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diff --git a/old/53675-h/53675-h.htm b/old/53675-h/53675-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index a0e94a5..0000000 --- a/old/53675-h/53675-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10860 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story of the Gravelys, by Marshall Saunders</title> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> -<style type="text/css"> - -a { - text-decoration: none; -} - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -h1,h2,h3,h4 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -hr { - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - clear: both; - width: 65%; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; -} - -li { - margin-top: .5em; - padding-left: 2em; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -p { - margin-top: 0.5em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; - text-indent: 1em; -} - -table { - margin: 1em auto 1em auto; - max-width: 40em; -} - -td { - padding-left: 2.25em; - padding-right: 0.25em; - vertical-align: top; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -th { - font-weight: normal; - font-size: smaller; -} - -ul { - list-style-type: none; -} - -.bbox { - margin: auto; - max-width: 22em; - border: thin solid black; -} - -.bbox-double { - margin: 0 auto 0 auto; - max-width: 30em; - border: double; - padding: 0.25em; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.caption { - text-align: center; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-size: 90%; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.center { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.further-reading { - position: relative; -} - -.further-reading .pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: -8%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; -} - -.further-reading .book { - font-size: 130%; -} - -.further-reading .price { - position: absolute; - right: 0%; -} - -.noindent { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.larger { - font-size: 150%; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: 4%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; -} - -.poetry-container { - text-align: center; - margin: 1em; -} - -.poetry { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .verse { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.right { - text-align: right; -} - -.smaller { - font-size: 80%; -} - -.smcap { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; -} - -.tdr { - text-align: right; -} - -.titlepage { - text-align: center; - margin-top: 3em; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -@media handheld { - -img { - max-width: 100%; - width: auto; - height: auto; -} - -.poetry { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - -.blockquote { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} -} - - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Story of the Gravelys, by Marshall -Saunders</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: The Story of the Gravelys</p> -<p> A Tale for Girls</p> -<p>Author: Marshall Saunders</p> -<p>Release Date: December 6, 2016 [eBook #53675]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by David Edwards<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto; max-width: 100%;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/storyofgravelyst00saunuoft"> - https://archive.org/details/storyofgravelyst00saunuoft</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<p class="center larger">THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="450" height="700" alt="Book cover image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<p class="center">Works of<br /> -Marshall Saunders</p> - -<table summary="List of books and prices"> - <tr> - <td>Beautiful Joe’s Paradise.</td> - <td class="tdr">Net $1.20</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdr">Postpaid $1.32</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Story of the Gravelys.</td> - <td class="tdr">Net $1.20</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdr">Postpaid $1.35</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>’Tilda Jane.</td> - <td class="tdr">$1.50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Rose à Charlitte.</td> - <td class="tdr">$1.50</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>For His Country.</td> - <td class="tdr">$ .50</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center">L. C. PAGE & COMPANY<br /> -New England Building, Boston, Mass.</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus1"> -<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="460" height="515" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“BENT THEIR HEADS OVER THE PAPER”</p> -<p class="smaller right">(<i>See <a href="#Page_40">page 40</a></i>)</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox-double"> - -<p class="center larger">THE STORY OF<br /> -THE GRAVELYS</p> - -<p class="center"><i>A Tale for Girls</i></p> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox-double"> - -<p class="center">By<br /> -Marshall Saunders</p> - -<p class="center">Author of<br /> -“Beautiful Joe,” “Beautiful Joe’s Paradise,”<br /> -“’Tilda Jane,” etc.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox-double"> - -<p class="center smaller">“A child’s needless tear is a blood-blot upon this earth.”</p> - -<p class="right smaller">—<span class="smcap">Cardinal Manning</span></p> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox-double"> - -<p class="center"><i>Illustrated</i></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> -<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100" height="100" alt="Publisher’s mark. Motto: SPE LABOR LEVIS" /> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox-double"> - -<p class="center">Boston<br /> -L. C. Page & Company<br /> -1904</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller"><i>Copyright, 1902, 1903</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By Perry Mason Company</span></p> - -<p class="center smaller"><i>Copyright, 1903</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -(INCORPORATED)</p> - -<p class="center smaller"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Published September, 1903</p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Colonial Press<br /> -Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> -Boston, Mass., U. S. A.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">TO<br /> -MY DEAR SISTER<br /> -<span class="larger">Grace,</span><br /> -MY FAITHFUL HELPER IN LITERARY WORK,<br /> -THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED<br /> -BY HER APPRECIATIVE SISTER,<br /> -<span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<h2>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</h2> - -<p>Certain chapters of this story first appeared in -The <cite>Youth’s Companion</cite>. The author wishes to -acknowledge the courtesy of the editors in permitting -her to republish them in the present volume.</p> - -<p>Messrs. L. C. Page and Company wish also to -acknowledge the courtesy of the editors in granting -them permission to use the original illustrations.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <th>CHAPTER</th> - <th></th> - <th>PAGE</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">I.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Quarrel</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">II.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Grandma’s Watchword</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">23</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">III.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">A Sudden Countermarch</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">34</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">IV.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">A Lifted Burden</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">43</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">V.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Training of a Boy</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">54</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">VI.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Bonny’s Ordeal</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">68</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">VII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Berty Imparts Information</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">76</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Heart of the Mayor</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">88</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">IX.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Mayor’s Dilemma</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">99</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">X.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">A Groundless Suspicion</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">113</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XI.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">A Proposed Supper-Party</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">130</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">A Disturbed Hostess</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">139</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">An Anxious Mind</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">150</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">The Opening of the Park</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">162</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XV.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Up the River</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">175</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Berty’s Tramp</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">188</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Tom’s Intervention</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">195</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Tramp Philosophy</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">At the Board of Water-Works</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">217</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XX.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Selina’s Wedding</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">229</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XXI.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">To Strike or Not to Strike</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">244</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XXII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Discouraged</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">257</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Grandma’s Request</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">262</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Down the River</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">270</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdr">XXV.</td> - <td><span class="smcap">Last Words</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">277</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table summary="List of illustrations"> - <tr> - <th></th> - <th>PAGE</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“Bent their heads over the paper”</span> (<i>see <a href="#Page_40">page 40</a></i>)</td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus1"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“Leaning over the stair railing”</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus2">33</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“‘Why don’t some of you good people try to reform me?’”</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus3">54</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“‘You have too much heart’”</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus4">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“‘You’re dying to tease me’”</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus5">177</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">“‘A River Street delegation,’ said Tom”</span></td> - <td class="tdr"><a href="#illus6">235</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - -<h1>THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS</h1> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE QUARREL</span></h2> - -<p>“I won’t live on my brother-in-law,” said the -slight, dark girl.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you will,” said the fair-haired beauty, her -sister, who was standing over her in a somewhat -theatrical attitude.</p> - -<p>“I will not,” said Berty again. “You think -because you have just been married you are going -to run the family. I tell you, I will not do it. -I will not live with you.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want to run the family, but I am a -year and a half older than you, and I know what -is for your good better than you do.”</p> - -<p>“You do not—you butterfly!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Alberta Mary Francesca Gravely—you ought -to be ashamed of yourself,” said the beauty, in -concentrated wrath.</p> - -<p>“I’m not ashamed of myself,” replied her sister, -scornfully. “I’m ashamed of you. You’re just -as extravagant as you can be. You spend every -cent of your husband’s income, and now you want -to saddle him with a big boy, a girl, and an—”</p> - -<p>“An old lady,” said Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Grandma isn’t old. She’s only sixty-five.”</p> - -<p>“Sixty-five is old.”</p> - -<p>“It is not.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now, can you call her young?” said -Margaretta. “Can you say she is a girl?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Berty, obstinately, “I can call -her a girl, or a duck, or anything I like, and I -can call you a goose.”</p> - -<p>“A goose!” repeated Mrs. Stanisfield, chokingly; -“oh, this is too much. I wish my husband were -here.”</p> - -<p>“I wish he were,” said Berty, wickedly, “so -he could be sorry he mar—”</p> - -<p>“Children,” said a sudden voice, “what are you -quarrelling about?”</p> - -<p>Both girls turned their flushed faces toward the -doorway. A little shrewd old lady stood there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -This was Grandma, one of their bones of contention, -and this particular bone in deep amusement -wanted to laugh, but knew better than to do so.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you sit down, Margaretta?” she said, -calmly coming into the room and taking a chair -near Berty, who was lounging provokingly on -the foot of the bed.</p> - -<p>It was Grandma’s bed, and they were in Grandma’s -room. She had brought them up—her two dear -orphan granddaughters, together with their brother -Boniface.</p> - -<p>“What are you quarrelling about?” repeated the -little old lady, taking a silk stocking from her -pocket, and beginning to knit in a leisurely way.</p> - -<p>“We’re quarrelling about keeping the family together,” -said Margaretta, vehemently, “and I find -that family honour is nothing but a rag in Berty’s -estimation.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’d rather have it a nice clean rag put -out of sight,” said Berty, sharply, “than a great, -big, red flag shaken in everybody’s face.”</p> - -<p>“Sit down, Margaretta,” said Grandma, soothingly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I am too angry to sit down,” said Margaretta, -shaking herself slightly. “I got your note<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -saying you had lost your money. I came to sympathize -and was met with insults. It’s dreadful!”</p> - -<p>“Sit down, dear,” said Grandma, gently, pushing -a rocking-chair toward her.</p> - -<p>Margaretta took the chair, and, wiping her white -forehead with a morsel of lace and muslin, glared -angrily at her sister.</p> - -<p>“Roger says,” she went on, excitedly, “that -you are all—”</p> - -<p>“All!” groaned Berty.</p> - -<p>“All,” repeated Margaretta, furiously, “or one -or two, whichever you like, to come and live with -us. He insists.”</p> - -<p>“No, <em>you</em> insist,” interrupted Berty. “He has -too much sense.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta gave a low cry. “Isn’t this ingratitude -abominable—I hear of your misfortune, I -come flying to your relief—”</p> - -<p>“Dear child,” said Grandma, “I knew you’d -come.”</p> - -<p>“But what do you make of Berty, Grandma? -Do say something cutting. You could if you tried. -The trouble is, you don’t try.”</p> - -<p>Grandma tried not to laugh. She, too, had a tiny -handkerchief that she pressed against her face, -but the merriment would break through.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You laugh,” said Margaretta, in awe, “and -you have just lost every cent you own!”</p> - -<p>Grandma recovered herself. “Thank fortune, I -never chained my affections to a house and furniture -and a bank-account.”</p> - -<p>“Roger says you are the bravest woman he ever -saw,” murmured Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Did he say that?” replied Grandma, with -twinkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, dear Grandma,” said Margaretta, -fondly, “and he told me to offer you all a home -with us.”</p> - -<p>The little old lady smiled again, and this time -there was a dimple in her cheek. “What a dear -grandson-in-law! What a good man!”</p> - -<p>“He is just perfection,” said Margaretta, enthusiastically, -“but, Grandma, darling, tell me your -plans! I am just dying to know, and Berty has -been so provoking.”</p> - -<p>“Berty is the mainstay of the family now,” said -Grandma, good-naturedly; “don’t abuse her.”</p> - -<p>“The mainstay!” repeated Margaretta, with a -bewildered air; “oh, yes, I see. You mean that -the little annuity left her by our great-aunt, your -sister, is all that you have to depend on.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Just those few hundred dollars,” said Grandma, -tranquilly, “and a little more.”</p> - -<p>“That is why she is so toploftical,” said Margaretta. -“However, it is well that she was named -for great-aunt Alberta—but, Grandma, dear, don’t -knit.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“It is so prosaic, after all you have gone through,” -said Margaretta. “When I think of your trials, -it makes me sick.”</p> - -<p>“My trials are nothing to what Job had,” remarked -her grandmother. “I read of his tribulations -and they make mine seem very insignificant.”</p> - -<p>“Poor Grandma, you have had about as many -as Job.”</p> - -<p>“What have I had?” asked the old lady, softly.</p> - -<p>Margaretta made a gesture of despair. “Your -mother died at your birth.”</p> - -<p>“The Lord took her,” said the old lady, gently, -“and when I needed a mother he sent me a good -stepmother.”</p> - -<p>“Your father perished in a burning hotel,” said -the girl, in a low voice.</p> - -<p>“And went to heaven in a chariot of fire,” replied -Grandma, firmly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You married and were happy with your husband.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, bless the Lord!”</p> - -<p>“But your daughter, our mother, kissed you good-bye -one day to go on a pleasure excursion with her -husband, and never came back—oh, it breaks my -heart to think of that day—my father and mother -lost, both at once!” and, dropping miserably on -her knees, Margaretta hid her face in her grandmother’s -lap.</p> - -<p>The old lady’s lip trembled, but she said, steadily, -“The Lord giveth—He also taketh away.”</p> - -<p>“And now,” said Margaretta, falteringly, “you -are not old, but you have come to an age when you -are beginning to think about getting old, and you -have lost everything—everything.”</p> - -<p>“All save the greatest thing in the world,” said -Grandma, patting the bowed head.</p> - -<p>“You always had that,” exclaimed Margaretta, -lifting her tear-stained face. “Everybody has loved -you since you were born—how could any one help -it?”</p> - -<p>“If everybody loves me, why is it?” inquired -Grandma, guilelessly, as she again took up her knitting.</p> - -<p>Margaretta wrinkled her fair brows. “I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -know—I guess it is because you don’t talk much, -and you seem to like every one, and you don’t -contradict. You’re exceedingly canny, Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“Canny, child?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, canny. I don’t know what the Scottish -people mean by it, but I mean clever, and shrewd, -and smart, and quiet, and you keep out of scrapes. -Now, when I’m with that provoking creature there,” -and she looked disdainfully at Berty, “I feel as -if I were a fifty-cornered sort of person. <em>You</em> -make me feel as if I were round, and smooth, and -easy to get on with.”</p> - -<p>Grandma picked up a dropped stitch and said -nothing.</p> - -<p>“If you’d talk more, I’d like it better,” said -Margaretta, dolefully, “but I dare say I should -not get on so well with you.”</p> - -<p>“Women do talk too much,” said Grandma, -shortly; “we thresh everything out with our -tongues.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma, dear, what are you going to do?” -asked Margaretta, coaxingly. “Do tell me.”</p> - -<p>“Keep the family together,” said Grandma, serenely.</p> - -<p>“The old cry,” exclaimed Margaretta. “I’ve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -heard that ever since I was born. What makes -you say it so much?”</p> - -<p>“Shall I tell you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes—it is a regular watchword with you.”</p> - -<p>“When my father found himself trapped in that -burning building,” said Grandma, knitting a little -more rapidly than before, “he looked down from -his window into the street and saw a man that -he knew. ‘Jefferson,’ he called out, ‘will you -take a message to my wife?’</p> - -<p>“‘I’ll take fifty, sir,’ answered the man, in an -agony.</p> - -<p>“My father was quite calm. ‘Then, Jefferson,’ -he went on, ‘tell my wife that I said “God bless -her,” with my last breath, and that I want her -to keep the family together. Mind, Jefferson, she -is to keep the family together.’</p> - -<p>“‘I’ll tell her,’ said the man, and, groaning and -dazed with the heat, he turned away. Now, that -wife was my stepmother, but she did as her husband -bade her. She kept the family together, in sickness -and in health, in adversity and in prosperity.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta was crying nervously.</p> - -<p>“If you will compose yourself, I will go on,” -said Grandma.</p> - -<p>Margaretta dried her tears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Those four dying, living words were branded -on my memory, and your mother was taught to -lisp them with her earliest breath, though she was -an only child. When she left me that sunny spring -day to go on her long, last journey, she may have -had a presentiment—I do not know—but I do -know that as she pressed her blooming face to mine, -she glanced at her three children playing on the -grass, and whispered, lovingly, ‘Keep the family -together.’”</p> - -<p>“And you did it,” cried Margaretta, flinging up -her head, “you did it nobly. You have been father, -mother, grandfather and grandmother to us. You -are a darling.” And seizing the little, nimble hands -busy with the stocking, she kissed them fervently.</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled at her, picked up her work, and -went on, briskly: “Keep the family together, and -you keep the clan together. Keep the clan together, -and you keep the nation together. Foster national -love and national pride, and you increase the brotherhood -of man.”</p> - -<p>“Then the family is the rock on which the nation -is built,” said Margaretta, her beautiful face a flood -of colour.</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>“Then I am a helping stone in the building of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -a nation,” continued Margaretta. “I, only a young -woman in a small city of this great Union?”</p> - -<p>“You are a wife,” said Grandma, composedly, -“a young and inexperienced one, but still the head -of a family.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta shivered. “What a responsibility—what -kind of a wife am I?”</p> - -<p>Grandma maintained a discreet silence.</p> - -<p>“Berty says I am extravagant,” exclaimed Margaretta, -with a gesture toward the bed.</p> - -<p>Again her grandmother said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Am I, Grandma, darling, am I?” asked the -young woman, in a wheedling voice.</p> - -<p>Grandma’s lips trembled, and her dimple displayed -itself again.</p> - -<p>“I am,” cried Margaretta, springing up and -clasping her hands despairingly. “I spend all -Roger gives me. We have no fortune back of us, -only his excellent income from the iron works. If -that were to fail, we should be ruined. I am a -careless, poorly-turned stone in the foundation of -this mighty nation. I must shape and strengthen -myself, and, Grandma, dear, let me begin by helping -you and Berty and Bonny. You will have to -give up this house—oh, my darling Grandma, -how can you—this handsome house that grandfather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -built for you? What will you do without -your velvet carpets, and lace curtains, and palms -and roses? Oh, you will come to me! I shall save -enough to keep you, and I shall lose my reason -if you don’t.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.<br /> -<span class="smaller">GRANDMA’S WATCHWORD</span></h2> - -<p>“See here,” said Grandma, feeling in her pocket. -“Look at these telegrams.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta hastily ran her eye over them. “I -don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“Let me explain,” said Grandma, softly. -“Brother John sends regrets for loss—will guarantee -so many hundreds a year. Brother Henry -sympathizes deeply to the extent of a tenth of his -income. Sister Mary and Sister Lucy will come -to see me as soon as possible. Substantial financial -aid to be reckoned on.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Grandma! Grandma!” said the girl, still -only half-enlightened. “What do they mean?”</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled complacently. “You notice that -not one of them offers me a home, though, Heaven -knows, their homes are as wide as their hearts. -They are not rich, not one is exceedingly rich, yet -they all offer me a good part of their respective<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -incomes. That is the outcome of ‘Keep the family -together.’”</p> - -<p>“Oh! oh! oh!” exclaimed Margaretta. “They -know how you love us. They want you to keep -up a home for us. They will support you.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” said Grandma.</p> - -<p>“And will you take all that money?”</p> - -<p>“No, child, not all; some of it, though. I have -helped them. I will do it again, if I can.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t that lovely!” cried Margaretta. “It is -almost worth while being unfortunate to call out -such goodness as that. Now, Grandma, dear, let -us talk seriously. You will have to give up this -house.”</p> - -<p>“It is given up. My lawyer was here this morning.”</p> - -<p>“Roger is coming this evening to see you—will -you sell all the furniture?”</p> - -<p>“I shall have to.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear! Well, you won’t need it with us.”</p> - -<p>“We cannot go to you, Margaretta,” said -Grandma, quietly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, why not?”</p> - -<p>“It would be too great a burden on Roger.”</p> - -<p>“Only three persons, Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“Roger is a young man. He has lately started<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -housekeeping and family life. Let him work out -his plans along his own lines. It will be better -not to join households unless necessary.”</p> - -<p>“He just loves you, Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“And I reciprocate, but I think it better not to -amalgamate my quicksilver Berty with another -stronger metal just now.”</p> - -<p>“Where is she?” asked Margaretta, turning her -head.</p> - -<p>“She slipped out some time ago.”</p> - -<p>“Roger gets on well with her, Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“I know he does. By stronger metal, I meant -you. Being the elder, you have rather absorbed -Berty. She will develop more quickly alone.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want to board?”</p> - -<p>“There are two kinds of life in America,” said -Grandma, “boarding-house life and home-life. -Boarding-house life vulgarizes, home life ennobles. -As long as God gives me breath, I’ll keep house, -if I have only three rooms to do it in.”</p> - -<p>“But, Grandma, dear, you will have so little -to keep house on. Wouldn’t it be better to go to -some first-class boarding-house with just a few -nice people?”</p> - -<p>“Who might be my dearest foes,” said Grandma,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -tranquilly. “I’ve rubbed shoulders with such people -in hotels before now.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma, you haven’t any enemies.”</p> - -<p>“Anybody that is worth anything has enemies.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Margaretta, with a sigh, “what -are you going to do? You can’t afford to keep -house in such style as this. You won’t want to -go into a poor neighbourhood.”</p> - -<p>“Give me a house and I’ll make the neighbourhood,” -said Grandma, decidedly.</p> - -<p>“You have already decided on one?” said her -granddaughter, suspiciously.</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled. “Not altogether decided.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t like your tone,” exclaimed Margaretta. -“You have something dreadful to tell me.”</p> - -<p>“Berty was out this morning and found a large, -old-fashioned house with big open fireplaces. From -it we would have a fine view of the river.”</p> - -<p>“Tell me where it is,” said Margaretta, brokenly.</p> - -<p>“It is where the first people of the town used to -live when I was a girl.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t down by the fish-market—oh, don’t -tell me that!”</p> - -<p>“Just a block away from it, dear.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Roger Stanisfield gave a subdued shriek. -“This is Berty’s doing.