"One, two, thwee, four, five, thix, theven, eight, nine, ten!" yelled little Lizzy Bennet as she tried very hard not to peek. "Ready or not, here I come!"
Like a cannon ball, she tore through the trees, looking for her new best friend, who was hiding somewhere. Suddenly, she tripped over a root and fell headlong into the grass. The wind temporarily knocked out of her, she remained still for a moment.
"Lizzy!" a gangly boy called as he raced towards her. He was a good deal taller than his little lady friend, and, crouching, he carefully picked her up and sat her on his knee.
Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she hiccuped between sobs.
"Willth," she lisped, putting her tongue into the gap where she would grow her new front teeth.
"Are you hurt, Lizzy?" he asked anxiously.
She shrugged. "A little," she mumbled.
Then she jumped off his knee and laughed.
"I did find you, Willth," she said triumphantly and he could not help returning her smile.
As he looked her over, he noticed her dirty cheeks streaked with tears, her hems muddy, stained, even rent, a broken shoe lace and torn stockings, no doubt a result of her fall. Her high-strung mother would be violently displeased, he knew and his heart broke a little for her.
"Come," he said as he took her hand. "Let us clean you up first."