her damp little head against my
shoulder as I gave her some soup; but her eyelids were heavy, and it seemed
almost cruel to keep her awake, even for the food she so badly needed. The
father had shuffled about uneasily during my motherly attentions, and seemed
relieved when I was through.


While the boy brought a steaming hot curry and a goodly supply of whiskey and
soda, I turned the self-confessed father of the big hazel eyes into the bath-room.


With the grime and dirt off his face he was pale and haggard. There were big
blue marks under his shifting gray eyes and his hair hung ragged and singed
about his ears.


He had discarded his dirty linen for a blue-flannel bathing-suit that some former

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