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her grandmother laid down her knitting. “Margaretta, -imagine Berty in a fashionable boarding-house—in -two rooms, for we could not afford to -take more. Imagine the boarding-house keeper -when Berty would come in trailing a lame dog -or sick cat? The Lord has given me grace to put -up with these things, and even to sympathize and -admire, but I have had a large house and several -servants.”</p> - -<p>“But some boarding-house people are agreeable,” -moaned Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Agreeable!—they are martyrs, but I am not -going to help martyrize them.”</p> - -<p>“I quarrel with Berty,” murmured Margaretta, -“but I always make up with her. She is my own -dear sister.”</p> - -<p>“Keep the family together,” said Grandma, -shrewdly, “and in order to keep it together let it -sometimes drift apart.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma, you speak in riddles.”</p> - -<p>“Margaretta, you are too direct. I want Berty -to stand alone for awhile. She has as much character -as you.”</p> - -<p>“She has more,” sighed Margaretta. “She won’t -mind a word I say—she looks just like you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -Grandma, dear. You like her better than you do -me.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I do,” said the old lady, calmly. “Perhaps -she needs it.”</p> - -<p>“And you are going to let her drag you down -to that awful neighbourhood.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t awful—a dose of River Street will be -a fitting antidote to a somewhat enervating existence -here on Grand Avenue.”</p> - -<p>“You want to make a philanthropist or a city -missionary of my poor sister.”</p> - -<p>“She might do worse,” said Grandma, coolly.</p> - -<p>“But she won’t be one,” said Margaretta, desperately. -“She is too self-centred. She is taken -with the large house and the good view. She will -be disgusted with the dirty people.”</p> - -<p>“We shall see,” said Grandma, calmly.</p> - -<p>“You will only take the house for a short time, -of course.”</p> - -<p>“I shall probably stay there until eternity claims -me.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma!”</p> - -<p>“One little old woman in this big republic will -not encourage home faithlessness,” said Grandma, -firmly.</p> - -<p>“Dearest of grandmothers, what do you mean?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How the old homes must suffer,” said -Grandma, musingly. “Families are being reared -within their walls, then suddenly the mother takes -a caprice—we must move.”</p> - -<p>“But all houses are not equally convenient.”</p> - -<p>“Make them so,” said the little lady, emphatically. -“Have some affection for your roof-tree, your -hearthstone. Have one home, not a dozen. Let -your children pin their memories to one place.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta fell into silence, and sat for a long -time watching in fascination the quick, active fingers -manipulating the silk stocking.</p> - -<p>“You are a wonderful woman,” she said, at -last.</p> - -<p>“Do you really think so?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, yes,” said Margaretta, enthusiastically. -“You let people find out things for themselves. -Now I don’t believe in your heart of hearts you -want to go to River Street.”</p> - -<p>For the first time a shade of sadness came over -the face of the older woman. “Set not your affections -on earthly things,” she said, “and yet I love -my home—— However, it is all right, Margaretta. -If the Lord sends me to River Street, I can go. -If He tells me to love River Street, I shall make -a point of doing so. If I feel that River Street<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -discipline is not necessary for me at my time of life, -I shall console myself with the thought that it is -necessary for Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Once,” said Margaretta, keenly, “there was a -young girl who teased her grandmother to take her -to Paris in the dead of winter. The grandmother -didn’t want to go, but she went, and when the girl -found herself shut up below on a plunging steamer -that was trying to weather a cyclonic gale, she said, -‘Grandma, I’ll never overpersuade you again.’”</p> - -<p>“And did she keep her promise?” asked Grandma, -meaningly.</p> - -<p>Margaretta sprang to her feet, laughing nervously. -“Dearest,” she said, “go to River Street, -take your house. I’ll help you to the best of my -ability. I see in advance what you are doing it for. -Not only Berty, but the whole family will be benefited. -You think we have been too prosperous, too -self-satisfied—now, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled mischievously. “Well, child, -since you ask me, I must say that since your marriage -I don’t see in you much passion for the good -of others. Roger spoils you,” she added, apologetically.</p> - -<p>“I will be better,” said the beautiful girl, “and, -Grandma, why haven’t you talked more to me—preached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -more. I don’t remember any sermons, -except ‘Keep the family together.’”</p> - -<p>“It was all there, only the time hadn’t come -for you to see it. You know how it is in this -new invention of wireless telegraphy—a receiver -must be tuned to the same pitch as that of the transmitter, -or a message cannot pass between.”</p> - -<p>A brilliant expression burst like a flood of sunlight -over the girl’s face. “I’m tuned,” she said, -gaily. “I’m getting older and have more sense. -I can take the message, and even pass it on. Good-bye, -best of Grandmas. I’m going to make my peace -with Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Keep the family together,” said Grandma, demurely.</p> - -<p>“Berty, Berty, where are you?” cried Margaretta, -whisking her draperies out into the hall and down-stairs. -“I am such a sinner. I was abominably -sharp with you.”</p> - -<p>“Hush,” said Berty, suddenly.</p> - -<p>She had come into the hall below and was standing -holding something in her hand.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” asked Margaretta. “Oh!” and -she gave a little scream, “a mouse!”</p> - -<p>“He is dead,” said Berty, quickly, “nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -matters to him now. Poor little thing, how he -suffered. He was caught in a cruel trap.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta gazed scrutinizingly at her. “You -have a good heart, Berty. I’m sorry I quarrelled -with you.”</p> - -<p>“I forgot all about it,” said Berty, simply, “but -I don’t like to quarrel with you, Margaretta. It -usually gives me a bad feeling inside me.”</p> - -<p>“You want to go to River Street?” said Margaretta, -abruptly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, we shall be so near the river. I am -going to keep my boat and canoe. The launch will -have to go.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta suppressed a smile. “How about -the neighbourhood?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t like it, but we shall keep to ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“And keep the family together,” said Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Berty, soberly. “Trust Grandma -to do that. I wish you and Roger could live with -us.”</p> - -<p>“Bless your heart,” said Margaretta, affectionately -throwing an arm around her.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus2"> -<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="460" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“LEANING OVER THE STAIR RAILING”</p> -</div> - -<p>“But you’ll come to see us often?” said Berty, -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Every day; and, Berty, I prophesy peace and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -prosperity to you and Grandma—and now good-bye, -I’m going home to save.”</p> - -<p>“To save?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, to save money—to keep my family together,” -and holding her head well in the air, Margaretta -tripped through the long, cool hall out into -the sunlight.</p> - -<p>“Thank God they have made up their quarrel,” -said Grandma, who was leaning over the stair railing. -“Nothing conquers a united family! And -now will Margaretta have the strength of mind to -keep to her new resolution?”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A SUDDEN COUNTERMARCH</span></h2> - -<p>Roger Stanisfield was plodding wearily along -the avenue. He was not aware what an exquisite -summer evening it was. He carried his own -troubled atmosphere with him.</p> - -<p>Slowly going up the broad flight of steps leading -to his house, he drew out his latch-key. As -he unlocked the door, a bevy of girls came trooping -through the hall—some of his wife’s friends. His -face cleared as he took off his hat and stood aside -for them to pass.</p> - -<p>For a minute the air was gay with merry parting, -then the girls were gone, and he went slowly up -to his room.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Stanisfield is in the dining-room, sir,” -said a servant, addressing him a few minutes later, -as he stood in the hall with an air of great abstraction. -“Dinner has just been served.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Roger,” said his wife, as he entered the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -room where she sat at the table, “I didn’t know -you’d come! You told me not to wait for you. I -shall be glad when you take up your old habit of -coming home in the middle of the afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“I am very busy now,” he muttered, as he took -his place.</p> - -<p>“Does your head ache?” inquired Margaretta, -when several courses had been passed through in -silence on his part.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is splitting.”</p> - -<p>Young Mrs. Stanisfield bent her fair head over -her plate, and discreetly made only an occasional -remark until the pudding was removed, and the -table-maid had withdrawn from the room. Then -she surreptitiously examined her husband’s face.</p> - -<p>He was thoughtfully surveying the fruit on the -table.</p> - -<p>“Margaretta,” he said, boyishly, “I don’t care -much for puddings and pastry.”</p> - -<p>“Neither do I,” she said, demurely.</p> - -<p>“I was wondering,” he said, hesitatingly, -“whether we couldn’t do without puddings for -awhile and just have nuts and raisins, or fruit—What -are you laughing at?”</p> - -<p>“At your new rôle of housekeeper. You usually -don’t seem to know what is on the table.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have a good appetite.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but you don’t criticize. You just eat what -is set before you. I am sure it has escaped -your masculine observation that for several weeks -past we have had only one dish in the pastry course.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what of it?”</p> - -<p>“Why, we always used to have two or three—pudding, -pie, and jelly or creams. Now we never -have pudding and pie at the same time.”</p> - -<p>“What is that for?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, for something,” she said, quietly. “Now -tell me what has gone wrong with you.”</p> - -<p>“Nothing has gone wrong with me,” he said, -irritably.</p> - -<p>“With your business then.”</p> - -<p>He did not reply, and, rising, she said, “This -sitting at table is tiresome when one eats nothing. -Let us go to the drawing-room and have coffee.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want coffee,” he said, sauntering after -her.</p> - -<p>“Neither do I,” she replied. “Shall we go out -in the garden? It was delightfully cool there before -dinner.”</p> - -<p>“What a crowd of women you had here,” he -said, a little peevishly, as he followed her.</p> - -<p>“Hadn’t I?” and she smiled. “They had all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -been at a garden-party at the Everests, and as I -wasn’t there they came to find out the reason.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say you missed a social -function?” said her husband, sarcastically.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear boy, I did, and I have before, and I -am going to again.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Stanisfield laughed shortly. “You sound like -your sister Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I should love to be like her. She is a -dear little sister.”</p> - -<p>“But not as dear as her sister.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Margaretta, prettily, turning -and curtseying to him, as he followed her along the -garden paths. “Now, here we are among the roses. -Just drag out those two chairs from the arbour, or -will you get into the hammock?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take the hammock,” he said, wearily. “I -feel as if I were falling to pieces.”</p> - -<p>“Let me arrange some cushions under your head -so—this cool breeze will soon drive the business -fog from your brain.”</p> - -<p>“No, it won’t—the fog is too heavy.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a fog is it?” asked Margaretta, -cautiously.</p> - -<p>Her husband sat up in the hammock, and stared -at her with feverish eyes. “Margaretta, I think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -we had better give up this house and take a smaller -one.”</p> - -<p>“I knew it,” said Margaretta, triumphantly. “I -knew you were worried about your affairs!”</p> - -<p>“Then you won’t feel so surprised,” he said, -“when I tell you that we can’t stand this pace. -We’ve had some heavy losses down at the iron works -lately—mind you don’t say anything about it.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed I won’t,” she replied, proudly.</p> - -<p>“Father and I finished going over the books to-day -with Mackintosh. We’ve got to put on the -brakes. I—I hate to tell you,” and he averted -his face. “You are so young.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta did not reply to him, and, eager to -see her face, he presently turned his own.</p> - -<p>The sun had set, but she was radiant in a kind -of afterglow.</p> - -<p>“Margaretta, you don’t understand,” he faltered. -“It will be a tremendous struggle for you to give -up luxuries to which you have been accustomed, -but we’ve either got to come down to bare poles -here, or move to a smaller house.”</p> - -<p>“What a misfortune!” she said.</p> - -<p>His face fell.</p> - -<p>“For you to have a headache about this matter,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -she went on, gleefully. “I don’t call it a small one, -for it isn’t, but if you knew everything!”</p> - -<p>“I know enough to make me feel like a cheat,” -he blurted, wriggling about in the hammock. -“I took you from a good home. I never wanted -you to feel an anxiety, and now the first thing I’ve -got to put you down to rigid economy. You see, -father and I have to spend a certain amount on the -business, or we’d be out of it in the war of competition, -and we’ve both decided that expenses must -be curtailed in our homes rather than in the iron -works.”</p> - -<p>“That shows you are good business men,” said -Margaretta, promptly. “You are as good business -men as husbands.”</p> - -<p>“Margaretta,” said her husband, “you puzzle -me. I expected a scene, and upon my word you -look happy over it—but you don’t realize it, poor -child!”</p> - -<p>Margaretta smiled silently at him for a few -seconds, then she said, roguishly, “I am going to -give you a little surprise. You didn’t see me snatch -this sheet of paper from my new cabinet when we -left the house?”</p> - -<p>“No, I did not.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what a nice little paper! What a precious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -little paper!” said Margaretta, gaily, clasping it. -“Can you see what is written on it, Roger? No, -you can’t very well in this light.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I can,” said the young man, with a weary, -amused smile. “Give it to me.”</p> - -<p>She drew her seat closer to the hammock, and -both bent their heads over the paper.</p> - -<p>“Animus saved by Mrs. Roger Stanisfield during -the month of July,” read Roger, stumblingly—“to -be poured on my head, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“No, no, not animus—amounts.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I see, you want to comfort me by showing -what an economist you are. I dare say you have -saved five whole dollars through the month. What -is the first item? Saved on new dress, one hundred -dollars. Good gracious—how much did the dress -cost?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t get it,” she replied, with immense satisfaction. -“I needed one, or thought I did, and -Madame Bouvard, that French dressmaker from -New York, who came here last year, said she would -make me one for one hundred dollars. Now some -time ago, just after dear Grandma lost her money, -she gave me a great shock.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma did?” asked her husband, in surprise.</p> - -<p>“No, she didn’t, she made me give it to myself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -That is Grandma’s way, you know. She doesn’t -preach. Well, after this electric shock I was horrified -to find out that I was a frivolous, extravagant -person. I began to think hard, then I got this little -piece of paper—and, oh, Roger, won’t you get me -a regular business book, and make red lines down -the sides, and show me how to keep proper accounts?”</p> - -<p>“I will, but what about the dress?”</p> - -<p>“I had ordered it, but I went to Madame Bouvard. -I said, frankly, ‘I can’t pay as much as a hundred -dollars for a gown.’</p> - -<p>“‘You shall have it for eighty,’ she said.</p> - -<p>“I said, ‘Please let me off altogether. I want -to save a little on my outfit this summer, but I -promise to come to you the first time I want a -gown.’</p> - -<p>“As soon as I said it I bit my lip. ‘Oh, Madame -Bouvard,’ I said, ‘you are the most satisfactory -dressmaker I have ever had, but I don’t know -whether I can afford to come to you again.’</p> - -<p>“She is just a plain little woman, but when she -saw how badly I felt, her face lighted up like an -angel’s. ‘Madame,’ she said, ‘do not take your -custom from me. You have been the best lady I -have worked for in Riverport. Why, my girls say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -when your fair head passes the glass door of the -workroom that it casts a ray of sunshine in upon -them’—just think of that, Roger,—a ray of sunshine. -I was quite pleased.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A LIFTED BURDEN</span></h2> - -<p>He laid a hand on the fair head, then hastily bent -over the paper.</p> - -<p>“I was pleased, Roger, because I didn’t know -that dressmakers or their sewing-girls ever cared -for the people they work for; and what do you -think she went on to say?—‘Madame, don’t go -to a second-class establishment. I know you like -first-class things. Come to me when you want a -gown, and it shall be given to you at cost price, -with just a trifle to satisfy you for my work’—wasn’t -that sweet in her, Roger? I just caught -her hand and squeezed it, and then she laid a finger -on her lips—‘Not a word of this to any one, -madame.’ I sent her a basket of flowers the next -day.”</p> - -<p>“You are a good child,” said her husband, huskily.</p> - -<p>“Now go on to the next item,” said Margaretta, -jubilantly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>“‘Butter, twenty dollars’—what in the name -of common sense does that mean?”</p> - -<p>“Queer, isn’t it?” laughed Margaretta. “I’ll go -back to the beginning and explain. You know, -Roger, I am not such a terribly strong person, and -I do love to lie in bed in the morning. It is so -delicious when you know you ought to get up, to -roll yourself in the soft clothes and have another -nap! You remember that I had got into a great -way of having my breakfast in bed. Well, madam -in bed meant carelessness in the kitchen. We have -honest servants, Roger, but they are heedless. After -my shock from Grandma about economy, I said, ‘I -will reform. I will watch the cents, and the cents -will watch the dollars.’</p> - -<p>“Now, to catch the first stray cent, it was necessary -to get up early. I just hated to do it, but I -made myself. I sprang out of bed in the morning, -had my cold plunge, and was down before you, and -it was far more interesting to have company for -breakfast than to have no one, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, rather.”</p> - -<p>“You good boy. You never complained. Well, -cook was immensely surprised to have a call from -me before breakfast. One morning I found her -making pastry, and putting the most delicious-looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -yellow butter in it. ‘Why, that’s our table -butter,’ I said, ‘isn’t it, that comes from Cloverdale, -and costs a ridiculous amount?’</p> - -<p>“She said it was.</p> - -<p>“‘Why don’t you use cooking-butter, Jane?’ -I asked; ‘it’s just as good, isn’t it?’</p> - -<p>“‘Well, ma’am, there’s nothing impure about it,’ -she said, ‘but I know you like everything of the -best, so I put this in.’</p> - -<p>“‘Jane,’ I said, ‘never do it again. I’m going -to economize, and I want you to help me. If you -can’t, I must send you away and get some one else.’</p> - -<p>“She laughed—you know what a fat, good-natured -creature she is—and seemed to think it -a kind of joke that I should want to economize.</p> - -<p>“‘Jane,’ I said, ‘I’m in earnest.’</p> - -<p>“Then she sobered down. ‘Truth, and I’ll help -you, ma’am, if you really want me to. There’s lots -of ways I can save for you, but I thought you didn’t -care. You always seem so open-handed.’</p> - -<p>“‘Well, Jane,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to be mean, -and I don’t want adulterated food, but my husband -and I are young, and we want to save something -for old age. Now you’ll help us, won’t you?’</p> - -<p>“‘Honour bright, I will, ma’am,’ she said, and -I believed her. I can’t stay in the kitchen and watch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -her, but she watches herself, and just read that -list of groceries and see what else she has saved.”</p> - -<p>“How have you found out the exact list of your -economies?” asked Roger, curiously.</p> - -<p>“By comparing my bills of this month with those -of the month before. For instance, sugar was so -many dollars in June; in July it is so many dollars -less. Of course, we must take into account that -we have been entertaining less. Have you noticed -it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but I thought it only a passing whim.”</p> - -<p>“Some whims don’t pass, they stay,” said Margaretta, -shaking her head. “Go on, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“One hundred and fifty dollars saved in not -entertaining Miss Gregory—pray who is Miss -Gregory?”</p> - -<p>“That society belle from Newport who has been -staying with the Darley-Jameses.”</p> - -<p>“How does she come into your expenditures?”</p> - -<p>“She doesn’t come in,” said Margaretta, with satisfaction. -“I haven’t done a thing for her beyond -being polite and talking to her whenever I get a -chance, and, oh, yes—I did give her a drive.”</p> - -<p>“Well, but—”</p> - -<p>“Let me explain. If I hadn’t been taken with a -fit of economy, I would, in the natural order of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -things, have made a dinner for Miss Gregory. I -would have had a picnic, and perhaps a big evening -party. Think what it would have cost—you remember -Mrs. Handfell?”</p> - -<p>Her husband made a face.</p> - -<p>“You never liked her, and I did wrong to have -her here so much. Well, Roger, do you know I -spent a large sum of money in entertaining that -woman? I am ashamed to tell you how much. I -had her here, morning, noon, and night. I took her -up the river—you remember the decorated boats -and the delightful music. It was charming, but we -could not afford it, and when I went to New York -she met me on Fifth Avenue, and said, ‘Oh, how -do you do—so glad to see you. Be sure to call -while you are here. My day is Friday.’ Then she -swept away. That was a society woman who had -graciously allowed me to amuse her during her -summer trip to Maine. I was so hurt about it that -I never told you.”</p> - -<p>“What an empty head,” said Roger, picking up -the list.</p> - -<p>“It taught me a lesson,” continued his wife. -“Now go on—do read the other things.”</p> - -<p>His eyes had run down to the total. “Whew,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -Margaretta!—you don’t mean to say you have -saved all this in a month?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t felt any tightening in your household -arrangements. Why, at what a rate were we living?”</p> - -<p>“At a careless rate,” said Margaretta, seriously, -“a careless, slipshod rate. I bought everything I -wanted. Flowers, in spite of our greenhouse, fruit -and vegetables out of season, in spite of our garden, -but now I look in the shop windows and say -with a person I was reading about the other day, -‘Why, how many things there are I can do without,’—and -with all my economy I have yet managed -to squeeze out something for Grandma. I -just made her take it.”</p> - -<p>Roger’s face flushed. “Margaretta, if you will -keep this thing going, we won’t have to give up -this house.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll keep it going,” said Margaretta, solemnly, -“you shall not leave this house. It would be a -blow to your honest pride.”</p> - -<p>The young man was deeply moved, and, lifting -his face to the pale, rising young moon, he murmured, -“Thank God for a good wife.” Then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -turned to her. “I wish some other men starting -out in life had such a helper as you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, wish them a better one,” said Margaretta, -humbly; “but I know what you mean, Roger. A -man cannot succeed unless his wife helps him.”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes it makes me furious,” said Roger, -warmly. “I see fellows down-town, young fellows, -too, working early and late, straining every nerve -to keep up the extravagance of some thoughtless -young wife. Why don’t the women think? Men -hate to complain.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta hung her head. Then she lifted it, -and said, apologetically, “Perhaps they haven’t had -wise grandmothers.”</p> - -<p>Roger smiled. “Upon my word, a man in choosing -a wife ought to look first at the girl’s grandmother.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“‘My grandma lives on yonder little green,</div> -<div class="verse">Fine old lady as ever was seen.’”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">chanted a gay voice.</p> - -<p>“Bonny,” exclaimed Margaretta, flying out of -her seat.</p> - -<p>They were a remarkable pair as they came up -the gravel walk together—the tall lad and the -tall girl, both light-haired, both blue of eyes, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -pink, and white, and smooth as to complexion like -a pair of babies.</p> - -<p>The elder man stared at them admiringly. Bonny -was the baby of the orphan family that the sterling -old grandmother had brought up. Strange that -the grandson of such a woman had so little character, -and Roger sighed slightly. Bonny was a mere -boy, thoughtless, fond of fun, and too much of a -favourite with the gay lads about the town. However, -he might develop, and Roger’s face brightened.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you dear Bonny,” said Margaretta, pressing -his arm, “it was so good in you to remember your -promise to come and tell me about your afternoon -on the river. You had a pleasant time, of course.”</p> - -<p>“Glorious,” said the lad. “The water was like -glass, and we had a regular fleet of canoes. I say, -Margaretta, I like that chap from Boston. Do -something for him, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, Bonny, what do you want me to do?”</p> - -<p>“Make him some kind of a water-party.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta became troubled. “How many people -do you want to invite?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, about sixty.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think if we had three or four of -your chosen friends he would enjoy it just as -much?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, I don’t; what do you think, Roger?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about him. I hate crowds myself.”</p> - -<p>“I like them,” said Bonny. “Come, Margaretta, -decide.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, my dear, spoiled boy,” said the girl, in -perplexity, “I would give a party to all Riverport -if it would please you, but I am trying dreadfully -hard to economize. Those large things cost so -much.”</p> - -<p>Bonny opened wide his big blue eyes. “You are -not getting mean, Margaretta?”</p> - -<p>“No, no, my heart feels more generous than -ever, but I see that this eternal entertaining on a -big scale doesn’t amount to much. Once in awhile -a huge affair is nice, but to keep it up week after -week is a waste of time and energy, and you don’t -make real friends.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Bonny, good-naturedly. “I’ll -take him for a swim. That won’t cost anything.”</p> - -<p>“Now, Bonny,” said Margaretta, in an injured -voice, “don’t misunderstand me. We’ll have a -little excursion on the river, if you like, with half -a dozen of your friends, and I’ll give you a good -big party this summer—you would rather have it -later on, wouldn’t you, when there are more girls -visiting here?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, indeed, let us wait for the girls,” said -Bonny.</p> - -<p>“And in the meantime,” continued Margaretta, -“bring the Boston boy here as often as you like, -to drop in to meals. I shall be delighted to see -him, and so will you, Roger, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said -the young man, who had gone off into a reverie, -“but it’s all right if you say so.”</p> - -<p>Bonny laughed at him, then, jumping up, said, -“I must be going.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s the dog, Margaretta?” asked Roger. -“I’ll walk home with the boy.”</p> - -<p>“But your headache,” said his wife.</p> - -<p>“Is all gone—that prescription cured it,” said -the young man, with a meaning glance at the -sheet of note-paper clasped in his wife’s hand.