Chapter 1

           OnDecember8th,1915,MeggieClearyhadherfourthbirthday.Afterthebreakfastdisheswereputawayhermothersilentlythrustabrownpaperparcelintoherarmsandorderedheroutside.SoMeggiesquatteddownbehindthegorsebushnexttothefrontgateandtuggedimpatiently.Herfingerswereclumsy,thewrappingheavy;itsmelledfaintlyoftheWahinegeneralstore,whichtoldherthatwhateverlayinsidetheparcelhadmiraculouslybeenbought,nothomemadeordonated.

           Somethingfineandmistilygoldbegantopokethroughacorner;sheattackedthepaperfaster,peelingitawayinlong,raggedstrips.

           "Agnes!Oh,Agnes!"shesaidlovingly,blinkingatthedolllyingthereinatatterednest.

           Amiracleindeed.OnlyonceinherlifehadMeggiebeenintoWahine;allthewaybackinMay,becauseshehadbeenaverygoodgirl.Soperchedinthebuggybesidehermother,onherbestbehavior,shehadbeentooexcitedtoseeorremembermuch.ExceptforAgnes,thebeautiful’dollsittingonthestorecounter,dressedinacrinolineofpinksatinwithcreamlacefrillsalloverit.RightthenandthereinhermindshehadchristeneditAgnes,theonlynamesheknewelegantenoughforsuchapeerlesscreature.YetovertheensuingmonthsheryearningafterAgnescontainednothingofhope;Meggiedidn’townadollandhadnoidealittlegirlsanddollsbelongedtogether.Sheplayedhappilywiththewhistlesandslingshotsandbatteredsoldiersherbrothersdiscarded,gotherhandsdirtyandherbootsmuddy.

           ItneveroccurredtoherthatAgneswastoplaywith.

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