In town she felt
constrained. There she had to be dressed up and taken to walk by her
mammy. In the country she never thought of her lameness; but in town
she could not help it. It was hard not to be able to run about and
play games like the other children. Rough boys, too, would talk about
the braces she had to wear, and sometimes would even laugh at her. So
she was shy, and often thought herself very wretched. Her mother and
her mammy used to tell her that she was better off than most little
girls, but Mildred could not think so. At least, they did not have to
wear braces, and could run about where they pleased and play games and
slide down hills without any one scolding them for ruining their
dresses or not being a lady. Mildred often wished she were not a lady,
and, though efforts were made to satisfy her least whim, she was
dissatisfied and unhappy.

A large playroom was set apart for her in town; and it was fitted up
with everything that could be thought of. After the first few days it
ceased to give her pleasure. The trouble was that it was all "fixed,"
her playthings were all "made playthings." She had to play according
to rule; she could not do as she pleased. In the country she was free;
she could run about the yard or garden, and play with the young birds
and chickens and "live" things. One "live" thing was, in Mildred's
eyes, worth all the "made" ones in the world; and if it was sick or
crippled, she just loved it. A lame chicken that could not keep up
with the rest of the brood, or a bird that had broken its wing falling
out of the nest, was her pet and care. Her playroom in town was filled
with dolls and toys of every size and kind, and in every condition, for
a doll's condition is different from that of people; it depends not on
the house it lives in and the wealth it has, but on the state of its
body and features. Mildred's playhouse in the country was a corner of
a closet, under the roof. There she used to have war with her mammy,
for Mammy was very strict, and had severe ideas. So whenever a sick
chicken or lame duck was found crying and tucked up in some of the
doll's best dresses there was a battle. "I don't want dolls," Mildred
would say. "It don't hurt a doll to break it; they don't care; and it
don't help them to mend them; they can't grow. I want something I can
get well and feed." Indeed, this was what her heart hungered for.
What she wanted was company. She felt it more