</p> - -<p>She smiled and waved it at him. “Wives’ cold -cash salve for the cure of husbands’ headaches.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a salve is that?” asked Bonny, -curiously.</p> - -<p>“Wait till you have a house of your own, Bonny,” -said his sister, caressingly, “and I will tell you.”</p> - -<p>Then, as the man and the boy walked slowly -away, she slipped into the hammock and turned her -face up to the lovely evening sky.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Little moon, I call you to witness I have begun -a countermarch. I’m never more going to spend -all the money I get, even if I have to earn some of -it with my own hands!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE TRAINING OF A BOY</span></h2> - -<p>Roger, sitting in his office at the iron works, from -time to time raised his grave face to look at Bonny, -who was fidgeting restlessly about the room.</p> - -<p>Next to his wife, Roger loved his young brother-in-law,—the -fair-haired, genial lad, everybody’s -favourite, no one’s enemy but his own.</p> - -<p>He wondered why the boy had come to him. -Probably he was in some scrape and wanted help.</p> - -<p>Presently the boy flung himself round upon him. -“Roger—why don’t some of you good people try -to reform me?”</p> - -<p>Roger leaned back in his chair and stared at -the disturbed young face.</p> - -<p>“Come, now, don’t say that you don’t think I -need reformation,” said the boy, mockingly.</p> - -<p>“I guess we all need that,” replied his brother-in-law, -soberly, “but you come of pretty good stock, -Bonny.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;" id="illus3"> -<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="500" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“‘WHY DON’T SOME OF YOU GOOD PEOPLE TRY TO REFORM ME?’”</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The stock’s all right. That’s why I’m afraid of -breaking loose and disgracing it.”</p> - -<p>“What have you been doing?” asked Roger, -kindly.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t been doing anything,” said the boy, -sullenly. “It’s what I may do that I’m afraid of.”</p> - -<p>Roger said nothing. He was just casting about -in his mind for a suitable reply, when the boy went -on. “If you’ve been brought up just like a parson, -and had all kinds of sentiments and good thoughts -lived at you, and then don’t rise to the goodness -you’re bursting with, it’s bound to rebel and give -you a bad time.”</p> - -<p>The man, having got a clue to the boy’s mental -trouble, hastened to say, “You act all right. I -shouldn’t say you were unhappy.”</p> - -<p>“Act!” repeated the boy. “Act, acting, actors, -actresses,—that’s what we all are. Now I’d like -to have a good time. I don’t think I’m far out of -the way; but there’s Grandma—she just makes -me rage. Such goings on!”</p> - -<p>“What has your grandmother been doing?”</p> - -<p>“She hasn’t done much, and she hasn’t said a -word, but, hang it! there’s more in what Grandma -doesn’t say than there is in what other women do -say.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re right there, my boy.”</p> - -<p>“Now, what did she want to go give me a latch-key -for?” asked the boy, in an aggrieved tone, -“just after I’d started coming in a little later than -usual? Why don’t she say, ‘My dear boy, you -are on the road to ruin. Staying out late is the -first step. May I not beg of you to do better, my -dear young grandson? Otherwise you will bring -down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.’”</p> - -<p>“This is what she didn’t say?” asked Roger, -gravely.</p> - -<p>“This is what she didn’t say,” repeated the boy, -crossly, “but this is what she felt. I know her! -The latch-key was a bit of tomfoolery. An extra -lump of sugar in my coffee is more tomfoolery.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want her to preach to you?”</p> - -<p>“No,” snarled the handsome lad. “I don’t want -her to preach, and I don’t want you to preach, and -I don’t want my sisters to preach, but I want some -one to do something for me.”</p> - -<p>“State your case in a more businesslike way,” -said the elder man, gravely. “I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p>“You know I’m in the National Bank,” said -Bonny, shortly.</p> - -<p>“Certainly I know that.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma put me there a year ago. I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -object to the bank, if I’ve got to work. It’s as -easy as anything I could get, and I hate study.”</p> - -<p>Roger nodded.</p> - -<p>“Being in the bank, I’d like to rise,” Bonny went -on, irritably, “but somehow or other there seems -a little prejudice in the air against me. Has any -one said anything to you?”</p> - -<p>“Not a word.”</p> - -<p>The boy drew a long breath. “Perhaps it’s partly -imagination. They’re very down on fun in our -bank. Now when hours are over, and I come -out, there’s a whole gang of nice fellows ready to -do anything that’s going. Sometimes we play -billiards. On fine days we’re always on the river. -There’s no harm in that, is there?”</p> - -<p>“Not that I see,” observed Roger, cautiously.</p> - -<p>“Then, when evening comes, and we want to -sit down somewhere, we have a quiet little game of -cards. There’s no harm in that, is there?”</p> - -<p>“Do you play for money?”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes—well, perhaps nearly always, but -there’s no harm in that, is there?”</p> - -<p>“Let me hear the rest of your story.”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes I’m late getting home. We get interested, -but that’s nothing. I’m almost a man. Five -hours’ sleep is enough for me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> - -<p>A long pause followed, broken finally by Roger, -who said, calmly, “You have given an account of -your time. What is wrong with it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s all wrong,” blurted the boy, “and you -know it.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t said so.”</p> - -<p>“But you feel it. You’re just like Grandma—bother -it! Don’t I know she thinks I ought to -spend my evenings at home, reading about banking, -so as to work myself up to a president’s chair?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you get any time for reading through the -day?”</p> - -<p>“How can I?” said the boy, eloquently, “when -I was almost brought up out-of-doors, and as soon -as the bank closes every square inch of flesh of -me is squealing to get on the river. Now what -do you think I ought to do?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a puzzling case,” said Roger, with a slow -shake of his head. “According to your own account, -you are leading a blameless life. Yet, according -to the same account, you are not happy in it, -though no one is finding fault with you.”</p> - -<p>“No one finding fault!” said the boy, sulkily. -“Why, the very stones in the street stare at me -and say, ‘Animal! Animal! you don’t care for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -anything but fun. You’d skip the bank every day if -you dared.’”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you?”</p> - -<p>Bonny gave himself a resounding thwack on -the chest. “Because,” he said, “Grandma has -planted something here that won’t be downed. -Something that won’t let me have a good time -when I know she isn’t pleased with me. Sometimes -I get so mad that I think I will run away, but that -wouldn’t do any good, for she’d run with me. She’d -haunt my dreams—I don’t know what I’m going -to do!”</p> - -<p>Roger, carefully concealing all signs of compassion, -gazed steadily at the distressed face. “Do -you want to break away from your set?” he asked, -at last.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t. They’re good fellows.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what are you going to do about that bad -feeling inside of you?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said Bonny, bitterly. “I know -Grandma thinks I’m going to be like Walt Everest, -big and fat and jolly, and everybody’s chum, who -can sing a song, and dance a jig, and never does -any business, and never will amount to anything.”</p> - -<p>“Did she ever say so?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” growled the boy, “but don’t I tell you I -know what Grandma’s thinking about?”</p> - -<p>“How does your sister Berty take you?” asked -Roger.</p> - -<p>“Just like Grandma,” blazed the boy, in sudden -wrath, “never says a word but a pleasant one, -catches me in a corner and kisses me—kisses me!—just -think of it!”</p> - -<p>Roger thought deeply for a few minutes, while -Bonny took up his miserable ramble about the room.</p> - -<p>“Look here, boy,” he said, finally. “You do as -I tell you for a week. Begin from this minute. -Read that magazine, then go home with me to -dinner. After dinner come back here and help me. -I’m working on some accounts for a time. That -will be an excuse to the boys for not playing cards.”</p> - -<p>Bonny’s face was clearing. “A good excuse, -too,” he muttered. “If I said I was going with -Grandma or the girls, they’d laugh at me.”</p> - -<p>“You tell them you are working on my books, -and I am paying you. That will shut their mouths, -and you’ll not object to the extra money.”</p> - -<p>“I guess I won’t. I’m hard pushed all the time.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you save anything from your salary for -Grandma?” asked Roger, keenly.</p> - -<p>“How can I?” said the boy, indignantly. “She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -has brought me up to be clean. It takes nearly -everything I get to pay my laundry bill—I dare -say you think I’m a brute to be so selfish.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll send you home every night at ten, and -mind you go to bed,” said Roger, calmly. “Five -hours’ sleep is not enough for a boy of eighteen. -Get up in the morning and go to the bank. As -soon as it closes in the afternoon I’ll have business -in Cloverdale that will take you on a drive there.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a daisy, Roger,” said Bonny, in a low -voice.</p> - -<p>Roger cast down his eyes. That flushed, disturbed -face reminded him of his own beautiful Margaretta. -Pray Heaven, he would never see such -trouble and dissatisfaction in her blue eyes.</p> - -<p>Bonny had already thrown himself into a deep -leather-covered armchair, and was apparently absorbed -in the magazine. Presently he looked up. -“Roger, don’t you tell the girls what I’ve been -saying.”</p> - -<p>“No, I won’t.”</p> - -<p>“Nor Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“No, nor Grandma.”</p> - -<p>But Grandma knew. There was no hoodwinking -that dear, shrewd old lady, and when next she met -Roger, which was the following morning, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -was on his way to his office, and she was on her -way to call on his wife, her deep-set eyes glistened -strangely, and instead of saying “Good morning, -dear grandson-in-law,” as she usually did, she said -“Good morning, dear son.” She considered him as -much one of the family as her three beloved orphan -grandchildren.</p> - -<p>Yes, Grandma knew, and Grandma approved of -what he was doing for her poor, wilful, troubled -Bonny.</p> - -<p>Every evening for five evenings the lad came to -the iron works, and steadfastly set his young face -to the sober, unexciting examination of dull rows -of figures, stretching indefinitely across white pages.</p> - -<p>On the fifth night something went wrong with -him. In the first place, he was late in coming. -In the second place, his nerves seemed to be stretched -to their utmost tension.</p> - -<p>“What’s up with you?” asked Roger, when, after -a few minutes’ work Bonny pushed aside the big -books, and said, “I’m going home.”</p> - -<p>“I’m tired,” said Bonny. “I hate this bookkeeping.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said his brother-in-law, composedly. -“I’m tired myself. Let’s have a game of chess.”</p> - -<p>“I hate chess,” said Bonny, sulkily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I wonder whether it’s too early for supper?” -asked Roger, good-humouredly getting up and going -to a closet.</p> - -<p>He looked over his shoulder at Bonny as he spoke. -Every night at half-past nine he was in the habit -of producing cakes, candy, syrup, fruit, and nuts -for the boy’s supper. It was not very long since -he had been a boy himself, and he remembered his -chronic craving for sweet things.</p> - -<p>“You’re always stuffing me,” replied Bonny, disagreeably. -“You think you’ll make me good-natured.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you, Bonny?” asked -Roger, closing the door and returning to his seat.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” -snarled Bonny, miserably, rolling his head about -on his folded arms resting on the table. “I hate -everything and everybody. I could kill you, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“All right—there’s a pair of Indian clubs over -there in the corner,” said his brother-in-law, cheerfully.</p> - -<p>“I thought I’d be an angel after a few nights’ -association with you,” continued the lad, “and you -make me feel worse than ever.”</p> - -<p>“Looks as if I were a bad sort of a fellow, -doesn’t it?” remarked Roger, philosophically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re not bad,” snapped Bonny. “You’re a -tremendous good sort. I’m the brute. Roger, why -don’t you preach to me?”</p> - -<p>For some time Roger stared at him in silence; -then he said, “Seems to me you can preach better -to yourself. If I were going to set up for a preacher -I’d only hold forth to the impenitent.”</p> - -<p>“The fellows are going to a dance at Hickey’s -to-night,” said Bonny, suddenly pounding on the -table with his fist, “and I’m not in it, and then at -midnight they’re going to see the circus arrive, and -I’m not in that.”</p> - -<p>“At Hickey’s—where is that?”</p> - -<p>“Up the road; don’t you know?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; rather gay people, aren’t they?”</p> - -<p>“Well, they’re not in Margaretta’s set; but then -she is mighty particular.”</p> - -<p>“Would you take her there if she cared to go?”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t—well, go on, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“Go on where?” asked the elder man, in slight -bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“To embrace your opportunity—administer a -rebuke—cuff a sinner,” sneered Bonny.</p> - -<p>Roger grinned at him.</p> - -<p>“My dear boy,” began Bonny, in an exasperated -tone, “let me exhort, admonish, and counsel you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -never to go to any place, or visit any resort, or indulge -in any society where you could not take your -venerable grandmother and your beloved sisters.”</p> - -<p>“Not bad for a beginner,” said Roger, patronizingly.</p> - -<p>“I’m going,” said the boy, abruptly jumping up. -“I feel as if I should fly in fifty pieces if I stayed -here any longer—till I see you again, Roger.”</p> - -<p>He was already on the threshold, but Roger -sauntered after him. “Hold on a bit—four days -ago you came to me in something of a pickle.”</p> - -<p>“You bet your iron works I did,” replied Bonny.</p> - -<p>“I helped you out of it.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you did.”</p> - -<p>“For four evenings you have come here and -helped me, and I am going to pay you well for it.”</p> - -<p>“Glory on your head, you are,” said Bonny, -wildly.</p> - -<p>“In these four days,” continued Roger, “you -have been early at the bank—you have done your -work faithfully there. You have not shirked.”</p> - -<p>“Not a hair’s breadth, and mighty tired I am of -it. I’m sick of reformation. I’m going to be just -as bad as I can be. Hurrah for Hickey’s,” and he -was just about darting off, when Roger caught him -by the arm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Listen to me for a minute. I ask you to give -me one day more. Stay here with me to-night. -Do your work as usual. Go home to bed. Fill in -to-morrow properly, then in the evening, at this -time, if you want to go back to your old silly tricks, -go. I wash my hands of you.”</p> - -<p>Bonny turned his face longingly toward the city, -thought deeply for a few minutes, then retraced his -steps. “I’ll be good to-night,” he said, threateningly, -“but just you wait till to-morrow night -comes.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got a conscience,” said Roger, sternly; -“if you choose to choke it and play the fool, no one -is strong enough to hold you—pass me that ledger, -will you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, shut up,” blurted Bonny, under his -breath. However, he sat down quietly enough, and -did his work until the clock struck ten.</p> - -<p>Then he stifled a yawn, jumped up, and said, “I’m -going now.”</p> - -<p>“Mind, seven-thirty to-morrow evening,” said -Roger, stiffly.</p> - -<p>“All right; seven-thirty for once more, and only -once,” said Bonny, with glistening eyes, “for once -more and only once! I’m tired of your stuffy old -office, and strait-laced ways.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Good night,” said Roger, kindly, “and don’t -be a fool.”</p> - -<p>Bonny ran like a fox down the long lane leading -to the city. “He’s making for his burrow,” -said Roger, with a weary smile. “He’s a scamp, but -you can trust him if he once gives his word. I -wish I were a better sort of a man,” and with -mingled reverence and humility he lifted his gaze -to the stars. “If that boy is going to be saved, -something has got to be done mighty quick!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BONNY’S ORDEAL</span></h2> - -<p>“What’s the matter, Roger?” asked his wife, -when he went home.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” said the young man, wearily, but -he went to bed early, and, rising early the next -morning, strode off to the iron works without taking -his breakfast.</p> - -<p>How he loved the handsome lad, his wife’s -double. What could he do, what could he say? -Until now he had considered the boy inferior in -character to his two sisters. But, as he had often -assured himself, the stock was good, and the strength -and energy latent in Bonny were now looming to -the fore. He was emerging from boyhood into -manhood, and his childish, happy-go-lucky disposition -of youth was warring with the growing forces -of more mature age.</p> - -<p>The morning wore on, and his gloominess increased, -until his father shortly told him that he -didn’t look well, and he had better go home.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m all right,” Roger was saying, almost harshly, -when there was a ring at his telephone. The -National Bank wanted to speak to him.</p> - -<p>“Hello,” said Roger.</p> - -<p>“Can you come up to the bank?” asked some one, -in a jerky voice. “Have had a robbery—young -Gravely hurt.”</p> - -<p>Roger dashed from his seat, seized his hat, and -with a hurried word to his father, rushed outside.</p> - -<p>A delivery-cart was standing before the door. -He did not stop to see whose it was, but seizing the -reins, urged the horse toward the centre of the city.</p> - -<p>There was a crowd around the bank, but the -cordon of police let him through. Inside was a -group of bank officials, reporters, and detectives.</p> - -<p>The president’s face was flushed and angry. -“Yes we have had a loss,” he said to Roger. “Oh, -young Gravely—his grandmother came for him.”</p> - -<p>Roger elbowed his way out and took a cab to -River Street.</p> - -<p>Here it was quiet. The noise of the bank robbery -had not reached this neighbourhood. He ran -up-stairs three steps at a time to Bonny’s large room -in the top of the house, and softly pushed open the -door.</p> - -<p>Bonny was in bed. Grandma, Berty, a woman of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -the neighbourhood, and a doctor were bending over -him.</p> - -<p>Roger could see that the boy’s face was pale and -bandaged.</p> - -<p>“Bonny,” he said, involuntarily.</p> - -<p>The boy heard him and opened his eyes.</p> - -<p>“All right, Roger,” he murmured, feebly. “I -stood by the fort, but I—guess—you’ll—have—to—excuse—me—to-night,” -and his voice trailed -off into unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>The doctor looked impatiently over his shoulder, -and Roger crept out into the hall.</p> - -<p>Grandma sent Berty after him. “Oh, Roger,” -she whispered, “we had such a fright.”</p> - -<p>“What is it—how was it?” asked Roger, -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Why, the circus-parade was passing the bank. -Every clerk but Bonny left his desk to go look -at it. They don’t seem to know why he stayed. -When the parade passed, and the clerks went back, -he was lying on the floor with his face and head -cut.”</p> - -<p>“I know why he stayed,” muttered Roger. “He -was trying to do his duty. Thank God, he was -not killed. Is he much hurt?”</p> - -<p>“Some bad flesh wounds. The doctor says he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -must be kept quiet, but he doesn’t think his brain -is injured. Oh, Roger, we are so thankful his life -was spared.”</p> - -<p>“Probably the thieves didn’t try to kill him. If -I can do nothing, I’ll go find out something about -the affair. I must telephone Margaretta. She will -be upset if she hears from strangers.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, go,” said Berty, “and ask her to come to -us.”</p> - -<p>Late that evening, the doctor, to quiet his feverish -patient, permitted him to have five minutes’ conversation -with his brother-in-law.</p> - -<p>Roger seized the hand lying on the coverlet, and -pressed it silently.</p> - -<p>“Did they catch the thieves?” asked Bonny, -huskily.</p> - -<p>“One of them, my boy—how do you think the -detectives made sure of him?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t know.”</p> - -<p>“He was hanging around the circus-crowd, trying -to mix up with it—he had some of your yellow -hairs on his coat-sleeve.”</p> - -<p>Bonny smiled faintly.</p> - -<p>“The police expect him to turn State’s evidence,” -continued Roger.</p> - -<p>“How much did the bank lose?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Fifteen thousand dollars.”</p> - -<p>“But they’ll get it back, Roger?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, if they catch the other fellow, and they’re -sure to do it. Bonny, you’re not to talk. Just tell -me if this is straight—I want it for the papers. -You stood at your desk, all the others ran to the -street door. Then—”</p> - -<p>“Then,” said Bonny, “I was mad. I wanted to -look at the circus, but I had promised you not to -shirk. But I just gritted my teeth as I stood there. -I was staring after the others when I heard a little -noise in the president’s room. I turned round, and -saw a man peeping out. I had no revolver, and I -didn’t know where Danvers kept his, and like an -idiot I never thought to scream. I just grabbed -for Buckley’s camera. You know he is a photographic -fiend.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” smiled Roger, and he thought of what -the captured thief had asked one of the policemen -guarding him: “How’s that gritty little demon that -tried to snap us?”</p> - -<p>“I was just pressing the button,” went on Bonny, -“when the man leaped like a cat, and, first thing I -knew, he was smashing me over the head with that -camera. There was such a row in the street that -the others didn’t hear it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Five minutes are up,” said the doctor, coming -into the room.</p> - -<p>“One minute, Roger,” said the boy, feebly. “I -had a second before I got whacked, and in that -second I thought, ‘Here’s a specimen of the leisure -class toward which I am drifting. I’ll stay with -the workers,’ so, Roger, we’ll not call off that contract -of ours to-night.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Roger, beaming on him, and -backing toward the door. “It’s to stand—for how -long?”</p> - -<p>“For ever!” said the boy, with sudden force, -just as the doctor gently pushed him back on his -pillow, and, putting a teaspoonful of medicine to -his lips, said, “Now, young sir, you take this.”</p> - -<p>Roger, with a smiling face, sought Grandma and -Berty on the veranda at the back of the house. -“He’ll be all right in a day or two.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is the shock that has upset him more -than the wounds,” said Berty. “The burglars only -wanted to silence him.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma, do you know the bank is going to -discharge every man-Jack but Bonny?” said Roger.</p> - -<p>Grandma’s eyes sparkled, then she became -thoughtful.</p> - -<p>“What, all those old fellows?” exclaimed Berty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Bonny won’t stay,” said Grandma, quietly. -“He would feel like a prig.”</p> - -<p>“I am going to take him in the iron works with -me,” said Roger. “I won’t be denied. He will -make a first-class business man.”</p> - -<p>“Under your tuition,” said Grandma, with a -proud look at him.</p> - -<p>“Hush,” said Berty, “the newsboys are calling -an extra.”</p> - -<p>They all listened. “Extry edeetion <cite>Evening -Noose</cite>—cap-tchure of the second burrgg-lar of the -great bank robbery.”</p> - -<p>“Good,” cried Berty, “they’ve caught the second -man. Roger, dear, go get us a paper.”</p> - -<p>The young man ran nimbly down-stairs.</p> - -<p>“How he loves Bonny!” said Berty. “What a -good brother-in-law!”</p> - -<p>Grandma said nothing, but her inscrutable gaze -went away down the river.</p> - -<p>“And, Grandma,” went on Berty, “let me tell -you what Bonny whispered to me before I left the -room. He said, ‘I’ve sometimes got mad with -Grandma for always harping on keeping the family -together, but I see now that if you keep your own -family together, you keep your business family together.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<p>Grandma did not reply. Her gaze was still down -the river, but the girl, watching her lips, saw them -softly form the words, “Thank God!”</p> - -<p>Bonny’s ordeal was past, and it had better fitted -him for other and perhaps more severe ordeals in -his life to come.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BERTY IMPARTS INFORMATION</span></h2> - -<p>Mrs. Stanisfield was making her way to her -roof-garden.</p> - -<p>“If any callers come,” she said to her parlour-maid, -“bring them up here.”</p> - -<p>Presently there was an exclamation, “What -cheer!”</p> - -<p>Margaretta looked around. Her irrepressible sister -Berty stood in the French window, her dark -head thrust forward inquiringly.</p> - -<p>“Come out, dear,” said Mrs. Stanisfield, “I am -alone.”</p> - -<p>“I want to have a talk,” said Berty, coming forward, -“and have you anything to eat? I am hungry -as a guinea-pig.”</p> - -<p>“There is a freezer of ice-cream over there behind -those azaleas—the cake is in a covered dish.”</p> - -<p>Berty dipped out a saucerful of ice-cream, cut -herself a good-sized piece of cake, and then took a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -low seat near her sister, who was examining her -curiously.</p> - -<p>“Berty,” said Margaretta, suddenly, “you have -something to tell me.”</p> - -<p>Berty laughed. “How queer things are. Two -months ago we had plenty of money. Then -Grandma lost everything. We had to go and live -in that old gone-to-seed mansion on River Street—you -know what a dirty street it is?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know—I wish I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not sorry we went. I’ve had such experiences. -I thought I wouldn’t tell you, Margaretta, -till all was over. You might worry.”</p> - -<p>“What have you been doing?” asked Margaretta, -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“You remember how the neighbours thought -we were missionaries when we first moved to the -street?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do.”</p> - -<p>“And when I spoke sharply to a slow workman, -an impudent boy called out that the missionary was -mad?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I recall it—what neighbours!”</p> - -<p>“I shall never forget that first evening,” said -Berty, musingly. “Grandma and I were sitting by -the fire—so tired after the moving—when a dozen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -of those half-washed women came edging in with -Bibles and hymn-books under their arms.”</p> - -<p>“It was detestable,” said Margaretta, with a -shrug of her shoulders, “but does it not worry you -to repeat all this?”</p> - -<p>“No, dearest, I am working up to something. -You remember the women informed us in a mousie -way that they had come to have a prayer-meeting, -and I cuttingly told them that we weren’t ready for -callers. Dear Grandma tried to smooth it over by -saying that while we had a great respect for religious -workers, we did not belong to them, but her salve -didn’t cover the wound my tongue had made.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” asked Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Here begins the part that is new to you,” said -Berty, jubilantly. “To snub one’s neighbours is -a dangerous thing. Every tin can and every decrepit -vegetable in our yard next morning eloquently proclaimed -this truth.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say they had dared—”</p> - -<p>“Had dared and done—and our yard had just -been so nicely cleaned. Well, I was pretty mad, but -I said nothing. Next morning there was more rubbish—I -went into the street. There was no policeman -in sight, so I went to the city hall. Underneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -is a place, you know, where policemen lounge -till they have to go on their beats.”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t know. I never was in the city -hall in my life. You didn’t go alone, Berty?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I did—why shouldn’t I? I’m a free-born -American citizen. Our grandfather was one -of the leading men of this city. His taxes helped -to build that hall. I’ve a right there, if I want to -go.”</p> - -<p>“But without a chaperon, and you are so young, -and—and—”</p> - -<p>“Beautiful.”</p> - -<p>“I was going to say pretty,” remarked Margaretta, -severely.</p> - -<p>“Beautiful is stronger,” said Berty, calmly. -“What a lovely view you have from this roof-garden, -Margaretta. How it must tranquillize you -to gaze at those trees and flower-beds when anything -worries you.”