She sat on a stool, gravely watched him until he woke up, and asked the time- then looked at her.
Don't stare so, Kezia. You look like a little brown owl.
One day, her grandmother told her that father's birthday was next week, and suggested that she should make him a pin-cushion for a gift out of a beautiful piece of yellow silk.
Laboriously, with a double cotton, the little girl stitched three sides but didn't have anything to fill it. On the bed-table she saw some sheets of paper. She tore them them and stuffed her case, and stitched the the fourth side.
That night there was hue and cry in the house. Father's great speech for the Port Authority has been lost. The rooms were searched and the servants were also questioned.
Finally mother came into Kezia's room.
Oh yes, I tore them up for my surprise.
Kezia, I suppose you didn't see some papers on a table in our room?
What! Come straight down to the dining-room this instant.
And she was dragged down to where father was pacing to and fro, hands behind his back.
N-n-no
Well? Did you do that?
Mother, go up to her room and fetch the damned thing- see that the child is put to bed this instant.