Lida Marsh , who had come up to bring the manse a mess of herring , slipped in through the gate shivering . She belonged to the fishing village at the harbour mouth and her father had , for thirty years , made a practice of sending a mess from his first spring catch to the manse . He never darkened a church door ; he was a hard drinker and a reckless man , but as long as he sent those herring up to the manse every spring , as his father had done before him , he felt comfortably sure that his account with the Powers That Govern was squared for the year . He would not have expected a good mackerel catch if he had not so sent the first fruits of the season . Lida was a mite of ten and looked younger , because she was such a small , wizened little creature . To-night , as she sidled boldly enough up to the manse girls , she looked as if she had never been warm since she was born . Her face was purple and her pale-blue , bold little eyes were red and watery . She wore a tattered print dress and a ragged woollen comforter , tied across her thin shoulders and under her arms . She had walked the three miles from the harbour mouth barefooted , over a road where there was still snow and slush and mud . Her feet and legs were as purple as her face . But Lida did not mind this much . She was used to being cold , and she had been going barefooted for a month already , like all the other swarming young fry of the fishing village . There was no self-pity in her heart as she sat down on the tombstone and grinned cheerfully at Faith and Una . Faith and Una grinned cheerfully back . They knew Lida slightly , having met her once or twice the preceding summer when they had gone down the harbour with the Blythes . `` Hello ! '' said Lida , `` ai n't this a fierce kind of a night ? `` T'ain ' t fit for a dog to be out , is it ? '' `` Then why are you out ? '' asked Faith .
`` Pa made me bring you up some herring , '' returned XXXXX .
Blythes Lida T'ain To-night Una every harbour month night slush