</p> - -<p>“Do go on, Berty—what did you do at the city -hall?”</p> - -<p>“A big policeman asked what I wanted. I -thought of one of dear grandfather’s sayings, -‘Never deal with subordinates if you can get at -principals,’ so I said, ‘I want to see your head -man.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That’s an African tribe expression, I think,” -murmured Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Evidently, for he grinned and said, ‘Oh, the -chief,’ and he opened the door of a private office”.</p> - -<p>“Another big man sat like a mountain behind a -table. He didn’t get up when I went in—just -looked at me.”</p> - -<p>“‘Are you over the police of this city?’” I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘I am,’ he said.</p> - -<p>“‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ve come to apply to you for -protection. My neighbours throw tin cans in my -back yard every night, and I don’t like it.’</p> - -<p>“He grinned from ear to ear, and asked me where -I lived.</p> - -<p>“‘On River Street,’ I said.</p> - -<p>“He gave a whistle and stared at me. I didn’t -have on anything remarkable—only a black cloth -walking-skirt with a round hat, and that plain-looking -white shirt-waist you gave me with the pretty -handwork.”</p> - -<p>“Which cost forty dollars,” said Margaretta, under -her breath.</p> - -<p>“Well, that man stared at me,” went on Berty, -“and then what do you think he said in an easy -tone of voice—‘And what have you been doing -to your neighbours, my dear?’</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Margaretta, I was furious. ‘Get up out of -your seat,’ I said, in a choking voice. ‘Take that cap -off your head, and remember that you are in the -presence of a lady. My grandfather was the late -Judge Travers of this city, my brother-in-law is -Mr. Roger Stanisfield, of the Stanisfield Iron Works, -and my great-uncle is governor of the State. I’ll -have you put out of office if you say “my dear” to -me again.’”</p> - -<p>Margaretta held her breath. Berty’s face was -flaming at the reminiscence, and her ice-cream was -slipping to the floor. “What did he say?” she -gasped.</p> - -<p>“I wish you could have seen him, Margaretta. -He looked like a bumptious old turkey gobbler, -knocked all of a heap by a small-sized chicken.</p> - -<p>“‘I beg your pardon,’ he said, scuttling out of -his seat, ‘I’m sure, Miss, I didn’t dream who you -were.’</p> - -<p>“‘It isn’t your business to dream,’ I said, still -furious. ‘When a woman comes to you with a complaint, -treat her civilly. You’re nothing but the -paid servant of the city. You don’t own the citizens -of Riverport!’</p> - -<p>“That finished him. ‘I’m going now,’ I said. -‘I don’t want to sit down. See that you attend to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -that matter without delay,’ and I stalked out, and -he followed me with his mouth open, and if I didn’t -know what had happened, I’d say he was standing -at that door yet gazing up the street after me.”</p> - -<p>“What did happen?” asked Margaretta, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“I got my back yard cleaned,” said Berty, drily. -“Grandma says two policemen came hurrying up -the street before I got home. They went into some -of the houses, then women came out, and boys -swarmed over our fence, and in an hour there wasn’t -the ghost of a tin can left.”</p> - -<p>“Think of it,” said Margaretta, “what wretched -things for you to be exposed to—what degradation!”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t any worse for me than for other women -and girls,” said Berty, doggedly, “and I’m going -to find out why River Street isn’t treated as well -as Grand Avenue.”</p> - -<p>“But River Street people are poor, Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Suppose they are poor, aren’t they the children -of the city?”</p> - -<p>“But, Berty—workmen and that sort of people -can’t have fine houses, and horses and carriages.”</p> - -<p>“Not for horses and carriages, not for fine houses -am I pleading, but for equal rights in comfort and -decency. Would you take your cold dip every morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -if you had to cross a frozen yard in winter, -and a filthy yard in summer for every drop of water -you use?”</p> - -<p>Margaretta shuddered.</p> - -<p>“Would you have your house kept clean if it -were so dark that you couldn’t see the dirty corners?”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t,” said Margaretta, decidedly, -“but who owns those dreadful places?”</p> - -<p>“You do,” said Berty, shortly.</p> - -<p>“I do!” said Margaretta, aghast.</p> - -<p>“Yes—some of them. Roger holds property -down there in your name. All the rich people in -the city like to invest in River Street tenements. -They’re always packed.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t have it,” said Margaretta. “Roger -shall sell out.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t sell—improve your property, and get -some of the stain off your soul. Women should -ask their husbands where they invest their money. -Good old Mrs. Darlway, the temperance worker, -owns a building with a saloon in it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, misery!” exclaimed Margaretta, “she -doesn’t know it, of course.”</p> - -<p>“No—tell her.”</p> - -<p>“How have you found all this out, Berty?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ve talked to the women.”</p> - -<p>“What—the women of the tin can episode?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they’re all over that now—they understand -Grandma and me—and what a lot of things -they’ve told me. Haven’t you always thought that -policemen were noble, kind creatures, like soldiers?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Margaretta, innocently, “aren’t -they?”</p> - -<p>“They’re the most miserable of miserable sinners.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Berty, surely not all!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be generous and leave out half a -dozen if it will please you. The others all take -bribes.”</p> - -<p>“Bribes!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, bribes. Did you ever see a lean policeman, -Margaretta?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>“I never did—they’re all fat as butter, like the -sinners in the Psalms. Now, no one need ever tell -me that the police are honest, till I see them all get -lean with chasing after evil. Now they just stand -round corners like green bay-trees, and take bribes.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta was silent for a long time, pondering -over this new department of thought opened up to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -her. Then she said, “Why don’t you get the women -to leave this hateful neighbourhood?”</p> - -<p>“How can they?” said her sister, mournfully, -“their husbands work on the wharves. But I mustn’t -make you too gloomy. Let me tell you about the -heart of the Mayor.”</p> - -<p>“You were dreadfully sad just after you went -to River Street,” said Margaretta; “was this the -trouble?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Berty, lowering her voice, “the woes -of the poor were sinking into my heart.”</p> - -<p>“Poor child—but take your ice-cream. It is -melting and slipping down your gown, and the dog -has eaten your cake.”</p> - -<p>“Has he?” said Berty, indifferently. “Well, -dog, take the ice-cream, too. I want to talk—I came -out of our house one morning, Margaretta; there -were three pitiful little children on the door-step. -‘Children, do get out of this,’ I said. ‘We may have -callers, and you look like imps.’”</p> - -<p>“Have you had any more callers?” asked Margaretta, -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the Everests, and Brown-Gardners, and -Mrs. Darley-James.”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Darley-James!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Mrs. Darley-James, that fastidious dame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -I’ve read that when you get poor, your friends -forsake you, but ours have overwhelmed us with -attentions.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma is an exceptional woman,” said Margaretta, -proudly.</p> - -<p>“And do you know every one of those women -noticed the children. Mrs. Darley-James nearly -fainted. I had to go to the door with her, as we -have no well-trained maid, but only that stupid -woman of the neighbourhood. ‘Why, the children -all look ill,’ Mrs. Darley-James said.</p> - -<p>“‘A good many of them are,’ I replied. ‘Two -died in that yellow house last night.’</p> - -<p>“She said, ‘Oh, horrible!’ and got into her -carriage. Well, to come back to this day that I -stood on the door-step talking to the children. They -looked up at me, the dear little impudent things, and -said, ‘We ain’t goin’ to move one step, missus, -’cause you gets the sun longer on your side of the -street than we does.’</p> - -<p>“What they said wasn’t remarkable, but I choked -all up. To think of those pale-faced babies manœuvering -to sit where they could catch the sun as he -peeped shyly at them over the roofs of the tall -houses. I felt as if I should like to have the demon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -of selfishness by the throat and shake him till I -choked him. Then I flew to the city hall—”</p> - -<p>“The city hall again?” murmured Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Yes—what is the city hall but a place of refuge -for the children of the city? I asked to see the -Mayor. A young man in the other office said he -was busy.”</p> - -<p>“‘Then I’ll wait,’ I said, and I sat down.</p> - -<p>“He kept me sitting there for a solid hour. You -can imagine that I was pretty well annoyed. At the -end of that time three fat, prosperous-looking men -walked from the inner sanctum, and I was invited -to go in.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE HEART OF THE MAYOR</span></h2> - -<p>“Inside was a smaller, but still prosperous-looking -man sitting like a roly-poly behind a desk, and -blinking amiably at me with his small eyes.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta smiled, and asked, “Young or old?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, I don’t know—couldn’t tell his age -any more than I could tell the age of a plum-pudding. -His face was fat and red, and he had so little -hair that it might be either gray or sandy. I’d give -him any age between fifteen and fifty.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now, I don’t suppose he would be fifteen.”</p> - -<p>“He acts like it sometimes,” said Berty, warmly. -“Years have not taught him grace and experience, -as they have Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“What is his name?”</p> - -<p>“Jimson—Peter Jimson.”</p> - -<p>“Let me see,” murmured Margaretta, “there is -a Mrs. Jimson and there are two Misses Jimson who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -are dying to get into our set. I heard the Everests -laughing about them.”</p> - -<p>“Same ones, probably—well, he knew enough to -stand up when I went in. I said ‘Good morning’ -and he looked so amiable that I thought he would -give me not only what I wanted, but the whole -city besides.</p> - -<p>“When we had both sat down, I said, ‘I will -not take up your time, sir. I have merely come -to ask you to give the children of the East End a -park to play in.’</p> - -<p>“He lowered his eyes, and began to play with -a paper-knife. Then he looked up, and said, ‘May -I ask your name?’</p> - -<p>“‘My name is Miss Gravely,’ I told him, ‘and -I am Mrs. Travers’s granddaughter.’</p> - -<p>“‘Oh, indeed,’ he replied, ‘and why are you interested -in the children of the East End?’</p> - -<p>“‘Because I live there—on River Street. We -have lost our money.’</p> - -<p>“He looked surprised at the first part of my -sentence. I think he knew about the last of it. -Then he said, ‘Have the children asked for a park?’</p> - -<p>“‘No, sir,’ I said, ‘they haven’t.’</p> - -<p>“‘Then why give it to them?’ he inquired, mildly.</p> - -<p>“‘Does a good father always wait to have his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -children demand a necessity before he offers it?’ -I replied.</p> - -<p>“He smiled, and began to play with the paper-knife -again.</p> - -<p>“‘The children have nowhere to go, sir,’ I went -on. ‘The mothers drive them from the dirty houses, -the sailors drive them from the wharves, the truck-men -drive them from the streets.’</p> - -<p>“‘A park might be a good thing,’ he said, cautiously, -‘but there is no money in the treasury.’</p> - -<p>“I felt myself growing hot. ‘No money in the -treasury, sir, and you can put up a magnificent building -like this? Some of this money has been taken -from the children.’</p> - -<p>“He said the city had its dignity to maintain.</p> - -<p>“‘But there is charity, sir, as well as dignity.’</p> - -<p>“He smiled sweetly—his whole attitude was one -of indulgent sympathy for a youthful crank, and -I began to get more and more stirred up.</p> - -<p>“‘Sir,’ I said, ‘I think you must be a stepfather.’</p> - -<p>“‘Sometimes step-parents display more wisdom -than real parents,’ he said, benevolently.</p> - -<p>“I thought of the good stepmother Grandma had -when a girl. He was right this time, and I was -wrong, but this didn’t make me more comfortable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -in my mind. ‘There is no need of new pavements -on Broadway, sir,’ I blurted out.</p> - -<p>“‘We must make the business part of the city -attractive,’ he said, ‘or strangers won’t come here.’</p> - -<p>“‘Strangers must come,’ I said, bitterly, ‘the -children can die.’</p> - -<p>“‘There is no place for a park on River Street,’ -he went on. ‘Property is held there at a high figure. -No one would sell.’</p> - -<p>“‘There is Milligan’s Wharf, sir,’ I replied. ‘It -is said to be haunted, and no sailors will go there. -You could make a lovely fenced-in park.’</p> - -<p>“‘But there is no money,’ he said, blandly.</p> - -<p>“Something came over me. I wasn’t angry on -my own account. I have plenty of fresh air, for -I am boating half the time, but dead children’s faces -swam before me, and I felt like Isaiah and Jeremiah -rolled in one.</p> - -<p>“‘Who made you, unkind man?’ I said, pointing -a finger at him.</p> - -<p>“He wouldn’t tell me, so I told him, ‘God made -you, and me, and the little children on River Street. -Do you dare to say that you stand higher in His -sight than they do?’</p> - -<p>“He said no, he wouldn’t, but he was in office -to save the city’s money, and he was going to do it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>“‘Let the city deny itself for the children. You -know there are things it could do without. If you -don’t, the blood of the children will be on your -head.’</p> - -<p>“He twisted his shoulders, and said, ‘See here, -young lady, I’ve been all through this labour and -capital business. Labour is unthrifty and brainless. -You’re young and extreme, and don’t understand. -I’ve done good turns to many a man, and never had -a word of thanks.’</p> - -<p>“‘Tell me what you like about grown people,’ I -said, wildly, ‘I’ll believe anything, but don’t say a -word against the children.’</p> - -<p>“He twisted his shoulders again, and slyly looked -at his watch.</p> - -<p>“I got up. ‘Sir,’ I said, ‘River Street is choked -with dust in summer, and buried in mud and snow -in winter. The people have neither decency nor -comfort in their houses. The citizens put you over -the city, and you are neglecting some of them.’</p> - -<p>“He just beamed at me, he was so glad I was -going. ‘Young lady,’ he said, ‘you have too much -heart. I once had, but for years I’ve been trying -to educate it out of myself. I’ve nearly succeeded.’</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus4"> -<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="460" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“‘YOU HAVE TOO MUCH HEART’”</p> -</div> - -<p>“‘There must be a little left,’ I said, ‘just a little -bit. I’ll make it my business to find it. Good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -morning,’ and with this threat I left him and ran, -ran for River Street.”</p> - -<p>“Good for you,” said Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“I swept along like a whirlwind. I gathered -up the children and took them down on Milligan’s -Wharf.”</p> - -<p>“‘Children,’ I said, ‘do you know who the Mayor -is?’</p> - -<p>“They said he was the big man down in the -city hall.</p> - -<p>“‘And how did he get there?’</p> - -<p>“‘They votes him in, and they votes him out,’ a -bootblack said.</p> - -<p>“‘Who votes?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘All the men in the city.’</p> - -<p>“‘Do your fathers vote?’”</p> - -<p>“‘Course—ain’t they Riverporters?’</p> - -<p>“‘Then,’ I said, ‘you belong to the city, and you -own a little bit of the Mayor, and I have just been -asking him to give you a park to play in, but he -won’t.’</p> - -<p>“The children didn’t seem to care, so I became -demagoguish. ‘Boys and girls,’ I said, ‘the children -of the North End have a park, the children of the -South End have a park, the children of the West -End have a park, but the children of the East End<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -aren’t good enough to have a park! What do -you think ought to be done to the Mayor?’</p> - -<p>“A little girl giggled, and said, ‘Duck him in the -river,’ and a boy said, ‘Tar and feather him.’</p> - -<p>“‘No,’ I said, ‘that would not be right, but, come -now, children, don’t you want a park—a nice wide -place with trees, and benches, and swings, and a -big heap of sand to play in?’</p> - -<p>“‘Oh, glorymaroo!’ said a little girl, ‘it would -be just like a Sunday-school picnic.’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes, just like a picnic every day, and now, -children, you can have this park if you will do -as I tell you; will you?’</p> - -<p>“‘Yes, yes,’ they all shouted, for they had begun -to get excited. ‘Now listen,’ I went on, and I indicated -two of the most ragged little creatures present, -‘go to the city hall, take each other’s hands, and -when you see the Mayor coming, go up to him -politely, and say, “Please, Mr. Mayor, will you -give the children of the East End a park to play -in?”’</p> - -<p>“They ran off like foxes before I could say another -word, then they rushed back. ‘We don’t -know that gen’l’man.’</p> - -<p>“Here was a dilemma, but a newsboy, with eyes -like gimlets, got me out of it. ‘See here,’ he said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -‘I can’t wiggle in ’count of business, but I’ll give -signals. You, here, Biddy Malone, when you see -me hop on one leg, and kick a stone, you’ll know -the Mayor’s coming, see?’</p> - -<p>“The girls nodded and ran off, and he ran after -them.</p> - -<p>“I mustn’t forget to say I told them to go ask -their mothers, but, bless you, the street is so narrow -that the women all knew what I was doing, and -approved, I could tell by their grins.</p> - -<p>“‘Now I want a boy for the Mayor’s house,’ -I said.</p> - -<p>“A shock-headed urchin volunteered, and I detailed -him to sit on the Mayor’s steps till that gentleman -betook himself home for luncheon, and then -to rise and say, ‘Please, Mr. Mayor, give the children -of the East End a park to play in.’</p> - -<p>“Well, I sent out about ten couples and six singles. -They were to station themselves at intervals -along the unhappy man’s route, and by this time -the little monkeys had all got so much in the spirit -of it, that I had hard work to keep the whole crowd -from going.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta leaned back in her chair and laughed -quietly. “Well, if you’re not developing.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Put any creature in a tight place,” said Berty, -indignantly, “and see how it will squirm.”</p> - -<p>“How did the Mayor take this persecution?”</p> - -<p>“Like an angel, for the first few days. Then I -began to increase the number of my scouts. They -met him on his own sidewalk, on the corner as he -waited for the car, on the steps of his club, till at -last he began to dodge them.”</p> - -<p>“Then they got their blood up. You can’t elude -the children of the streets. I told them not to beg -or whine, just to say their little formula, then vanish.</p> - -<p>“At the end of a week he began to have a hunted -look. Then he began to peer around street corners, -then he took to a <i lang="fr">coupé</i>, and then he sprained his -ankle.”</p> - -<p>“What did the children do?”</p> - -<p>“Politely waited for him to get well, but he sent -me a note, saying he would do all he could to get -them their park, and with his influence that meant, -of course, that they should have it.”</p> - -<p>“How lovely—weren’t you glad?”</p> - -<p>“I danced for joy—but this puzzled me. I -hadn’t expected to get at his heart so soon. Who -had helped me? Grandma said it was the Lord.”</p> - -<p>“Aided by Mrs. Jimson, I suspect,” added Margaretta, -shrewdly. “This explains a mystery. Some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -time ago, I heard Roger and Tom Everest down -in the library nearly killing themselves laughing. -When I asked Roger what it was about, he said -only a Jimson joke. Then he said, ‘Can’t you keep -Berty out of the city hall?’”</p> - -<p>“I said, ‘What do you mean?’ but he wouldn’t -tell me any more. I believe that Mr. Jimson’s men -friends teased him, and his mother and sisters -brought pressure to bear upon him.”</p> - -<p>“They called yesterday,” said Berty, demurely.</p> - -<p>“Well, well, and did they mention your park?”</p> - -<p>“They were full of it. I went down to the -wharf with them. I am there half the time. You -must come, Margaretta, and see the work going on.”</p> - -<p>“Where did the Mayor get the money?”</p> - -<p>“Squeezed it out of something. He said his -councillors approved. He won’t see me, though—carries -on all the business by correspondence.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta looked anxious, but Berty was unheeding, -and went on, eloquently. “Isn’t it queer how -Grandma’s teaching is in our very bones? I didn’t -know I had it in me to keep even our own family -together, but I have. I’d fight like a wolf for you -and Bonny, Margaretta, and now I’m getting so -I’ll fight like a wolf for our bigger human family.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta’s anxiety passed away, and she smiled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -indulgently. “Very well, sister. It’s noble to fight -for the right, but don’t get to be that thing that -men hate so. What is it they call that sort of -person—oh, yes, a new woman.”</p> - -<p>Berty raised both hands. “I’ll be a new woman, -or an old woman, or a wild woman, or a tame -woman, or any kind of a woman, except a lazy -woman!”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE MAYOR’S DILEMMA</span></h2> - -<p>Berty was rowing down the river in her pink -boat with its bands of white.</p> - -<p>She was all pink and white, boat, cushions, oars, -dress, and complexion—except her hair and eyes, -which formed a striking and almost startling blue-black -contrast.</p> - -<p>However, Berty was nothing if not original, and -just now in the late afternoon, when all the other -boats and canoes were speeding homeward, she was -hurrying down the river.</p> - -<p>She gave a gay greeting to her friends and acquaintances, -and to many of the fishermen and river-hands -with whom she had become acquainted since -she came to live on River Street.</p> - -<p>She scarcely knew why she was turning her back -on her home at this, the time of her evening meal, -unless it was that she was so full of life and strength -that she simply could not go into the house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p>Grandma would not care. Grandma was too philosophical -to worry. She would take her knitting -to the veranda and sit tranquilly awaiting the return -of her granddaughter. If she got hungry, she -would take her supper.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Grandma is a darling,</div> -<div class="verse">Grandma is a dear,”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">chanted Berty, then she stopped. “But I must -not be selfish. I will just row round Bobbetty’s -Island and then go home.”</p> - -<p>Bobbetty’s Island was a haunted island about the -size of an extensive building lot. Poor old man -Bobbetty had lived here alone for so many years -that he had become crazy at last, and had hanged -himself to one of the spruce-trees.</p> - -<p>Picnic-parties rarely landed here—the island was -too small, and the young people did not like its -reputation. They always went farther down to -some of the larger islands.</p> - -<p>So this little thickly wooded piece of land stood -alone and solitary, dropped like a bit of driftwood -in the middle of the river.</p> - -<p>Berty was not afraid of the ghost. She was rowing -gaily round the spruces singing softly to herself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -when she saw something that made her mouth -close abruptly.</p> - -<p>An annoyed-looking man sat on a big flat rock -close to the water’s edge. He stared at her without -speaking, and Berty stared at him. This was -no ghost. Poor old Bobbetty had not appeared in -the flesh. This was a very living and very irritated -man, judging from his countenance.</p> - -<p>Berty smiled softly to herself, then, without a -word, she drew near the islet, took her hands from -the oars, and, pulling her note-book from her pocket, -coolly scribbled a few lines on a slip of paper:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>:—If you have lost your boat, which -I judge from appearances you have done, I am -willing to give you a lift back to the city.</p> - -<p class="center">“Yours truly,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Berty Gravely</span>.”</p> - -</div> - -<p>Having finished her note, she drew in an oar, put -the paper flat on the blade, stuck a pin through it -to make it firm, then extended it to the waiting and -watching man.</p> - -<p>Without a word on his part, he got up from -his rock seat, and, stretching out a hand, took the -slip of paper. Then reseating himself with a slight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -smile, he produced his own note-book, tore a leaf -from it, and took a stylographic pen from his pocket.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>:—I have indeed lost my boat. -I accept your offer with gratitude.</p> - -<p class="center">“Yours truly,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Peter Jimson</span>.”</p> - -</div> - -<p>The oar was still resting on the rocks. He pinned -his answer to it, saw Berty draw it in, read it, and -then she brought her boat round for him.</p> - -<p>Still without speaking he stepped in, somewhat -clumsily, seated himself, and mopped his perspiring -face.</p> - -<p>They were not moving, and he looked up. Berty -had dropped the oars, and had calmly seated herself -on the stern cushions. She had no intention of -rowing with a man in the boat.</p> - -<p>The Mayor set to work, while Berty lounged on -her seat and studied the shell-like tints of the sky. -Suddenly she heard a slight sound, and brought -her gaze down to the river.</p> - -<p>The Mayor was laughing—trying not to do so, -but slowly and gradually giving way and shaking -all over like a bowl of jelly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> - -<p>She would not ask him what amused him, and -presently he said, “Excuse me.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked Berty, with preternatural gravity.</p> - -<p>“Well, well,” he stuttered, “I don’t know, but I -guess it isn’t good manners for one person to laugh -when the other isn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Laugh on,” said Berty, benevolently, “the whole -river is before you.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor did laugh on, and rowed at the same -time, until at last he was obliged to take his hands -from the oars, and get out his handkerchief to wipe -his eyes.</p> - -<p>Berty’s face was hidden from him. She had -picked up a huge illustrated paper from the bottom -of the boat, and her whole head was concealed by -it. But the paper was shaking, and he had an idea -that she, too, was laughing.</p> - -<p>His suspicion was correct, for presently the paper -dropped, and he saw that his companion was in a -convulsion of girlish laughter.</p> - -<p>“Oh! oh! oh!” she cried, taking away the handkerchief -that she had been stuffing in her mouth, -“it is too funny. You hate the sight of me, and -write notes to avoid me, and then go lose your boat -on a desert island, and have to be rescued by me. -Oh! it is too delicious!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Mayor thought he could laugh, but his laughter -was nothing to this ecstasy of youthful enjoyment, -and his harsh, thick tones gradually died -away, while he listened delightedly to this rippling -outflow from pretty lips.</p> - -<p>“It is comical,” he said, after a time, when she -had somewhat calmed down. “I guess I ought to -apologize to you. I have treated you mean. But -you got a corner on me.”</p> - -<p>“A corner in street urchins,” said Berty, gaspingly; -“well, I’m obliged to you for getting the -park, but I must say I wish you would give the -work some of your personal superintendence.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been down,” he said, unguardedly.</p> - -<p>“When?” asked Berty, promptly.</p> - -<p>“At night,” he said, with some confusion. “I -slip down after I know you’ve gone to bed.”</p> - -<p>“How do you think the workmen are getting -on?” she asked, anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Fairly well—what do you want that high fence -for?”</p> - -<p>“For games—wall games. I wish we could have -baths at the end of the wharf—public baths. The -boys can go down to the river, but the women and -children have no chance. Poor souls, they suffer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -You would not like to be cut off from your daily -bath, would you, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Well, no,” replied the Mayor, cautiously, “I -don’t suppose I would.”</p> - -<p>“The city ought to build baths,” said Berty, -warmly.</p> - -<p>“There’s private charity,” said the Mayor.</p> - -<p>“Private charity, my dear sir! You don’t know -those River Street people. They have as much pride -as you have. What the city does for them is all -right—what private citizens do for them publicly, -and with all sorts of ridiculous restrictions, angers -them.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor looked longingly over his shoulder -toward the city.</p> - -<p>“Oh, pardon me,” said Berty, hurriedly. “I -shouldn’t talk business to you in my own boat when -you can’t escape me. Pray tell me of your adventures -this afternoon. Was your boat stolen?”</p> - -<p>“Stolen, no—it was my own carelessness. You -know I’m driven to death with business, and if I -take a friend out with me he’s got an axe to grind -for some one, so I steal off alone whenever I can. -Nobody goes to that island, and it’s a fine place to -read or snooze, but to-day I neglected to secure my -boat, and away it went.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And nobody came by?”</p> - -<p>“Lots of people, I suppose, but I was asleep until -just before you came.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t the river delicious?” said Berty, dreamily.</p> - -<p>“I like it well enough,” said Mr. Jimson, letting -unappreciative eyes wander over the blue water and -the smiling landscape beyond. “It’s a great place -to plan your business.”</p> - -<p>“Business, business, business,” murmured the -girl, “it seems sacrilege to mention that word here.”</p> - -<p>“If it weren’t for business of various kinds, there -wouldn’t be any Riverport,” said the man, with a -backward nod of his head.</p> - -<p>“Poor old Riverport!” said Berty; “poor, -sordid, material old Riverport!”</p> - -<p>The Mayor braced his feet harder and stared at -her. Then he said, “If it weren’t for business, -most of us would go under.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but we needn’t be holding it up all the -time, and bowing down to it, and worshipping, and -prostrating our souls before it, till we haven’t any -spirit or beauty left.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor stared at her again. Then he said, -“You don’t seem as silly as most girls.”</p> - -<p>This to Berty was a challenge. Her eyes sparkled -wickedly, and from that instant till they reached the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -city she poured out a babble of girlish nonsense that -completely bewildered the plain man before her.</p> - -<p>“Will you let me off at the city wharf?” he asked, -at last, when she had paused to take breath.</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” said Berty, “after you row me -home.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, excuse me,” he said, confusedly. “I am -so little in ladies’ society that I don’t know how to -act.”</p> - -<p>“We’ve got a tiny wharf at the end of our back -yard,” said Berty. “You’ll know it because all -the wharves round are black and dingy, but ours -is painted pink and white. There it is—look ahead -and you’ll see.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor looked, and soon the little boat was -gliding toward the gay flight of steps.</p> - -<p>“Now will you tie her up and come in through -the house?” asked Berty, politely.</p> - -<p>The Mayor did as he was requested, and, stepping -ashore, curiously followed his guide up through the -tidy back yard to the big old-fashioned house that -seemed to peer with its small eyes of windows far -out over the river.</p> - -<p>On the ground floor were a kitchen and pantry -and several good-sized rooms that had been used for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -servants’ quarters in the first, palmy days of the -old mansion.</p> - -<p>“A pity this neighbourhood was given up to poor -people,” said the Mayor, as he tramped up a narrow, -dark stairway behind his guide.</p> - -<p>“A blessing that they have something so lovely as -this river view,” said Berty, quickly. “I can’t tell -you how we appreciate it after our limited outlook -from Grand Avenue. Here is our dining-room,” and -she threw open the door of a large room at the -back of the house.</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson stepped in somewhat awkwardly. The -room was plainly furnished, but the small windows -were open, and also a glass door leading to a veranda, -where a table was prepared for the evening meal. -He could see a white cloth, and numerous dishes -covered and uncovered.</p> - -<p>“Grandma,” said Berty, “here is Mr. Jimson—you -remember hearing me speak of him.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson, filled with curiosity, turned to the -composed little old lady who came in from the -veranda and shook hands with him. This was -Madam Travers. He had been familiar with her -face for years, but she never before had spoken to -him.</p> - -<p>“Will you stay and have a cup of tea with my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -granddaughter and me?” she asked him, when he -looked uncomfortably toward the door.</p> - -<p>His gaze went again to the table. A rising breeze -had just brushed aside the napkin covering a pitcher.</p> - -<p>“Is that a jug of buttermilk I see?” he asked, -wistfully.</p> - -<p>“It is,” said the old lady, kindly.</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll stay,” he said, and he dropped his hat -on a chair.</p> - -<p>Grandma and Berty both smiled, and he smiled -himself, and, looking longingly toward the table, -said, “I can’t get it at home, and in the restaurants -it is poor stuff.”</p> - -<p>“And do you like curds and cream?” asked -Grandma, leading the way to the table.</p> - -<p>“Yes, ma’am!” he said, vigorously.</p> - -<p>“And sage cheese, and corn-cake, and crullers?”</p> - -<p>“Why, you take me back to my grandfather’s -farm in the country,” he replied, squeezing himself -into the seat indicated.</p> - -<p>“My granddaughter and I are very fond of simple -dishes,” said Grandma. “Now I’ll ask a blessing -on this food, and then, Berty, you must give Mr. -Jimson some buttermilk. I see he is very thirsty.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson was an exceedingly happy man. He -had pumpkin pie, and cold ham, and chicken, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -addition to the other dishes he liked, and to wind -up with, a cup of hot tea.</p> - -<p>“This is first-class tea,” he said, abruptly.</p> - -<p>“It came from China,” said Grandma, “a present -from a Chinese official to my late husband. I will -show you some of the stalks with the leaves on -them.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you look pretty cozy here,” said the -Mayor, after he had finished his meal, and sat gazing -out on the river. “I wish I could stay, but -I’ve got a meeting.”</p> - -<p>“Come some other time,” said Grandma, graciously.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to,” he said, abruptly. “I rarely go -out, unless it’s to a big dinner which I hate, and -sometimes you get tired of your own house—though -I’ve got a good mother and sisters,” he -added, hastily.</p> - -<p>“I have no doubt of that,” said Grandma. “They -were kind enough to call on us.”</p> - -<p>“You have a good granddaughter,” he said, with -a curious expression, as he looked down into the -back yard where Berty had gone to feed some white -pigeons, “but,” he added, “she is a puzzler sometimes. -I expect she hates me.”</p> - -<p>“She does not hate any one,” said Grandma,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -softly. “She is young and overzealous at times, -and will heartily scold the latest one to incur her -displeasure, but she has a loving heart.”</p> - -<p>“It’s fine to be young,” said the Mayor, with a -sigh; “good-night, madam. I’ve enjoyed my visit.”</p> - -<p>“Come again some other time,” said Grandma, -with quaint, old-fashioned courtesy, “we shall always -be glad to see you.”</p> - -<p>“I will, madam,” said the Mayor, and he gripped -her hand till it ached. Then he took his hat, and -trotted nimbly away.</p> - -<p>“Has he gone?” asked Berty, coming into the -room a few minutes later.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Grandma.</p> - -<p>The girl’s eyes were dancing. She was longing -to make fun of him, but her grandmother, she knew, -was inexorable. No one should ever ridicule in her -presence the guest who had broken her bread and -eaten her salt.</p> - -<p>Yet Berty must say something. “Grandma,” she -remarked, softly, “it isn’t safe to cut any one, is -it?”</p> - -<p>“To cut any one?” repeated the old lady.</p> - -<p>“To cut the acquaintance of any one. For instance—you -hate a person, you stop speaking to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -that person. You get into a scrape, that person is -the only one who can help you out.”</p> - -<p>Grandma said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Surely,” said Berty, persuasively, “in the course -of your long life, you must have often noticed it is -not only mean, but it is bad policy to break abruptly -with any one without just cause?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Grandma, quietly, “I have.”</p> - -<p>“Any further remarks to make?” inquired Berty, -after a long pause.</p> - -<p>Grandma’s dimple slowly crept into view.</p> - -<p>Berty laughed, kissed her, and ran off to bed, -saying, as she did so, “I wonder whether your new -admirer will ever call again?”</p> - -<p>Grandma tranquilly rolled up her knitting and -followed her.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A GROUNDLESS SUSPICION</span></h2> - -<p>Grandma was on the veranda, knitting, knitting, -always knitting.</p> - -<p>“What a bird’s perch this is,” said some one -suddenly, behind her.</p> - -<p>She turned round. Grandson Roger was trying -to squeeze his tall frame between the equally tall -frame of an old-fashioned rocking-chair and the -veranda railing.</p> - -<p>“How you must miss your big veranda on Grand -Avenue,” he said, coming to sit beside her.</p> - -<p>“I don’t,” said Grandma, tranquilly. “It’s wonderful -how one gets used to things. Berty and I -used to enjoy our roomy veranda, but we have -adapted ourselves to this one, and never feel like -complaining.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a wonderful thing—that power of adaptation,” -said the young man, soberly, “and I have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -theory that the primitive in us likes to return to small -quarters and simplicity. For instance, I am never -so happy as when I leave my large house and go -to live in my hunting-camp.”</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled, and took up her knitting again.</p> - -<p>Roger, who had comfortably settled himself in -the corner beside her, frowned slightly. “Grandma, -the girls tell me that you are selling these stockings -you knit.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, why not?” she asked, quietly.</p> - -<p>“But there is no need of it.”</p> - -<p>“They bring a good price. You cannot buy -home-knit silk stockings everywhere.”</p> - -<p>“But it is drudgery for you.”</p> - -<p>“I enjoy it.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, if you enjoy it. But you won’t persist -if it tires you?”</p> - -<p>“No, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“Who buys the stockings?” he asked, curiously.</p> - -<p>“I sell them among my friends. Mrs. Darley-James -buys the most of them.”</p> - -<p>His face grew red. “You supply stockings to -her?”</p> - -<p>“Why should I not?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know why, but it makes me ‘mad,’ as -Berty says.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Didn’t you supply her husband with that new -iron railing for his garden?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, ma’am, I did, and it’s a good one.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if you sell the husband a garden railing, -why shouldn’t I sell the wife a pair of stockings?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” he said, with a laugh. “I suppose -it’s the nonsensical notion about one kind of -labour being degrading, and another ennobling. -We’re all simpletons, anyway—we human beings. -Where is Berty this evening?”</p> - -<p>“Listen,” said Grandma, putting up a hand.</p> - -<p>Down in the back yard was a sound of hammering.</p> - -<p>Roger leaned over the railing. “What under the -sun is she doing?”</p> - -<p>“Puttering over those pigeons—making new -boxes for them.”</p> - -<p>“Who is with her? I see a man’s back.”</p> - -<p>“The Mayor.”</p> - -<p>“Jimson?”—and Roger fell back in his seat -with a disturbed air.</p> - -<p>“The same,” said Grandma, calmly.</p> - -<p>Roger wrinkled his forehead. “That reminds -me—came to see you partly about that. It seems -Berty and the Mayor go about a good deal together.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know?” asked Grandma, shrewdly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know, people notice them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Some one has been complaining to you,” said -Grandma. “Who was it?”</p> - -<p>Roger smiled. “Well, to tell the truth, Tom -Everest was grumbling. You know he has been -just like a brother to Berty and Margaretta.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know,” said Grandma, tranquilly. “I -just wanted to find out whether there was any public -gossip about Berty’s friendship for the Mayor. -Friendly inquiry on the part of an old playmate -is another matter.”</p> - -<p>“I cannot imagine Berty giving any one any -occasion for gossip,” said Roger, proudly.</p> - -<p>“Nor I—well, go on, what did Tom say?”</p> - -<p>“He said, ‘What does this mean, Stanisfield? -Berty is for ever on the river with the Mayor, he -is for ever dangling about her house, and that park -she is getting in shape for the children. If I were -you I’d put a word in Mrs. Travers’s ear. Don’t -speak to Berty.’”</p> - -<p>“Poor Tom!” said Grandma.</p> - -<p>“He’s jealous, I suppose,” said Roger. “Still, if -he talks, some one else may talk. What does it -mean that Jimson comes here so much? You don’t -suppose he has taken a fancy to Berty?”</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled. “Yes, I do, a strong and uncommon -fancy. He is perfectly fascinated by her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> - -<p>Roger’s jaw fell, and he smote with his fist on -the arm of the rocking-chair. “Get rid of him, -Grandma. Don’t have him round.”</p> - -<p>“Why not—he’s an honourable man.”</p> - -<p>“But not for Berty—you don’t know, Grandma. -He’s all right morally, but he’s vulgar—none of -our set go with him.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t find him unbearably vulgar. He seems -a kind-hearted man, but I am unintentionally deceiving -you. He is over forty years old, Roger.”</p> - -<p>“Well, men of forty, and men of fifty, fancy girls -of half their age.”</p> - -<p>“Fancy them, yes, but he has no intention of -falling in love with Berty. He is simply charmed -with her as a companion.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a dangerous companionship,” grumbled -Roger.</p> - -<p>“Not so—they quarrel horribly,” and Grandma -laughed enjoyably over some reminiscences.</p> - -<p>“Quarrel, do they?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Roger—my theory is that that man is too -hard worked. Fagged out when he leaves his office, -he is beset by petitioners for this thing and that -thing. At home I fancy he has little peace, for -his mother and sisters are ambitious socially, and -urge him to attend various functions for which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -has no heart. Unexpectedly he has found a place -of refuge here, and a congenial playfellow in Berty. -I think he really has to put a restraint upon himself -to keep from coming oftener.”</p> - -<p>“This is Jimson in a new light,” said Roger, -listening attentively.</p> - -<p>“In River Street,” continued Grandma, “he is -free. No one comes to find him here. He has -plenty of excitement and amusement if Berty is -about. If she is out, he sits and talks to me by -the hour.”</p> - -<p>“To you—” said Roger. “I should not think -he would have anything in common with a lady -like you.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Roger, there is beauty in every human soul,” -said the little old lady, eloquently. “The trouble -is we are all too much taken up with externals. There -is something pathetic to me about this man. Hard-working, -ambitious, longing for congenial companionship, -not knowing just where to get it, he -keeps on at his daily treadmill. He has got to be -a kind of machine, and he has tried to stifle the -spirit within him. Berty, with her youth and freshness, -has, in some way or other, the knack of putting -her finger on some sensitive nerve that responds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -easily to her touch. He is becoming quite interested -in what she is interested in.”</p> - -<p>Roger was staring at her in great amusement. -“You talk well, Grandma, and at unusual length -for you, but a man convinced against his will, you -know—”</p> - -<p>The old lady smiled sweetly at him, smiled with -the patience of one who is willing to wait a long -time in order to be understood. Then knitting steadily -without looking at her work, she gazed far out -over the beautiful river.</p> - -<p>It was very wide just here, and, now that evening -was falling, they could barely distinguish the fields -and white farmhouses on the other side. The stars -were coming out one by one—those “beautiful -seeds sown in the field of the sky.” Roger could -see the old lady’s lips moving. She was probably -repeating some favourite passages of Scripture. -What a good woman she was. What a help to him, -and what a valuable supplement to his own mother, -who was a woman of another type.</p> - -<p>His eyes grew moist, and for a long time he sat -gazing with her at the darkening yet increasingly -beautiful sky and river.</p> - -<p>The hammering went on below, until Berty’s -voice suddenly rang out. “We’ll have to stop, Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -Jimson. It’s getting too dark to see where to put -the nails.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll come help you to-morrow evening,” replied -the Mayor, in his thick, good-natured voice.</p> - -<p>“No, thank you. I won’t trouble you. I’ll get -a carpenter. You’ve been too good already.”</p> - -<p>“I like to do it. You’ve no idea how much I enjoy -puttering round a house,” replied Mr. Jimson. “I -never get a chance at home.”</p> - -<p>“Why—aren’t there things to do about your -house?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; but if I get at a thing I’m sure to be -interrupted, and then my mother doesn’t like to -see me carpentering.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to have a house of your own,” said -Berty, decidedly. “It is the duty of every man to -marry and bring up a family and to keep it together. -That helps the Union, but if you have no family -you can’t keep it together, and you are an unworthy -son of this great republic.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a fact,” replied the Mayor. “I guess -we’ll have a little talk about it. I’ll just sit down -here on this bench a minute to rest. I’m quite -blown.”</p> - -<p>Berty made no response, or, if she did, it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -in such a low tone that the occupants of the veranda -could not hear, and presently the Mayor went on.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ve often thought of getting married. A -man ought to, before he gets too old. How old -would you take me to be?”</p> - -<p>“About fifty,” came promptly, in Berty’s clear -voice.</p> - -<p>Her companion was evidently annoyed, for it -was some time before he spoke, and then he said, -briefly, “Fifty!”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Berty, kindly, “I said <em>about</em> fifty. -I dare say you’re not much more than forty.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose forty seems like dead old age to you?” -queried the Mayor, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes—it seems far off like the other side -of the river,” replied the girl.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m forty-five,” said the Mayor.</p> - -<p>“Forty-five,” repeated Berty, musingly, “just -think of it! You seem quite young in your ways.”</p> - -<p>“Young—I dare say I feel as young as you,” -he replied. “I wish you were a bit older.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked Berty, innocently.</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, I don’t know why,” he replied, with -sudden sheepishness.</p> - -<p>Roger glanced at Grandma. It was not like her -to play eavesdropper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>But dear Grandma was not hearing a word of -what was being said below. Her knitting had fallen -from her hand, her head had dropped forward, her -cheeks were gently puffing in and out. She was -quietly and unmistakably asleep.</p> - -<p>Roger smiled, and kept on listening. He had -no scruples on his own account, and he wanted his -question answered. Why was the Mayor dangling -about Berty?</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson was still on the subject of matrimony. -The quiet evening, the, as he supposed, secluded -spot, Berty’s amiability, all tended to excite confidence -in him.</p> - -<p>In response to something he had said, Berty was -remarking, with gentle severity, “I should think -you would talk this matter over with your mother -rather than with me.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Mr. Jimson said, thoughtfully, “it’s queer -how you can tell things to strangers, easier than -to your mother.”</p> - -<p>“<em>I</em> couldn’t,” said Berty, promptly. “If I were -thinking of getting married, I’d ask Grandma to -advise me. She’s had <em>so</em> much experience. She -chose Roger of all Margaretta’s admirers.”</p> - -<p>“Did she, now?” said the Mayor, in admiration. -“That was a first-class choice.” Then he asked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -insinuatingly, “And have you ever consulted her -for yourself?”</p> - -<p>“Of course not—not yet. It’s too soon.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it is,” said Mr. Jimson, in a disappointed -voice, “and, as I said before, I wish you -were ten years older.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say that you would think of -me for yourself?” asked Berty, in a sudden, joyful -voice.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I would,” he replied, boldly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank you, thank you,” said the girl, gaily; -“that’s my first proposal, or, rather, I suppose it -isn’t a <i>bona fide</i> proposal. It’s just a hint. Still -it counts. I’ve really got out into life. Margaretta -has always kept me down where gentlemen were -concerned. Older sisters have to, you know. I’ll -be just dreadfully interested in you after this. Do -let me pick you out a wife.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t know about that,” said the Mayor, -guardedly.</p> - -<p>“Just tell me what you want,” continued Berty. -“I know lots of girls, but I suppose you will want -a woman. I know some of them, too—must she -be light or dark?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson looked at Berty. “Black hair.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Very well—black hair to start with. Not tall, -but short, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Why short?” asked the Mayor, suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“Well, you’re not dreadfully tall for a man, you -know.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor seemed to be sulking for some time. -Then he said, “I like a good-sized woman.”</p> - -<p>“Tall and black-haired,” said Berty, in a businesslike -way. “Now, do you want a quiet woman, or -a lively woman—a social woman, or a home -body?”</p> - -<p>“None of your rattlers for me,” said the man, -hastily. “I want a quiet tongue, good manners, -and no wasteful habits.”</p> - -<p>“Do you want to entertain much?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, law, no!” said her companion, wearily. -“Upon my word, I think a deaf and dumb wife -would suit me best. Then she couldn’t go to parties -and drag me with her—Look here, there’s a woman -I’ve seen sometimes when I go to church with -my mother, that I’ve often thought was a nice-looking -kind of person. You’d be sure to know her, -for one of her brothers is a great friend of your -brother-in-law.”</p> - -<p>“Who is she?” asked Berty, eagerly.</p> - -<p>Her companion seemed to have some hesitation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -about mentioning the name. At last he said, -“Mother says her first name is Selina.”</p> - -<p>“Not Selina Everest—don’t tell me that,” said -Berty, quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s her name.”</p> - -<p>Berty groaned. “And is she the only woman you -have in your mind?”</p> - -<p>“She’s the only one I can think of now as cutting -any kind of a figure before me.”</p> - -<p>“Selina Everest!” groaned Berty again. “Why -don’t you say the Queen of England and be done -with it? She’s the most exclusive of our ridiculously -exclusive set. She is an aristocrat to her finger-tips. -She wouldn’t look at you—that is, I don’t think—she -probably wouldn’t—”</p> - -<p>“How old is she?” asked the Mayor, breaking -in upon her.</p> - -<p>“Let me see—Tom, her brother, is six years -older than I am, Walter is twenty-seven, Jim is -thirty, Maude is older than he is, and Augustus is -older than that. Oh, Miss Everest must be nearly -forty.”</p> - -<p>“Then she’ll jump at a chance to marry,” said -the Mayor, coolly. “Has she a good temper?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Berty, feebly, “but—”</p> - -<p>“But what? Does she snap sometimes?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, no, she is always ladylike, but I am just sure -she wouldn’t marry you.”</p> - -<p>“Why are you so sure,” asked the Mayor, sharply.</p> - -<p>“Because—because—”</p> - -<p>“Am I a red Indian or a cowboy?” asked Mr. -Jimson, indignantly.</p> - -<p>“No, but—”</p> - -<p>“Is she a strong girl?”</p> - -<p>“No, she is often in bed—I don’t really think—”</p> - -<p>“Airs, probably,” said her companion. “Has -been brought up soft. I’d break her of that.”</p> - -<p>“She wouldn’t marry you,” said Berty, desperately.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be too sure of that,” and Mr. Jimson’s -voice sounded angry to the man on the veranda -above.</p> - -<p>“I tell you she wouldn’t. I’ve heard her just -rave against people who don’t do things just as -she does. If you ate with your knife, she’d think -you were dust beneath her feet.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor was silent.</p> - -<p>“Why, if you wore carpet slippers in the parlour, -or a dressing-gown, or went about the house in -your shirt-sleeves, she’d have a fit.”</p> - -<p>“And who does all these things?” asked the -Mayor, sneeringly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You do!” replied Berty, stung into impertinence. -“They say you received a delegation of -clergymen in your slippers and dressing-gown.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a lie,” he said, promptly, “got up by -enemies.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you don’t talk elegantly,” said Berty, -wildly. “Miss Everest couldn’t stand that.”</p> - -<p>“Who says I ain’t elegant?” asked the Mayor, -fiercely.</p> - -<p>“I do,” replied his companion. “You say ‘dry’ -for thirsty, and ‘I ain’t’ for I am not, and ‘git’ -for get, and—and lots of other things, and you -don’t move gracefully. Miss Everest likes tall, thin -men. I once heard her say so.”</p> - -<p>“Is it my fault that I’m short?” roared the -Mayor. “I didn’t make myself.”</p> - -<p>Roger, convulsed with amusement on the veranda -above, saw with regret that Grandma was waking -up.</p> - -<p>“Quarrelling again!” she murmured, moving her -head about restlessly. “Send him home, Berty. -Mr. Jimson, don’t mind her.”</p> - -<p>Roger had missed something, for Berty was now -giving the Mayor a terrible scolding. “I think -you are a horrid, deceitful man. You come here -with your mind all made up about a certain woman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -You pretend to like me, then draw me out about the -one you like. I’ll never speak to you again.”</p> - -<p>Roger hung entranced over the railing. The back -gate had just slammed on Mr. Jimson, and Berty -was pouring out a flood of eloquent endearment -on the pigeons.</p> - -<p>Roger ran down the stairs with a broad smile on -his face. There was no danger of sentimental nonsense -between these two people.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Berty,” he said, “want some help with -your pidgie widgies?”</p> - -<p>“No, Roger,” she replied, disconsolately, “I -can’t get the boxes up to-night. Still, you might -help me cover them some more. I’m dreadfully -afraid of rats getting at them. There are legions -of them down here.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve had some one here, haven’t you?” said -Roger, hypocritically.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that miserable Mayor, but he’s so disagreeable -that I shan’t let him help me finish. I’m never -going to speak to him again. He’s too mean to live.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll come and help you,” said Roger, bending -over the pigeons to conceal his face. “Where are -these boxes going in the meantime?”</p> - -<p>“Up on top of those barrels. Aren’t those fan-tails<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -sweet? Oh, you lubbie dubbies, Berty loves you -better than the hateful old Mayor.”</p> - -<p>Roger laughed outright, helped his young sister-in-law -at the same time, and wondered whether the -breach between her and her new friend would be -final.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A PROPOSED SUPPER-PARTY</span></h2> - -<p>Two mornings later, Roger had come down to -River Street with a basket of green stuff for -Grandma.</p> - -<p>One result of his wife’s new economy was that -he had turned errand-boy. He grumbled a little -about it, but Margaretta was inexorable.</p> - -<p>“You want me to save,” she said. “I’m going -to do it. You can just as well run down to River -Street before you go to your office, as for me to give -a boy ten cents for doing it.”</p> - -<p>“Ten cents is a paltry sum.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but ten tens are not paltry, and if you save -ten cents twenty times you have two dollars. Now -trot along!” and Roger always trotted, smiling as -he went.</p> - -<p>On this particular morning, Grandma, after gratefully -receiving the basket, stood turning over the -crisp, green lettuce, the parsley, beets, and lovely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -flowers with her slender fingers, when Berty appeared -fresh and rosy.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Roger, dear,” she cried, flying to her writing-desk -when she saw him, “wait a moment and -take a note to the city hall, will you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Lobbyist,” said her brother-in-law, -good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>“Why, this is to the Mayor,” he said, in pretended -surprise, when she handed him her note.</p> - -<p>“Yes, why not?” asked Berty, opening her eyes -wide.</p> - -<p>“I thought you had done with him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that quarrel,” said Berty, carelessly, “that -was two whole days ago. I’ve had two bouquets, -and a bag of some new kind of feed for the pigeons -from him since then. I’m doing him a favour now. -There’s some one coming here to supper to-night that -he’d like to meet.”</p> - -<p>“Who is it?” asked Roger, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Selina Everest.”</p> - -<p>“I shouldn’t think he’d be her style,” said the -young man, guilelessly.</p> - -<p>“He isn’t,” sighed Berty, “but he likes her, and -I’m bound to give them a chance to meet. I hope -she won’t snub him.”</p> - -<p>“She is too much of a lady to do that,” said Roger.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re right,” replied Berty, but she sighed -again.</p> - -<p>Roger’s eyes sparkled. “Grandma,” he said, -abruptly turning to her, “it is some time since Margaretta -and I have had a meal in your house. Can’t -you invite us, too? We both like Selina.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, come by all means,” said the little -old lady.</p> - -<p>Berty looked doubtful and did not second the invitation.</p> - -<p>“What time is supper?” asked Roger.</p> - -<p>Grandma looked at Berty. “I let her have her -own way about the meals. Breakfast is at eight, -dinner at twelve—the universal hour on this street—high -tea at six, supper is a movable feast—what -time to-night, granddaughter?”</p> - -<p>“Ten,” said Berty, promptly, “but we’ll sit on -the veranda first and talk. Some one must keep at -the piano all the time, playing dreamy music.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Roger, promptly, “we’ll be -here.”</p> - -<p>Berty followed him to the street door. “You’ll be -nice to the Mayor.”</p> - -<p>“Nice!—I guess so.”</p> - -<p>“But don’t be too nice—don’t make fun of -him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Berty!” he said, reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you wouldn’t make fun of him openly,” she -said, with sudden wrath, “but I know that look -in your eyes,” and with a decided tap on the back -she sent him out the front door.</p> - -<p>Roger, chuckling with delight as he made his way -to the iron works, ran into Tom Everest.</p> - -<p>“What are you laughing at?” asked Tom, with -his own eyes shining.</p> - -<p>“Can’t tell,” said Roger.</p> - -<p>“I’ll bet it was some joke about Berty,” remarked -Tom.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Berty! Berty!” exclaimed his friend, “all -the world is thinking Berty, and dreaming Berty, -and seeing Berty. You’re a crank, Everest.”</p> - -<p>“It was Berty,” said Tom, decidedly. “Come, -now, out with it.”</p> - -<p>“She’s going to have a party to-night,” said -Roger, exploding with laughter; “your sister Selina -and the Mayor, my wife and I.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going too,” said Tom, firmly.</p> - -<p>Roger caught him by the shoulder. “Man, if -I find you there to-night, I’ll shoot you.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going,” said Tom, and he backed into his -insurance office, leaving Roger wildly waving his -market-basket at him from the street.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>A few hours later, Roger looked up at his wife -as he sat at the lunch-table, and said, “Don’t you -want to go to Grandma’s this evening?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear, if you do,” she replied, holding out his -cup of bouillon for him.</p> - -<p>At luncheon they were obliged to wait on themselves, -and Roger vowed that he liked it.</p> - -<p>“All right, dear,” he said, as he carefully took -the hot bouillon from her, “we’ll go.”</p> - -<p>“After dinner, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Any one else going?” asked Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“She expects some others—Selina Everest for -one.”</p> - -<p>“That’s nice,” said Margaretta, emphatically.</p> - -<p>“And the Mayor,” added Roger.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” and Margaretta drew a long breath. “I -have never met him.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you want to?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” she said, lingeringly.</p> - -<p>“Very well. I’ll come home a bit early.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta, brimming over with satisfaction, -gazed affectionately at him. “Roger, you look ten -years younger than you did four weeks ago.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got the burden of foreboding off my shoulders,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -he said, giving them a slight shake as he -spoke.</p> - -<p>“A burden that will never be placed there again, -I hope.”</p> - -<p>Roger smiled, and, looking at her happy face, said, -earnestly, “Margaretta, every day of my life I thank -God for the good fortune that made you my partner -for life.”</p> - -<p>While Roger was talking to his wife, Berty was -having a somewhat excited interview with the -Mayor.</p> - -<p>“Just grabbed ten minutes from lunch-hour,” he -said, “to run up and thank you for your invitation -for to-night—now what shall I wear? Dress -suit?”</p> - -<p>Berty looked him over. No young girl going to -her first ball ever waited a reply with more anxiety -than he did.</p> - -<p>“Let me see,” she said, thoughtfully. “We shall -be sitting out-of-doors. I think I would not wear -evening dress. Have you got a nice dark suit?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, just got one from the tailor.”</p> - -<p>“Good—put that on.”</p> - -<p>“And what kind of a tie?” he asked, feverishly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know—white, I think. That is -cool and nice for summer.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Can’t I wear red?” he asked, anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Well, yes, a certain shade, but you’d have to -be very particular. Why do you wish red?”</p> - -<p>“I—I—a woman once told me I looked well -in red,” he said, sheepishly.</p> - -<p>Berty surveyed him as an indulgent mother might -survey a child.</p> - -<p>“Very well, wear red. It is a great thing to have -something on that you feel at ease in. But, as I -say, you must be very particular about the shade. -I’ll run up-stairs and get a piece of silk, and do you -try to match it,” and she darted away.</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson occupied the time while she was gone -in walking about the room, nervously mopping his -face, and staring out the window at the carriage -waiting for him.</p> - -<p>“Here it is,” exclaimed Berty, running back, “the -precise shade. Now <em>do</em> be particular.”</p> - -<p>“You’re real good,” he replied, gratefully, and, -pocketing the scrap, he was hurrying away, when he -turned back. “What time shall I come? Can’t I -get here before the others?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, do,” replied Berty, “come about half-past -seven.”</p> - -<p>“All right—thank you,” and he rushed away.</p> - -<p>Berty followed him to the front door. “Mr. Jimson,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -she called, when his hand was on the door-knob.</p> - -<p>“Hello!” and he turned back.</p> - -<p>“You won’t be offended with me if I say something?” -she replied, hesitatingly.</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t talk too much -to-night. Dignified reserve impresses women.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” he said, good-naturedly. “I’m safe -enough, if I don’t get rattled. Then I’m apt to -make a fool of myself and gabble. Sometimes in -making a speech I can’t wind up, even if I see people -looking mad enough to kill me.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t do that!” exclaimed Berty. “Oh, don’t -be long-winded. Just sit and watch Miss Everest.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the Mayor, “till this evening!” -and he ran down the steps.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear,” murmured Berty, as she went up-stairs, -“I’m dreadfully in doubt about this party. -I wish Margaretta and Roger weren’t coming. The -Mayor has been working himself into a state over -Miss Everest. If he doesn’t please her he’ll blame -me. Oh, dear!”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, granddaughter?” asked a -cheery voice.</p> - -<p>“I’m in trouble, Grandma. The Mayor likes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -Miss Everest. That’s why I’m asking him here -to meet her, but I’m afraid things won’t go right.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little matchmaker,” said Grandma, soothingly.</p> - -<p>“Did I do right, Grandma? I would have consulted -you before, but I didn’t like to give his secret -away.”</p> - -<p>“You did what a kind heart would prompt you -to do. Don’t worry—I will help you with your -party.”</p> - -<p>“Will you?—oh, that is lovely. Everything will -go right!” and she threw both arms round her -grandmother’s neck.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">A DISTURBED HOSTESS</span></h2> - -<p>Unfortunately for Berty, a woman across the -street chose the hour of seven o’clock to have a -fit of hysterics. Nothing would satisfy her perturbed -relatives but a visit from “Madam,” as Grandma -was known to the street.</p> - -<p>Half-past seven came, and no Mayor. Selina -Everest, tall, pale, and lilylike, in white and green, -arrived soon after, then came Margaretta and Roger, -and then, to Berty’s dismay, appeared Tom Everest, -dropping in as if he expected to find her alone.</p> - -<p>Berty said nothing, but her face grew pinker. -Then she swept them all out to the semi-darkness -of the veranda. The Mayor should not step into -that brightly lighted room and find them all there.</p> - -<p>Wedged comfortably on the veranda, and talking -over mutual friends, Margaretta, Selina, and Tom -were having a charming time. Roger, seated by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -glass door, was restless, and kept moving in and out -the dining-room.</p> - -<p>Berty was like a bird, perching here and there, and -running at intervals to the front windows, ostensibly -to watch for her grandmother, in reality to seize upon -the Mayor at the earliest moment of his arrival.</p> - -<p>Margaretta and Selina were in a corner of the -veranda. Tom was nearest the dining-room, and -presently there was a whisper in his ear. “Jimson -has arrived—hot—mad—explanatory—detained—Berty -condoling.”</p> - -<p>Not a muscle of Tom’s face moved, and Roger, -turning on his heel, departed.</p> - -<p>Presently he came back. “Berty frantic—Jimson -has got on wrong kind of necktie. She has -corralled him behind piano.”</p> - -<p>Poor Berty—she had indeed driven the unhappy -late-comer behind the upright piano in the parlour. -“Oh, Mr. Jimson, how could you? That necktie is a -bright green!”</p> - -<p>“Gr—green!” stuttered the discomfited man. -“Why, I matched your sample.”</p> - -<p>“You’re colour blind!” exclaimed the girl, in -despair. “Oh, what shall we do—but your suit -is lovely,” she added, as she saw the wilting effect -of her words upon him. “Come, quick, before any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -one sees,” and she hurried him out into the hall. -“Here, go in that corner while I get one of my -shirt-waist ties.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson, hot and perspiring, tried to obliterate -himself against the wall until she came back.</p> - -<p>“Here is a pale blue tie,” said Berty. “Now -stand before the glass in that hat-rack,—give me -that green thing. Selina Everest would have a fit -if she saw it.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor hastily tore off the bit of brilliant -grass-green silk, and, seizing Berty’s blue satin, endeavoured -to fasten it round his creaking collar.</p> - -<p>Roger peeped out through the dining-room door -and went back to Tom, and in a convulsion of wicked -delight reported. “He’s titivating in the hall—has -got on one of Berty’s ties. Just creep out to -see him.”</p> - -<p>Tom could not resist, and seeing that Margaretta -and his sister were deep in the mysteries of coming -fashions in dress, he tiptoed into the dining-room.</p> - -<p>Berty and the Mayor out in the hall were too -much engaged with each other to heed the peeping -eyes at the crack of the dining-room door.</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson was in a rage, and was sputtering -unintelligible words. Berty, too, was getting excited. -“If you say a naughty word,” she threatened,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -“I’ll take that tie away from you, and you’ll have to -go home!”</p> - -<p>The Mayor, wrathfully beating one foot up and -down on the oilcloth, was trying to make the tie -tie itself.</p> - -<p>“Hang it!” he said, at last, throwing it down, -“the thing won’t go at all. It was made for some -woman’s neck. Give me that green thing.”</p> - -<p>“You sha’n’t have it,” Berty flared up. “You -will spoil yourself. Here, let me have the blue one. -I’ll fasten it for you, if you’ll never tell any one -I did it.”</p> - -<p>Tom and Roger nearly exploded into unseemly -merriment. The sight of the unfortunate Jimson’s -face, the mingled patience and wrath of Berty, made -them clap their hands over their mouths.</p> - -<p>“There!” cried Berty, at last, “it’s tied. You -men have no patience. Look round now. Come -softly into the dining-room and drink some lemonade -before I introduce you—no, stay here, I’ll bring -it to you. Smooth your hair on the left side.”</p> - -<p>The unfortunate man, breathing heavily, stood -like a statue, while Tom and Roger tumbled over -each other out to the veranda.</p> - -<p>“What are you two laughing at?” asked Margaretta, -suspiciously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - -<p>“At that black cloud there,” said Tom, pointing -to the sky. “See it dragging itself over the stars. -I say, Stanisfield, doesn’t that cloud strike you as -being of a comical shape?”</p> - -<p>“Very,” exclaimed Roger, with sudden laughter, -“very comical. Trails out just like a four-in-hand -necktie.”</p> - -<p>“Very like it,” echoed Tom; then they both -laughed again.</p> - -<p>In the midst of their merriment, a quiet, patient -voice was heard saying, “Margaretta, let me introduce -Mr. Jimson to you,—and Miss Everest, Mr. -Jimson.”</p> - -<p>Tom and Roger huddled aside like two naughty -boys, and Berty, with the Mayor behind her, stepped -to the other end of the veranda.</p> - -<p>Margaretta stretched out a slim, pretty hand. -Miss Everest did likewise, and the Mayor, breathing -hard and fast, turned to the two men. “I don’t -need an introduction to you.”</p> - -<p>“No,” they both said, shaking hands with a sudden -and overwhelming solemnity.</p> - -<p>They all sat down, and an uninterrupted and uninteresting -chatter began. Every one but the Mayor -was good-naturedly trying to make Berty’s party -a success, and every one was unconsciously defeating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -this object by engaging in trifling and stupid small -talk.</p> - -<p>“We’re not having a bit of a good time,” said -Berty, at last, desperately. “Let’s go into the -house.”</p> - -<p>They all smiled, and followed her into the parlour. -Here at least the Mayor would be able to -look at Miss Everest. Out on the veranda he could -not see her at all.</p> - -<p>Quite unconscious of the others, he stared uninterruptedly -at her. She was apparently oblivious of -him, and was again talking fashions to Margaretta.</p> - -<p>But Tom and Roger—Berty glared wrathfully at -them. They were examining one of Grandma’s -books of engravings taken from Italian paintings, -and if it had been the latest number of some comic -paper they would not have had more fun over it.</p> - -<p>“Here is a framed one,” she said, taking a picture -from the mantel, “by Sandro Botticelli.” Then, -as she got close to them, she said, threateningly, -“If you two don’t stop giggling, I’ll shame you -before everybody!”</p> - -<p>They tried to be good, they honestly did. They -did not want to tease the kind little sister, but something -had come over the two men—they were just -like two bad schoolboys. If Mr. Jimson had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -aware of their mirth, they would have ceased, but -just now he was so utterly unconscious—so -wrapped up in the contemplation of Miss Everest, -that they went on enjoying their secret pleasure with -the luxury of good men who seldom indulge in a -joke at the expense of others, but who rival the most -thoughtless and frivolous when once they set out -to amuse themselves.</p> - -<p>Yes, Mr. Jimson was staring and silent, but after -a time his silence ceased, and he began to talk. To -talk for no apparent reason, and on no apparent -subject.</p> - -<p>Margaretta and Selina, who had been paying very -little attention to him, courteously paused to listen, -and he went on. Went on, till Berty began to twitch -in dismay, and to wink—at first slyly and secretly, -then openly and undisguisedly at him.</p> - -<p>It was of no use. He had got “rattled,” as he -had predicted, and was bound to have his say out. -He made her a slight sign with his head to assure -her that he understood her signals, and would if -he could pay attention to them, but he was too far -gone.</p> - -<p>Berty was in despair. Tom and Roger, to keep -themselves from downright shouting, were also talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -very fast and very glibly about nothing in particular.</p> - -<p>Berty, in utter dismay, turned her head to her -three groups of guests—Selina and Margaretta -gently and wonderingly polite, the Mayor seated by -a small table flooding the air with garrulity, and -Tom and Roger in the shade of the big piano lamp, -expounding all sorts of nonsensical theories and fancies.</p> - -<p>Tom just now was on language. “Yes, my dear -fellow,” he was saying, rapidly and with outstretched -arm, “language is a wonderful thing. I may say -that to see a young child grappling with the problem -is an awe-inspiring and remarkable sight. Sometimes -when it fills the air with its incoherent longings -and strivings after oral utterance, after the sounds -which custom has made the representation of ideas, -the soul of the beholder is struck dumb with admiration, -and even I may say terror. If such is -the power of the infant brain, what will be the grasp -of the adult?”</p> - -<p>At this instant Grandma entered the room. She -took in the situation at a glance, and her presence -afforded instant relief. The flood of “Jimsonese,” -as Roger and Tom styled the Mayor’s eloquence, -instantly ceased, the two bad boys shut their mouths.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>Grandma shook hands with all her guests, then -quietly sat down.</p> - -<p>“I hope you are not very tired,” said Margaretta, -gently. “How is your patient?”</p> - -<p>“Better—she only wanted a little comfort.”</p> - -<p>“What made her have hysterics?” asked Berty, -eagerly, and with a desire to make much of the -latest addition to their circle.</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled. “She is a very nervous woman, -and has been up nights a great deal with a sick -baby. She lay down about two hours ago to take -a nap. The house has a great many mice in it, and -one got in her hair. It was entangled for a few -seconds, and she was terrified. It would be very -much more afraid of her than she would be of it.”</p> - -<p>Tom and Roger laughed uproariously, so uproariously -and joyfully that Grandma’s black eyes -went to them, rested on them, and did not leave -them.</p> - -<p>But they did not care. They had not enjoyed -themselves so much for years, and they were going -to continue doing so, although their punishment was -bound to come. Presently, when the conversation -between Grandma, Margaretta, Selina, and Berty -became really interrupted by their giggling, the old -lady left her seat and came over to them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Have you been acting like this all the evening?” -she asked, severely.</p> - -<p>Tom looked at Roger, and Roger looked at Tom.</p> - -<p>“And teasing poor Berty?”</p> - -<p>Again they looked at each other.</p> - -<p>“When I was a girl,” said Grandma, musingly, -“I remember getting into those gales of laughter. -How I revelled in that intoxication of the spirit! I -would even scream with delight, and if I were alone -with my girl companions would sometimes roll on -the ground in ecstasy. You are pretty old for such -pranks, but I see you are ready for one. You ought -to be alone for a time. Follow me,” and she left the -room.</p> - -<p>She took them down-stairs. “Where are we -going?” asked Roger, humbly, and nudging Tom.</p> - -<p>“Out with the pigeons,” she said. “There is -no room in my house for guests who make fun of -each other.”</p> - -<p>“But the supper?” said Roger, anxiously.</p> - -<p>“It would grieve Berty’s hospitable heart for you -to miss that,” said Grandma, “so when you have -quite finished your laughing, come up-stairs again, -and we will all have a nice time together.”</p> - -<p>Tom gave Roger a thwack, then, as he found -himself in a latticed porch, and contemplated by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -number of mild-faced, inquiring pigeons, he dropped -on a box and began to snicker again.</p> - -<p>“What set you off?” asked the old lady, -curiously.</p> - -<p>They both began to tell her of poor Berty’s trials -with the Mayor.</p> - -<p>Grandma laughed too. “There is something -funny about that friendship,” she said, “but there -is no harm, but rather good in it, and I shall not -put a stop to it. Do you know that man would -make a good husband for your sister, Tom -Everest?”</p> - -<p>Tom at this became so silly, and began to pound -Roger on the back in such an idiotic manner, that -Grandma gently closed the door and stole away.</p> - -<p>Going up the steps, she could hear them laughing—now -in Homeric fashion. There were no women -about to be startled by their noise.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">AN ANXIOUS MIND</span></h2> - -<p>“How did I act?” asked the Mayor, humbly. It -was eight o’clock the next morning, and he was -standing before Berty as she took her breakfast -alone, Grandma having gone across the street to -visit her hysterical patient.</p> - -<p>Berty thoughtfully drank some coffee.</p> - -<p>“I’d take a cup, too, if you’d offer it to me,” -he said, still more humbly, and sitting down opposite -her. “Somehow or other I hadn’t much appetite -this morning, and only took a bite of breakfast.”</p> - -<p>Berty, still in silence, poured him out a cup of -strong coffee, and put in it a liberal supply of cream. -Then, pushing the sugar-bowl toward him, she again -devoted herself to her own breakfast.</p> - -<p>“You’re ashamed of me,” said the Mayor, lifting -lumps of sugar into his cup with a downcast air. -“I gabbled.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you gabbled,” said Berty, quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But I’m going to make an impression,” said -the Mayor, slapping the table with one hand. “I’m -going to make that woman look at me, and size me -up, if she doesn’t do anything more.”</p> - -<p>“She sized you up last night,” said Berty, mournfully.</p> - -<p>“Did she say anything about me?” asked Mr. -Jimson, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Not a word—but she looked unutterable -things.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think I’d better call on her?” he asked, -desperately.</p> - -<p>“Oh, gracious, no!” cried Berty, “you’d spoil -everything. Leave matters to me in future.”</p> - -<p>“I thought I might explain,” he said, with a -crestfallen air.</p> - -<p>“What would you explain?” asked Berty, cuttingly.</p> - -<p>“I’d tell her—well, I’d just remark casually after -we’d spoken about the weather that she might have -noticed that there was something queer, or that I -was a little out in some of my remarks—”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Berty, severely, “what then?”</p> - -<p>“I’d just inform her, in a passing way, that I’d -always been a steady man, and that if she would -kindly overlook the past—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh! oh!” ejaculated Berty, “you wouldn’t -hint to a lady that she might have thought you were -under the influence of some stimulant?”</p> - -<p>“N-n-no, not exactly,” blundered the Mayor, “but -I might quote a little poetry about the intoxication -of her presence—I cut a fine piece out of the -paper the other day. Perhaps I might read it to -her.”</p> - -<p>Berty put her arm down on the table and laughed. -“Well, if you’re not the oddest man. You are just -lovely and original.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor looked at her doubtfully, and drank -his coffee. Then he got up. “I don’t want you -to think I’m not in earnest about this business. I -never give up anything I’ve set my mind on, and -I like that woman, and I want her to be Mrs. Peter -Jimson.”</p> - -<p>Berty shivered. “Oh, dear, dear! how badly you -will feel if she makes up her mind to be Mrs. Somebody -Else—but I’ll help you all I can. You have -a great ally in me.”</p> - -<p>“I’m obliged to you,” said the Mayor, gruffly.</p> - -<p>“I was ashamed of those other two men last -evening,” said Berty, getting up and walking out -toward the hall with him. “I wanted to shake -them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I didn’t take much stock in their actions,” said -the Mayor, indifferently. “They just felt funny, -and would have carried on whether I had been there -or not.”</p> - -<p>“How forgiving in you—how noble,” said -Berty, warmly.</p> - -<p>“Nothing noble about it—I know men, and -haven’t any curiosity about them. It’s you women -that bother the life out of me. I don’t know how -to take you.”</p> - -<p>“It’s only a little past eight,” said Berty, suddenly. -“Can’t you come down to the wharf with -me? You don’t need to go to town yet.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” said the Mayor, reluctantly.</p> - -<p>Berty caught up her sailor hat, and tripped beside -him down to the street, talking on any subject that -came uppermost.</p> - -<p>The Mayor, however, returned to his first love. -“Now, if there was something I could do to astonish -her,” he said. “If her house got on fire, -and I could rescue her, or if she fell out of a boat -into the river, and I could pull her in.”</p> - -<p>“She’s pretty tall,” said Berty, turning and surveying -the rather short man by her side. “I doubt -if you could pull her in.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> - -<p>“If I got a good grip I could,” he said, confidently.</p> - -<p>“The worst of it is, those heroic things don’t -happen once in an age,” said Berty, in a matter-of-fact -voice, “and, anyway, a woman would rather -you would please her in a thousand little ways than -in one big one.”</p> - -<p>“What do you call little ways?” asked the Mayor.</p> - -<p>“Oh, being nice.”</p> - -<p>“And what is niceness?” he went on, in an unsatisfied -voice.</p> - -<p>“Niceness?—well, it is hard to tell. Pick up her -gloves if she drops them, never cross her, always -kiss her good-bye in the morning, and tell her she’s -the sweetest woman in the world when you come -home in the evening.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now,” said the Mayor, in an aggrieved -voice, “as if I’m likely to have the chance. You -won’t even let me call on her.”</p> - -<p>“No, don’t you go near her,” said Berty, “not -for awhile. Not till I sound her about you.”</p> - -<p>“How do you think I stand now with her?” -asked Mr. Jimson, with a downcast air.</p> - -<p>“Well, to tell the truth,” said Berty, frankly, “I -think it’s this way. She wasn’t inclined to pay -much attention to you at first, not any more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -if you were a table or a chair. When you began to -talk she observed you, and I think she was saying -to herself, ‘What kind of a man is this?’ Then -when Grandma drove Tom and Roger out of the -room, I think she wanted to laugh.”</p> - -<p>“Then she must have been a little interested,” -said the man, breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Berty, gravely, “when a woman -laughs at a man, it’s all up with him.”</p> - -<p>“Then you think I might as well give up?” said -the Mayor, bitterly.</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” said his sympathizer, kindly. -“There may fall to you some lucky chance to reinstate -yourself.”</p> - -<p>“Now what could it be?” asked Mr. Jimson, -eagerly. “What should I be looking out for?”</p> - -<p>“Look out for everything,” said Berty, oracularly. -“She will forget about the other night.”</p> - -<p>“I thought you told me the other day that women -never forget.”</p> - -<p>“Neither they do,” said Berty, promptly, “never, -never.”</p> - -<p>“According to all I can make out,” said the -Mayor, with a chagrined air, “you women have all -the airs and graces of a combine, and none of its -understandabilities. Your way of doing business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -don’t suit me. When I spot a bargain I jump on it. -I close the affair before another fellow has a chance. -That’s how I’ve made what little money I have.”</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t make love the way you do business,” -said Berty, shaking her head. “Oh, no, no.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now, isn’t it business to want a good -wife?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Berty, promptly, “and I admire -your up-to-date spirit. There’s been a lot of nonsense -talked about roses, and cottages, and heavenly -eyes, and delicious noses and chins. I believe in -being practical. You want this kind of a wife—look -for her. Don’t fall in love with some silly -thing, and then get tired of her in a week.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a husband would you like?” -asked the Mayor, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Berty, drawing in a long breath -of the crisp morning air. “I want a tall, slight -man, with brown curly hair and gray eyes.”</p> - -<p>“That’ll be a hard combination to find,” said her -companion, grimly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but I shall think all the more of him when -I find him, and he must be clever, very clever—ahead -of all the men in his State, whichever State -it happens to be—and he must have a perfect -temper, because I have a very faulty one, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -must be of a noble disposition, and looked up to -by every one he knows.”</p> - -<p>“I never met that kind of a man,” said the Mayor, -drily.</p> - -<p>“Nor I,” said Berty, “but there must be such -a man in the world.”</p> - -<p>“How about Tom Everest?” asked Mr. Jimson. -“I saw him looking at you last night.”</p> - -<p>“Tom Everest!” exclaimed Berty, indignantly. -“An insurance agent!”</p> - -<p>The Mayor snickered enjoyably, then fell behind -a step, for they had just reached the entrance of -Milligan’s Wharf.</p> - -<p>Berty was talking to some little girls who, even at -this early hour, were hanging about the gate of the -new park.</p> - -<p>“Of course you may come in,” she said, producing -a key from her pocket. “The workmen have -about finished—there are a few loose boards about, -but I will take care that they don’t fall on you.”</p> - -<p>With squeals of delight, the little girls dashed -ahead, then stood staring about them.</p> - -<p>Milligan’s Wharf had indeed been transformed. -A high fence surrounded it on every side, one -end had been smoothed and levelled for games, -the other was grassy and planted with trees.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Those elms will be kept trimmed,” said Berty, -“except in midsummer. I am determined that -these River Street children shall have enough sunlight -for once—just look at those little girls.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor smiled broadly. Like discoverers who -have fallen on some rich store of treasure, the little -girls had espied a huge heap of sand, and had precipitated -themselves upon it.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it queer how crazy children get over -sand?” said Berty. Then she stepped into a small -gate-house. “Here, children, are pails and shovels. -Now have a good time.”</p> - -<p>The little shovels were plied vigorously, but they -were not quick enough for the children, and presently -abandoning them, they rolled in delight over -the soft sandy mass.</p> - -<p>“There is no doubt that our park will be a success,” -said Berty, with a smile.</p> - -<p>“By the way,” asked the Mayor, shrewdly, “who -is to look after these children? If you turn all the -hoodlums of the neighbourhood in, there will be -scrapping.”</p> - -<p>“I was thinking of that,” said Berty, wrinkling -her brows. “We ought to have some man or -woman here. But we have no money to pay any -one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I suppose you wouldn’t take such a position,” -said the Mayor.</p> - -<p>“I!” exclaimed Berty, “why, I’d love it.”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t need to stay all the time,” said -Mr. Jimson. “You could get a woman to help -you.”</p> - -<p>“All the women about here are pretty busy.”</p> - -<p>“You’d pay her, of course. There’d have to be -a salary—not a heavy one—but I could fix up -something with the city council. They’ve built -the park. They’re bound to provide for it.”</p> - -<p>“I should love to earn some money,” said Berty, -eagerly, “but, Mr. Jimson, perhaps people would -talk and say I had just had the park made to create -a position for myself.”</p> - -<p>“Suppose they did—what would you care?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I’d care because I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>“And no one would think you had. Don’t worry -about that. Now I must get back to town.”</p> - -<p>“Mind you’re to make the first speech to-morrow -at the opening of this place,” said Berty.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I remember.”</p> - -<p>“And,” she went on, hesitatingly, “don’t you -think you’d better commit your speech to paper? -Then you’d know when to stop.”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t,” he said, hopelessly. “Something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -would prompt me to make a few oral remarks -after I’d laid down the paper.”</p> - -<p>“I should like you to make a good speech, because -Miss Everest will be here.”</p> - -<p>“Will she? Then I must try to fix myself. How -shall I do it?”</p> - -<p>“I might have a pile of boards arranged at the -back of the park,” said Berty, “and as soon as -you laid down the paper, I’d give a signal to a -boy to topple them over. In the crash you could sit -down.”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t,” he said, drearily. “I’d wait -till the fuss was over, then I’d go on.”</p> - -<p>“And that wouldn’t be a good plan, either,” said -Berty, “because some one might get hurt. I’ll -tell you what I’ll do. You give me a sheet of paper -just the size of that on which you write your speech. -Mind, now, and write it. Don’t commit it. And -don’t look at this last sheet till you stand on the -platform and your speech is finished.”</p> - -<p>“What will be on it?” asked Mr. Jimson, -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“The most awful hobgoblin you ever saw. I -used to draw beauties at school. When you see this -hobgoblin you won’t be able to think of anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -else. Just fix your eyes on his terrible eyes, and -you will sit down in the most natural way possible.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe I will,” he said, with a sigh, “but I -doubt it—you’re a good girl, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I’m not, Mr. Mayor, begging your -pardon. I’m only trying to be one.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve got to go,” said her companion, reluctantly. -“I wish I could skip that stived-up office -and go out on the river with you.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you could,” said Berty, frankly. “But -I’ve got work to do, too. I want every clergyman -in the town to be present to-morrow. Have your -speech short, will you, for it will probably be a hot -day.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the Mayor. “Good-bye,” and -he trotted away.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE OPENING OF THE PARK</span></h2> - -<p>The next afternoon had come, and was nearly -gone. There had been a crowd of people at the -opening of the Milligan Wharf Park. Ragged -children, sailors, day-labourers, and poor women of -the neighbourhood had stood shoulder to shoulder -with some of the first citizens of the town—citizens -who in the whole course of their lives had never -been on this street before.</p> - -<p>The well-dressed spectators had looked about -them with interest. This fad of Mrs. Travers’s -young granddaughter had excited much attention. -She had carried her scheme through, and many -curious glances had been sent in the direction of -the suddenly shy, smiling girl, trying to hide behind -the stately little grandmother, who sat looking as -if the opening of parks for poor children were a -daily occurrence in her life.</p> - -<p>There had been room for some of the audience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -in the long, low shed erected for a playroom for the -children on rainy days; however, many persons had -been obliged to sit on benches placed in the hot sunlight, -therefore the opening exercises had been arranged -to be exceedingly short.</p> - -<p>The Mayor, unfortunately, had transgressed, as -he had prophesied he would do. However, in his -speech he had, to Berty’s delight, carefully abstained -from mentioning the part she had taken in procuring -the park for the children of River Street. But succeeding -speakers had so eulogized the self-sacrificing -and public-spirited girl, that finally she had -slipped away into one of the summer-houses, where, -now that all was over, she was talking with her -grandmother.</p> - -<p>They had the park to themselves as far as grown -persons were concerned. The rich and well-to-do -people had filed away. The poor men and women -of the neighbourhood had gone to their homes for -their early evening meal.</p> - -<p>“They say every rose has a thorn,” exclaimed -Berty. “Where is the thorn in this?” and she waved -her hand about the huge playground where scores -of children were disporting themselves.</p> - -<p>“It is here,” said Grandma. “Don’t lose heart -when you see it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you see it?” asked Berty, pointedly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear.”</p> - -<p>“And what is it?”</p> - -<p>“That there must be some one here every minute -of the time to see that the big children do not impose -on the little ones. There’s a big hulking boy -slapping a little one now. I’ll go settle him,” and -Grandma nimbly walked away.</p> - -<p>“That is no thorn,” said Berty, when she came -back. “Mr. Jimson has arranged for it. He has -just told me that the city council voted me last -evening five hundred dollars as park supervisor.”</p> - -<p>“My dear!” said Grandma, in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it lovely?” murmured Berty, with flushed -cheeks. “Now I can pay all the household expenses. -With my annuity we shall be quite prosperous.”</p> - -<p>“The city appreciates what you are doing,” said -Grandma, softly, “and the Mayor has been a good -friend to you.”</p> - -<p>“Hasn’t he?” said Berty. “I must not scold him -for that awful speech.”</p> - -<p>“The opening was good,” said Grandma, mildly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, but the middle and the ending,” replied -Berty, with a groan.</p> - -<p>“Oh, how I suffered—not for myself. I could -endure to hear him speak for a year. But I do so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -want him to make a good impression on others. His -tongue is just like a spool of silk. It unwinds and -unwinds and unwinds, and never breaks off. Talk -about women’s tongues!”</p> - -<p>“He is new to public speaking. He will get over -it.”</p> - -<p>“And I made him such a thrilling hobgoblin,” -continued Berty, in an aggrieved voice. “Why, I -had nightmare last night just in dreaming about -it.”</p> - -<p>“A hobgoblin?” said Grandma, questioningly.</p> - -<p>“Yes—to stop him. It was on the last page -of his manuscript. You remember when he came -to the end of his paper, he just stopped a minute, -smiled a sickly smile, and went on. Why, that hobgoblin -didn’t frighten him a bit. It inspired him. -What was he talking about? What do people talk -about when they ramble on and on? I can never -remember.”</p> - -<p>“Berty,” said Mrs. Travers, shrewdly, “you are -tired and excited. You would better come home. -There is Mrs. Provis looking in the gate. She will -keep an eye on the children.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mrs. Provis,” said Berty, hurrying to the -gate, “won’t you come in and sit awhile till I go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -home and get something to eat? I’ll come back -presently and lock up.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, miss,” said the woman, readily. “That’s -a little thing to do for you. I guess this street takes -store of what you’ve done for our young ones.”</p> - -<p>“They’re my young ones, too,” said Berty, -proudly. “I live on the street—we’re all neighbours. -Now I’ll go. I won’t be long. Your eldest -girl can get the supper ready for your husband, -can’t she?”</p> - -<p>“That she can, miss.”</p> - -<p>Berty walked away with her grandmother, and -the woman, gazing after her, said, “Bless your black -head. I’d like to hear any one say anything agin -you in River Street.”</p> - -<p>In an hour Berty was back again, part of her -supper in her pocket.</p> - -<p>Contentedly eating her bread and butter, she sat -on a bench watching the children, most of whom -absolutely refused to go home, while others ran -merely for a few mouthfuls of something to eat.</p> - -<p>This intoxication of play in a roomy place was -a new experience to them, and Berty, with an intensely -thankful face, watched them until a heavy -footstep made her turn her head.</p> - -<p>The Mayor stood before her, two red spots on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -his cheeks, and a strange light in his eye. “I’ve -just been to your house,” he said, “and your grandmother -sent me here.”</p> - -<p>“Did she?” said Berty; then she added, promptly, -“What has happened?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson heaved a deep, contented sigh, and -seated himself beside her. “I’m a happy man, Miss -Berty.”</p> - -<p>“What are you happy about?” she asked, briskly. -“It isn’t—it isn’t Miss Everest?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is Miss Everest,” said Mr. Jimson. -“Something took place this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what?—why don’t you tell me? You’re -terribly slow.”</p> - -<p>“I’m as fast as I can be. I’m not a flash of -lightning.”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve met Miss Everest—she’s talked with -me!”</p> - -<p>“She has!” cried Berty, joyfully.</p> - -<p>“Yes, she has. You know, after the affair this -afternoon some of the people went to town. Miss -Everest was shopping.”</p> - -<p>“She always does her shopping in the morning,” -interrupted Berty. “All the smart set do.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I guess she found herself down-town,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -said Mr. Jimson, good-naturedly, “and couldn’t -get by the shops. Anyway, she was coming out -of that fol-de-rol place where you women buy dolls -and ribbons.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mean Smilax & Wiley’s.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s the place. She came out of the door, -and, turning her head to speak to some one passing -her, she almost ran into me. I stopped short, you -may be sure, and I know you’ll be mad with me -when I tell you that I forgot to take my hat off.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I won’t,” said Berty, guardedly. “It -depends on what follows.”</p> - -<p>“I just stood rooted to the spot, and staring with -all my might. She grew kind of pink and bowed. -I said, ‘Miss Everest,’ then I stopped. I guess she -was sorry for my dumbness, for she said, in a kind -of confused way, ‘What a stupid place this is. I’ve -been all over it trying to match some silk, and I -can’t find a scrap.’ And still I never said a word. -For the life of me I couldn’t think of anything. -Then she said, ‘That was a very good speech of -yours this afternoon.’”</p> - -<p>“Now surely you said something in response to -that,” interjected Berty, “such a gracious thing for -her to say.”</p> - -<p>“Never a word,” replied the Mayor, seriously,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -“and, seeing that I couldn’t or wouldn’t speak, she -went away. After she left, words came to me, and -I babbled on to myself, till the people began to -look at me as if they thought I’d gone crazy, then -I moved on.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Berty, with badly suppressed scorn, -“this is a great tale. Where have you distinguished -yourself, pray?”</p> - -<p>“Wait a bit,” said Mr. Jimson, soberly. “I -haven’t finished. Before I left the spot I cast my -eyes to the pavement. What did I see but the bit -of silk she had dropped there.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” observed Berty, in a mystified way, when -he paused.</p> - -<p>“I thought of what you said,” continued the -Mayor. “I called up your hint about small things. -I picked up the bit of silk.”</p> - -<p>“And, for goodness’ sake, what did you do with -it?” queried Berty, in distress. “Some fantastic -thing, I’ll be bound.”</p> - -<p>“I took it away to my office,” Mr. Jimson went -on, solemnly, and with the air of keeping back some -item of information that when communicated would -cover him with glory. “I’ve got an office-boy as -sharp as a needle. I gave him the piece of silk. I -said, ‘You hold on to that as if it were a fifty-dollar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -greenback. You take the seven-thirty train for -Boston. You match that silk, and get back here -as quick as you can.’”</p> - -<p>“Oh! oh!” cried Berty, “how much did you -send for?”</p> - -<p>“For a pound,” said the Mayor, tragically. “She -said she had a peóny to work, and they’re pretty -big flowers.”</p> - -<p>“Péony, not pe-ó-ny,” said Berty, peevishly. -Then she thought awhile, and the Mayor, losing his -deeply satisfied air, sat regarding her in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>At last she delivered her opinion sibyl-like. “I -don’t know whether you’ve done a good thing or -not. Only time can tell. But I think you have.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve done just what you told me,” said the astonished -man. “You said to look out for little -things.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but the question is, have you the right yet -to look out for little things,” said Berty, with some -dissatisfaction in her tone. “When grandma was -married she forgot her wedding-bouquet, and her -newly made husband had a special train leave here -to take it to Bangor, but he had the right.”</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said the Mayor, and the red spots -on his cheeks deepened, “you’re criticizing too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -much. I guess you’d better not interfere between -Miss Everest and me.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll want me to give her that silk when it -comes,” said Berty, defiantly.</p> - -<p>“I did—that’s just what I came to speak to -you about, but now I’ll give it to her myself.”</p> - -<p>“She may not like it.”</p> - -<p>“She can like it, or lump it,” said Mr. Jimson, -inelegantly; “when that parcel comes, I am going -to take it to her.”</p> - -<p>“Suppose the boy can’t match the silk?”</p> - -<p>“He’s got to,” said Mr. Jimson, obstinately.</p> - -<p>“But perhaps he can’t; then how will she ever -know you sent for it, if I don’t tell her. You would -like me to in that case, wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I’m no violet,” said Mr. Jimson, disagreeably. -“I want to get in with Miss Everest, and how can -I if I blush unseen?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell her of your blushes,” said Berty, generously. -“Come, now, let us be friends again. -From my standpoint, I think you have done nobly -and magnificently.”</p> - -<p>“But you were just blaming me.”</p> - -<p>“That was from Miss Everest’s standpoint.”</p> - -<p>“I’m blessed if I know how to take you,” muttered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -the confused man. “One minute you’re yourself, -and the next you’re another woman.”</p> - -<p>“That’s feminine reversibility,” said Berty, graciously. -“You don’t understand us yet. That is -the punishment our Creator inflicts upon you, for -not having studied us more. A pity I hadn’t known -you five years ago—come, it’s time to lock up here. -Oh, Mr. Mayor, can’t we have electric lights for this -playground?”</p> - -<p>With an effort he called back his wandering -thoughts which were on the way to Boston with his -office-boy, and looked round the darkening park. -“What do you want lights for?”</p> - -<p>“Why, these children play till all hours. It’s -mean to keep them here till dark, then turn them on -the streets. A few lights would make the place as -light as day.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor stared about him in silence.</p> - -<p>“I’ve just been thinking about the electric light -people,” continued Berty. “They’re a big, rich -company, aren’t they?”</p> - -<p>“So, so.”</p> - -<p>“Well, would it be wrong for me to go to them -and ask to have a few lights put in?”</p> - -<p>“Wrong, no—”</p> - -<p>“But would they do it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well, I guess if you went to them with your -mind made up that they ought to, they would do it -quick enough.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go,” said Berty, with satisfaction. “Thank -you so much. I’ll say you advised me.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor sighed, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Come, children,” called Berty, in her clear -voice, “it’s time to go home. Gates open at eight-thirty -to-morrow morning.”</p> - -<p>She huddled them out into the street like a flock -of unwilling sheep, then walked home beside her -suddenly silent companion.</p> - -<p>“Selina Everest sat beside Grandma to-day,” said -Berty, recurring to what she knew was now his -favourite topic of conversation.</p> - -<p>“I saw her there,” said her companion, eagerly. -“Do you suppose your grandmother—”</p> - -<p>“Yes, she did,” and Berty finished his sentence -for him. “Trust Grandma to slip a good word in -Miss Everest’s ear about you. I saw her blush, so -perhaps she is beginning to care.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps your grandmother had better take her -the silk,” said the Mayor, generously.</p> - -<p>“No, I think I’ll attend to that myself,” said -Berty, “but come in and see Grandma,” and she -paused; “we’ll have a nice talk about the Everests.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> - -<p>“By the way,” she said, ushering him out to the -veranda, and lingering for a minute before she went -to find her grandmother, “I want to thank you -again for getting me that salary for looking after -the playground. I’m just delighted—but I think -I’ll have to get a helper, for Grandma doesn’t want -me to stay there all the time.”</p> - -<p>“That’s square—just what I recommended,” -said Mr. Jimson. “Get any one you like, and give -him or her ten or twelve dollars a month to assist -you.”</p> - -<p>“But suppose he or she does half my work?”</p> - -<p>“That don’t count. Skilled labour, you know, -takes the cake.”</p> - -<p>“But if any one does half my work, they must -have half my pay.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense,” said the Mayor, abruptly.</p> - -<p>“I sha’n’t grind the face of any poor person,” -said Berty, doggedly.</p> - -<p>“All right—have it your own way, but if you -won’t mind me, consult your grandmother before -you pledge yourself.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">UP THE RIVER</span></h2> - -<p>Berty and her grandmother were having a quiet -little picnic together. They had gone away up the -river to Cloverdale, and, landing among the green -meadows, had followed a path leading to a small -hill crowned by a grove of elm-trees.</p> - -<p>Here Berty had established her grandmother on -a rug with cushions, magazines, and a new book, and -the ever-present knitting.</p> - -<p>Thinking that the little old lady wished to have -a nap, Berty left her, and, accompanied by a mongrel -dog who had come from River Street with them, -roamed somewhat disconsolately along the river -bank.</p> - -<p>This proceeding on her part just suited the occupant -of a second boat, who, unknown to Berty, had -watched her pink and white one all the way from -the city.</p> - -<p>With strong, steady strokes he pulled near the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -bank where the girl stood knee-deep in the high -meadow-grass, then, with a hypocritical start, pretended -to recognize her for the first time, just as -he was rowing by.</p> - -<p>“How de do, Berty—what are you doing here?”</p> - -<p>“Grandma and I are having a picnic,” she said, -in a lugubrious voice.</p> - -<p>“A picnic,” he repeated, incredulously, “you -mean a funeral.”</p> - -<p>“I mean what I say,” she replied, crossly.</p> - -<p>“Might a fellow land?” he asked, his eyes dancing -mischievously.</p> - -<p>“A fellow can land, or move on, or swim, or -fly, for aught I care,” she responded, ungraciously.</p> - -<p>He jumped up, sprang out of his boat, and fastened -it to the same stake where Berty’s was moored.</p> - -<p>“You’ve been looking cross-eyed at the sun,” he -said, taking off his hat and fanning himself.</p> - -<p>“Take care that you don’t do the same thing,” -said Berty.</p> - -<p>He looked at her sharply. She was cross, pure -and simple, and with a satisfied smile he went on, -“Might a fellow sit down on this grass? It looks -uncommonly comfortable.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Berty, seating herself near him. -“One might as well sit as stand.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus5"> -<img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="460" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“‘YOU’RE DYING TO TEASE ME’”</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<p>“This is pleasant,” said Tom, happily, leaning -on one elbow with his hat over his eyes, and gazing -dreamily at the river.</p> - -<p>“It is the prettiest river in the world,” remarked -Berty, decidedly.</p> - -<p>“Come now—how many rivers have you seen?” -inquired Tom.</p> - -<p>“Lots of them.”</p> - -<p>“And you have never been out of your native -State.”</p> - -<p>“I have been to Boston, and New York, and New -Orleans. How strange that you should forget it,” -replied Berty, wrathfully.</p> - -<p>“What’s made you mad, Berty?” inquired Tom, -with a brotherly air.</p> - -<p>“You know,” she said, sulkily, “you’re dying -to tease me.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little girl,” murmured Tom, under his -breath. Then he said, aloud, “Peter Jimson is in -our house morning, noon, and night now.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t I know it!” exclaimed Berty, indignantly, -“and you are encouraging him, and you can’t bear -him.”</p> - -<p>“Come now, Berty,” said Tom, protestingly. -“‘Can’t bear’ is a strong expression. I never -thought much about him till he began sending business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -my way. I tell you that makes a lot of difference. -It isn’t in human nature to look critically -at a man who gives you a helping hand in the -struggle for existence. Unless he’s a monster, -which Jimson isn’t.”</p> - -<p>“And he has helped you?” asked Berty, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Lots—he has a big influence in the city. Don’t -you know about it?”</p> - -<p>“About his influence?”</p> - -<p>“No—about his favouring me.”</p> - -<p>“He tells me nothing now,” and her tone was -bitter.</p> - -<p>“You’ve been a good friend to him, Berty. He -is never tired of singing your praises.”</p> - -<p>“To whom does he sing? To Selina?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I’m not with them much.”</p> - -<p>“Then he sings them to you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, just as soon as I pitch him the tune.”</p> - -<p>“I should think you’d know enough of me,” -said Berty, peevishly. “I’m sure you’re one of the -earliest objects I remember seeing in life.”</p> - -<p>“Come now, Berty,” he replied, good-naturedly, -“you needn’t be flinging my age up to me. I’m -only six years older than you, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that is an age.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How did you and Jimson fall out?” asked Tom, -curiously. “I’d give considerable to know.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll never know, now that I see you want to,” -replied Berty, vigorously.</p> - -<p>Tom meditatively chewed a piece of meadow-grass, -then said, easily, “I spoke in the language -of exaggeration. We all do it. Of course, I guess -that you had a quarrel. Jimson was dancing about -you morning, noon, and night, till he took a fancy -to Selina. Then you were jealous.”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t that at all,” said Berty, unguardedly. -“I wouldn’t be so silly. He broke his word about -a package of silk.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” replied Tom, coolly, “that was the silk -Selina was so delighted to get. He sent a boy to -Boston for it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and the arrangement, the very last arrangement, -was for me to present it when it came. Several -days went by; and I thought it queer I didn’t hear -from him. Then I met him in the street. ‘Couldn’t -the boy match the silk?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘Oh, yes,’ he said, ‘he brought it fast enough.’</p> - -<p>“‘And where is it?’ I asked.</p> - -<p>“‘Miss Everest has it.’</p> - -<p>“‘Miss Everest?’ I said. ‘How did she get it?’</p> - -<p>“‘Well,’ he said, ‘when it came, I just couldn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -resist. I caught it from the boy. I took a carriage -to her house—she was just at breakfast, but she -came out, and I gave it to her.’</p> - -<p>“‘And what did she say?’ I asked. Now this is -where I blame him, Tom. Just think, after all my -kindness to him, and coaching him as to the ways -of women, he just said, coolly, ‘I can’t tell you.’</p> - -<p>“‘Can’t tell me?’ I repeated. ‘You’ve got to. -I’m more interested in this affair than you are.’</p> - -<p>“‘I—I can’t,’ he stammered. ‘I’ve seen Miss -Everest several times since, and she says you’re -only a child—not to tell everything to you.’</p> - -<p>“‘Only a child!’ I said. ‘Very well!’ and I -stalked away. He sent me a bouquet of carnations -and maidenhair that evening, but of course flowers -had no effect on me.”</p> - -<p>“Selina is jealous of you,” said Tom, promptly.</p> - -<p>“I’m not jealous of her,” returned Berty, sweetly. -“I wish her every happiness, but I do think the -Mayor might have been more open.”</p> - -<p>“If he’s got to dance after Selina, his work’s -cut out,” said Tom.</p> - -<p>“Do you think she will marry him?” asked Berty, -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Marry him—of course she will. I never saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -her so pleased over anything as she was over that -silk affair. Jimson is a good-hearted fellow, Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Good-hearted, yes, but he doesn’t keep his -promises. He hasn’t got those pigeon-boxes up -yet.”</p> - -<p>“What pigeon-boxes?”</p> - -<p>“He promised to have some nailed on the shed for -me. The boxes are all made, but not put up.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll do it,” said Tom, generously. “I’ll come -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“To-morrow will be Sunday.”</p> - -<p>“Monday, then. Monday afternoon as soon as -the office closes.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said Berty, with a sigh, “but you’ll -probably forget. My friends don’t seem to be standing -by me lately.”</p> - -<p>“Your friends—why, you are the heroine of the -city—confound it, what is that dog doing?”</p> - -<p>Berty’s mongrel friend, taking advantage of -Tom’s absorbing interest in his companion, had lain -down on the grass behind him and had chewed a -piece out of his coat.</p> - -<p>“Look at it—the rascal,” exclaimed Tom, twisting -round his blue serge garment—“a clean bite. -What kind of a dog is this? Get out, you brute.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t scold him,” said Berty, holding out a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -hand to the culprit. “He doesn’t know any better. -He is young and cutting teeth.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I wish he’d cut them on some other man—look -at that coat. It’s ruined.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you get it mended?”</p> - -<p>“Who would do it for me?”</p> - -<p>“Send it to your tailor.”</p> - -<p>“It’s too shabby—I just keep it for boating.”</p> - -<p>“Ask your mother or Selina.”</p> - -<p>“They’re too busy with fancy work. Selina is -working peonies all over the place. She’s got to -use up that pound of silk.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what you’ll do, then,” observed -Berty, in an uninterested way, “unless,” with sudden -vivacity, “you give me the coat for a poor -person.”</p> - -<p>“Not I—I can’t afford that. I’ll tell you, Berty, -I ought to get a wife.”</p> - -<p>“Why, so you should,” said the young girl, -kindly. “It’s time you were getting settled. Have -you any one in mind?”</p> - -<p>“I know the kind of a girl I want,” said Tom, -evasively. “I do wish you’d help me pick her -out.”</p> - -<p>Berty shook her head with sudden wariness. “I -forgot, I’m not going to meddle with match-making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -any more. You’re sure to get a snub from the -person you’re trying hardest to benefit.”</p> - -<p>“I promise you that the girl I choose will never -snub you,” said Tom, solemnly.</p> - -<p>“There was Selina,” replied Berty, bitterly, “I -just loved her, and thought her beautiful and stately -like a picture, and far above Mr. Jimson, and now -she says I’m a child—a child!”</p> - -<p>“It’s too bad,” said Tom, sympathetically, “but -Selina was always a little bit wrapped up in herself.”</p> - -<p>“I had even got as far as the engagement-ring,” -continued Berty. “I thought a red stone—a garnet -or a ruby—would be less common than the -diamond that everybody has.”</p> - -<p>“Would you prefer a red stone for yourself?” -asked Tom, artlessly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I should think I would.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you see Selina wants to choose for herself. -You women like to manage your own affairs.”</p> - -<p>“But Mr. Jimson is just as bad. He’s as stubborn -as a mule when I want to advise him.”</p> - -<p>“I guess we all like to run our own concerns,” -said Tom, good-humouredly, “but to come back -to my girl, Berty, I do wish you would help me. -You understand women so much better than I do.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Didn’t I just tell you that I wouldn’t meddle -with matrimonial affairs again—not for any one. -Not even if dear Grandma were to ask me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now, we all have a great respect for -Grandma,” said Tom, warmly, “but I scarcely think -she is likely to think of giving you another grandfather.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you wretch!” said Berty, irritably. “I -don’t mean for herself. I mean for Bonny, or you, -or some of her young friends.”</p> - -<p>“Well, as your decision is irrevocable, I suppose -I mustn’t tease,” observed Tom, slowly getting up -and looking out over the river, “but I would really -like you to help me. Perhaps Margaretta will. -Good-bye, Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma and I are going to have a cup of tea -presently,” said Berty, staring out over the meadows -without looking at him. “We’ve brought a kettle -and some eatables. If you would like to stay, I -know Grandma would be glad to have you.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, but I don’t think I’d better accept -Grandma’s kind invitation. My mind is full of -this important business of choosing a wife, and I -want to find some one who will give me good advice. -Margaretta will just about be going to dinner by -the time I get back to the city. I’ll change my duds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -and get over just about the minute that the third -course goes in.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a girl do you want?” said Berty, -staring up at him.</p> - -<p>“A tall girl, much taller than you, or even Margaretta. -Tall and flaxen-haired like a doll.”</p> - -<p>“And blue eyes, I suppose,” said Berty, sarcastically.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, blue as the sky, and tapering fingers—white -fingers, not brown from boating and out-of-door -life.”</p> - -<p>“You want a hothouse plant,” said Berty, disdainfully.</p> - -<p>“You’ve put my very idea in words,” said Tom, -in an ecstasy, as he again sat down on the grass -near her. “I’d admire to wait on one of those -half-sick creatures. It seems to me if I could -wrap her in a white shawl in the morning, and come -back at night and find her in the same place, I’d be -perfectly happy. Now these healthy, athletic creatures -with strong opinions scurry all over the place. -You never know where to find them.”</p> - -<p>“Suppose you advertise.”</p> - -<p>“I dare say I’ll have to. I don’t know any one -of just the type I want here in Riverport, but I -thought perhaps you might know one. It doesn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -matter if she lives outside. I wouldn’t mind going -a little way.”</p> - -<p>“There’s Matty DeLong,” replied Berty. “She -has neuralgia terribly, but then her hair isn’t light.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want a neuralgic victim. It’s just a kind -of general debility girl I want.”</p> - -<p>“What about the doctor’s bills?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll pay them,” said Tom, enthusiastically. -“Give me domestic peace even at the expense of -bills.”</p> - -<p>“I expect I’d be a terrible termagant if I married,” -observed Berty, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>Her companion made no reply to this assertion.</p> - -<p>“If I asked a man for money, and he wouldn’t -give it to me, I think I’d want to pound him to -a jelly,” continued Berty, warmly.</p> - -<p>“I expect he’d let you,” observed Tom, meekly, -“but you’re not thinking of marriage for yourself, -are you, Berty?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she said, snappishly, “only when the subject -is so much discussed, I can’t help having ideas -put into my head.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you’d like a Boston man, wouldn’t -you?” inquired Tom, demurely.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Anybody that was a stranger -and celebrated would do.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You’re like me in one respect. You want a -brand-new article, not something you’ve been used -to seeing since infancy.”</p> - -<p>“I should like a President,” said Berty, wistfully, -“but when men come to the presidential chair -they’re all too old for me.”</p> - -<p>“But it must be ennobling for you to have such -an ambitious spirit,” observed Tom.</p> - -<p>“It does make me feel nice—Hark! isn’t that -Grandma calling?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Tom. “Let us go see what she -wants.”</p> - -<p>“Berty, Berty,” the distant voice was saying, -“isn’t it time to put the kettle on? We must get -home before dark.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Grandma, dear,” called Berty. “Tom -Everest is here. He will help me find some sticks. -You please sit still and rest—come, Tom, and -speak to her first,” and smiling and playing with the -dancing mongrel pup, Berty ran up the slope.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">BERTY’S TRAMP</span></h2> - -<p>Berty was away out on the lonely road leading -from the iron works to the city.</p> - -<p>Grandma had not been well all day, and Berty -had gone to ask Bonny to spend the night in the -River Street house. Since the boy’s admission into -Roger’s office he had virtually lived in Roger’s -house.</p> - -<p>Not that he loved Margaretta and Roger more -than he loved his grandmother and Berty, but the -Grand Avenue style of living was more in accord -with his aristocratic tastes than the plain ways of -the house in River Street. So the boy really had -two homes.</p> - -<p>Berty, who had been in the house with her grandmother -all through the morning, had enjoyed the -long walk out to the iron works, and was now enjoying -the long walk home.</p> - -<p>It was a perfect afternoon. “How I love the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -late summer,” murmured the girl, and she gazed -admiringly about her at the ripening grain fields, -the heavily foliaged trees, the tufts of goldenrod -flowering beside the dusty road.</p> - -<p>Away off there in the distance was a moving -cloud of dust coming from the city. Nearer at -hand, it resolved itself into a man who was shuffling -along in a lazy way, and kicking up very much -more dust than there was any necessity of doing.</p> - -<p>Berty stared at him. She knew most of the -citizens of Riverport by sight, and whether she knew -them by sight or not, she could tell by their general -appearance whether they belonged to the place.</p> - -<p>This man was a stranger—a seedy, poor-looking -man with a brown face, and he was observing her as -intently as she was observing him.</p> - -<p>Arrived opposite her, he stopped. “Lady,” he -said, in a whining voice, “please give a poor sick -man some money to buy medicine.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, -promptly.</p> - -<p>“An awful internal trouble, lady,” he said, laying -his hand on his side. “Intermittent pains come -on every evening at this time.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t look ill,” replied Berty, suspiciously. -“Your face is as bronzed as a sailor’s.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The doctors prescribed outdoor air, lady,” he -went on, whiningly.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any money for you.”</p> - -<p>The man, from his station in the road, looked -back toward the city, then forward in the direction -of the iron works. There was not a soul in -sight, and as quick as a flash an angry sentence -sprang to the girl’s lips, “Let me by.”</p> - -<p>“But, lady, I want some money,” he said, persistently, -and he stood in her way.</p> - -<p>She surveyed him contemptuously. “You want -to make me give you some, but I tell you you couldn’t -do it.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t I, lady?” he replied, half-sneeringly, -half-admiringly.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Berty, promptly, “because, in the -first place, I’d be so mad that you couldn’t get it -from me. You’re only a little man, and I guess -a gymnasium-trained girl like myself could knock -you about considerably. Then look here,” and, -stepping back, she suddenly flashed something long -and sharp and steely from her head. “Do you -see that hat-pin? It would sting you like a wasp,” -and she stabbed the air with it.</p> - -<p>The man snickered. “You’ve plenty of sand, -but I guess I could get your purse if I tried.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, how angry you make me,” returned the -girl, with a fiery glance. “Now I can understand -how one can let oneself be killed for an idea. You -might possibly overcome me, you might get my -purse, but you couldn’t kill the mad in me if you -chopped me in a thousand little pieces.”</p> - -<p>“Lady,” said the man, teasingly, “I guess you’d -give in before then, though I’ve no doubt but what -your temper would carry you considerable far.”</p> - -<p>“And suppose you got my purse,” said Berty, -haughtily, “what good would it do you? Wouldn’t -I scream? I’ve got a voice like a steam-whistle; -and the iron works close in five minutes, and this -road will be alive with good honest workmen. -They’d hunt you down like a rabbit.”</p> - -<p>For the first time a shade of uneasiness passed -over his face. But he speedily became cool. “Good -evening, lady, excuse me for frightening you,” and, -pulling at his battered hat, he started to pass on.</p> - -<p>“Stop!” said Berty, commandingly, “who are -you, and why did you come to Riverport?”</p> - -<p>He lazily propped himself against a tree by the -roadside. “It was in my line of march.”</p> - -<p>“Are you a tramp?”</p> - -<p>“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”</p> - -<p>“Where were you born?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> - -<p>“In New Hampshire.”</p> - -<p>“You weren’t born a tramp?”</p> - -<p>“Great Harry!” muttered the man, taking off -his hat and pushing back from his forehead the dark -hair sprinkled with gray, “it seems a hundred years -since I was born. My father was a well-to-do -farmer, young lady, if you want to know, and he -gave me a good education.”</p> - -<p>“A good education,” repeated Berty, “and now -you have sunk so low as to stop women and beg -for money.”</p> - -<p>“Just that low,” he said, indifferently, “and from -a greater height than you think.”</p> - -<p>“What was the height?” asked Berty, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“I was once a physician in Boston,” he returned, -with a miserable remnant of pride.</p> - -<p>“You a physician!” exclaimed Berty, “and now -a tramp!”</p> - -<p>“A tramp pure and simple.”</p> - -<p>“What made you give up your profession?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I was born lazy, and then I drank, and -I drink, and I always shall drink.”</p> - -<p>“A drunkard!” murmured Berty, pityingly. -“Poor fellow!”</p> - -<p>The man looked at her curiously.</p> - -<p>“How old are you?” she asked, suddenly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Forty-five.”</p> - -<p>“Have you tried to reform?”</p> - -<p>“Formerly—not now.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, how queer people are,” said the girl, musingly. -“How little I can understand you. How -little you can understand me. Now if I could only -get inside your mind, and know what you are thinking -about.”</p> - -<p>“I’m thinking about my supper, lady,” he said, -flippantly; then, as she looked carefully at him, he -went on, carelessly, “Once I was young like you. -Now I don’t go in for sentiment. I feed and sleep. -That’s all I care about.”</p> - -<p>“And do you do no work?”</p> - -<p>“Not a stroke.”</p> - -<p>“And you have no money?”</p> - -<p>“Not a cent.”</p> - -<p>“But how do you live?”</p> - -<p>“Off good people like you,” he said, wheedlingly. -“You’re going to give me a hot supper, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Follow me,” said Berty, suddenly setting off -toward the city, and the man sauntered after her.</p> - -<p>When they reached River Street, she opened the -gate leading into the yard and beckoned to him.</p> - -<p>“I can’t take you in the house,” she said, in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -low voice, as he followed her. “My grandmother is -ill, and then our house is very clean.”</p> - -<p>“And I am very unclean,” he said, jocularly surveying -himself, “though I’m by no means as bad -as an ash-heap tramp.”</p> - -<p>“But I’ll put you into the shed,” continued Berty. -“There are only a few guinea-pigs there. They are -quiet little things, and won’t hurt you.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you won’t give me husks for supper,” -murmured the tramp.</p> - -<p>Berty eyed him severely. His condition to her -was too serious for jesting, and she by no means -approved of his attempts at humour.</p> - -<p>“I’ll bring you out something to eat,” she said, -“and if you want to stay all night, I’ll drag you -out a mattress.”</p> - -<p>“I accept your offer with thankfulness, lady,” he -replied.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">TOM’S INTERVENTION</span></h2> - -<p>About eight o’clock that evening Tom Everest -ran in to bring Berty some rare wild flowers that -he had found in an excursion to the country.</p> - -<p>“How is your grandmother?” he asked. “I -hear she is ill.”</p> - -<p>“Better,” whispered Berty. “Bonny is with her, -but I’ve got another trouble.”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” inquired Tom, tenderly.</p> - -<p>They were standing in the front hall, and he bent -his head low to hear what she said.</p> - -<p>“There’s a tramp out in the wood-shed,” she -went on, “and I don’t know what to do with him.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go put him out,” said Tom, promptly starting -toward the back hall.</p> - -<p>“No, no, I don’t want him put out. Come back, -Tom. I want you to help me do something for -him. Just think, he was once a doctor. He cured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -other people, and couldn’t cure himself. He drinks -like a fish.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll find a place for him to disport himself -other than this,” said Tom, decidedly. “He isn’t -going to spend the night in your back yard.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Tom, don’t be foolish. He is as quiet as -a lamb. He hasn’t been drinking to-day.”</p> - -<p>“I tell you, Berty, he’s got to come out. If you -make a fuss, I’ll call Bonny down.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Tom Everest, you ought to be ashamed -of yourself. Your face is as red as a beet. What -about the Golden Rule?”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Berty,” said Tom, trying to -look calm, “but I know more about tramps than you -do. This fellow may be a thief.”</p> - -<p>“Tom—suppose you were the thief, and the -thief were you? Would you like him to talk about -you that way?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’d enjoy it. Come, Berty, lead the way.”</p> - -<p>“What do you want to do with him?” asked the -girl, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Put him in the street.”</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose he is a thief. He may rob your -neighbour’s house.”</p> - -<p>“My neighbour can look out for himself.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean that,” said Berty, quickly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -“Please do find this man a good place for the night. -Keep him out of harm.”</p> - -<p>“But, Berty, it won’t do any good. I know those -fellows. They are thoroughly demoralized. You -might just as well let this one go.”</p> - -<p>“Go where?” asked the girl, quickly.</p> - -<p>“To his appointed place.”</p> - -<p>The two young people stood staring at each other -for a few minutes, then Berty said, seriously, “Tom -Everest, you are a moral, upright man.”</p> - -<p>Tom modestly cast his eyes to the oilcloth on the -floor.</p> - -<p>“How many other young men are there like -you in the republic?” pursued Berty.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” he said, demurely.</p> - -<p>“How many tramps are there?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know that—thousands and thousands, -I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose every honest young man took a -poor, miserable tramp under his protection. Suppose -he looked out for him, fed him, clothed him, -and kept him from being a prey on society?”</p> - -<p>“I should say that would be a most undesirable -plan for the young men,” said Tom, dryly. “I’d be -afraid they’d get demoralized themselves, and all -turn tramps. It’s easier to loaf than to work.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Tom,” said Berty, firmly, “this is my tramp. -I found him, I brought him home, I have a duty -toward him. I can’t protect all the tramps in the -Union, but I can prevent this one from going on -and being a worry to society. Why, he might -meet some timid girl to-morrow and frighten her -to death.”</p> - -<p>“Oho! he tried to scare you, did he?” asked -Tom, keenly.</p> - -<p>“He asked me for money,” repeated Berty, “but -of course I didn’t let him have it.”</p> - -<p>“Tell me all about it.”</p> - -<p>When she finished, Tom laughed softly. “So -this is the gentleman you want me to befriend?”</p> - -<p>“Do you feel revengeful toward him?” asked -Berty.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to horsewhip him.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way I felt at first. Then I said to -myself, ‘Berty Gravely, you’ve got to get every -revengeful feeling out of your head before you -can benefit that man. What’s the use of being -angry with him? You only stultify yourself. Try -to find out how you can do him good.’”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Berty,” interposed Tom, with a gesture of -despair, “don’t talk mawkish, sickly sentimentality<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -to me. Don’t throw honey water over tin cans, and -expect them to blossom like the rose.”</p> - -<p>“They will blossom, they can blossom,” said -Berty, persistently, “and even if they won’t blossom, -take your old tin cans, clean them, and set them -on end. Don’t kick them in the gutter.”</p> - -<p>“What do you want me to do?” asked Tom, -helplessly. “I see you have some plan in your -mind.”</p> - -<p>This was Berty’s chance, and for a few minutes -she so staggered him by her eloquence that he sank -on the staircase, and, feebly propping his head on -his hand, stared uninterruptedly at her.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been thinking hard,” she said, in low, -dramatic tones, “very, very hard for two hours, -as I sat by Grandma’s bed. What can we do for -wrecks of humanity? Shall we pet them, coddle -them, spoil them, as you speak of doing? Not at -all. We’ve got to do something, but we mustn’t be -foolish. This tramp is like some wet, soggy piece -of wood floating down our river. It doesn’t know, -feel, nor care. You mustn’t give it a push and send -it further down the stream, but pull it ashore, and—and—”</p> - -<p>“And dry it, and make a fire and burn it,” said -Tom, briskly. “I don’t like your simile, Berty.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It was unfortunate,” said the girl. “I will start -again. I approve of societies and churches and -clubs—I think they do splendid work, and if, in -addition to what they do, every one of us would -just reach out a helping hand to one solitary person -in the world, how different things would be. We -would have a paradise here below. It’s wicked, -Tom, to say, ‘That is a worthless person, let him -go—you can do nothing for him.’ Now I’ve got -a plan for this tramp, and I want you to help me.”</p> - -<p>“I know you have, and I wouldn’t mind hearing -it, but I don’t think I’ll help you, Berty. I don’t -favour the gentry of the road.”</p> - -<p>“This is my plan,” said Berty, unheedingly; -“but first let me say that I will make a concession -to you. You may take the tramp with you, put him -in a comfortable room for the night, see that he -has a good bed, and a good breakfast in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank you, thank you,” murmured the -young man. “You are so very kind.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t give him any money,” continued Berty, -seriously, “and if you can keep him locked up without -hurting his feelings, I wish you would—but -don’t blight his self-respect.”</p> - -<p>“His what?” asked Tom, mildly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> - -<p>“His self-respect—even an animal must be protected -in that way. Don’t you know that a dog -gets well a great deal quicker, if you keep up his -good opinion of himself?”</p> - -<p>“Does he?” murmured Tom. “I—I don’t -know. I fear I have sometimes helped to lessen -a dog’s good opinion of himself.”</p> - -<p>“And, furthermore,” pursued Berty, “I want -that tramp to stay in Riverport. He’s going to be -my tramp, Tom, and yours, too, if you will be -good.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I will be good, Berty, extra good to deserve -a partnership like that.”</p> - -<p>“And you and I will look out for him. Now I’ve -been wondering what employment we can find for -him, for of course you know it isn’t good for any -man to live in idleness.”</p> - -<p>“Just so, Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we must be very cautious about what -work we find for him, for he hasn’t worked for -years.”</p> - -<p>“Something light and genteel, Berty.”</p> - -<p>“Light, but not so very genteel. He isn’t proud. -He’s only unaccustomed to work. He talked quite -frankly about himself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—did he?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, and do you know what I have decided?”</p> - -<p>“No, I’m sure I don’t.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I have just found the very thing for -him, and I dare say, if you have any money laid -aside, you may want to invest in it. First of all, -I want you to hire Bobbetty’s Island.”</p> - -<p>“Bobbetty’s Island—out in the river—old man -Bobbetty’s?”</p> - -<p>“The same, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“Ghost thrown in?”</p> - -<p>“I want you to hire it,” said Berty, severely, -“and get some of your friends to make up a party, -and go down there and put up a big, comfortable -camp for our tramp to live in.”</p> - -<p>“Why the island, Berty?” inquired Tom, in a -suppressed voice. “Why not set him up in Grand -Avenue. There’s a first-class family mansion to let -there, three doors from us.”</p> - -<p>“Tom Everest, will you stop your fooling. Our -tramp is to live on the island because if he were -in the town he would spend half his time in drinking-places.”</p> - -<p>“But won’t the river be suggestive, Berty? It -would to me, and I’m not a drinking man.”</p> - -<p>“No, of course not—he will have his work to -do, and twice a week I want you to row over yourself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -or get some one to go and bring him to town, -for he would go crazy if he were left there alone -all the time.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder you don’t get a companion for him.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to try. He has a wife, a nice woman -in New Hampshire, who left him on account of his -drinking habits. He says she will come back to -him if he gets a good situation and promises to -reform.”</p> - -<p>“Has he promised?” asked Tom, acutely.</p> - -<p>“He said he would think about it. I rather liked -him for the hesitation, for of course he is completely -out of the way of continuous application to anything.”</p> - -<p>“And what business, may I ask, are you going -to establish him in? You seemed to be hinting at -something.”</p> - -<p>“I am going to start a cat farm, and put him -in charge,” replied Berty, with the air of one making -a great revelation.</p> - -<p>“A cat farm,” echoed Tom, weakly, then, entirely -collapsing, he rolled over on his side on the staircase -and burst into silent and convulsive laughter.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">TRAMP PHILOSOPHY</span></h2> - -<p>“What are you two giggling about?” asked a -sudden voice, and Berty, looking up from the hall, -and Tom, from the staircase, saw Bonny standing -on the steps above them.</p> - -<p>“Meow, meow,” murmured Tom, in a scarcely -audible voice.</p> - -<p>“What’s up with him, Berty?” asked Bonny, -good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>“I think his head must be growing weak,” said -the girl. “Everything lately seems to amuse him. -If you hold up a finger, he goes into fits of laughter.”</p> - -<p>“Poor Tom,” said Bonny, “and once he was a -joy to his friends—I say, old man, uncurl yourself -and tell us the joke.”</p> - -<p>“Go ’way, Berty,” ejaculated Tom, partly -straightening himself, “go ’way. You hate to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -me laugh. Just like all girls. They haven’t any -more sense of humour than sticks.”</p> - -<p>“Bonny,” said Berty, turning to her brother, -“how is Grandma?”</p> - -<p>“Asleep, and resting quietly.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go sit beside her,” said the girl; then, turning -to her visitor, “Tom Everest, are you going -to do that commission for me, or are you not? -I’ve stood a good deal from you to-night. Just -one word more, and I take it from you and give -it to Bonny.”</p> - -<p>“I’m ready and willing if it’s anything good,” -said the light-haired boy.</p> - -<p>“Sha’n’t have it, Bonny,” said Tom, staggering to -his feet. “That jewel is mine. I’ll love and cherish -him, Berty, until to-morrow afternoon, then I’ll -report to you.”</p> - -<p>“Good night, then,” said Berty, “and don’t make -a noise, or you’ll wake Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“Come on, Bonny, let’s interview Berty’s treasure,” -exclaimed Tom, seizing his hat.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” inquired Bonny, curiously, following -him through the hall.</p> - -<p>“A black pearl. Didn’t she tell you?”</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t been here long. We were busy -at the works.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - -<p>Without speaking, Tom led the way down the -back staircase, through the lower hall, and out to -the wood-shed at the back of the house.</p> - -<p>“Listen to it,” he said to Bonny, with his hand -on the door-knob.</p> - -<p>“Who is snoring in there?” said the boy, quickly.</p> - -<p>“One of your sister’s bits of driftwood. I’ve got -to haul this one into port.”</p> - -<p>“I wish Berty would look out for number one, and -let number two, and three, and four, and five, take -care of themselves,” said the lad, irritably. Then -he suddenly recollected himself. “I suppose I am -a brute, but I do hate dirty people. Berty is an -angel compared with me.”</p> - -<p>“Hello,” said Tom, opening the door and scratching -a match to light the candle in a lantern hanging -near him.</p> - -<p>There was no response. Tom held the lantern -and pushed the sleeping man with his foot.</p> - -<p>“Here, you—wake up.”</p> - -<p>The man rolled over, blinking at them in the -light. “Hello, comrade, what you want?”</p> - -<p>“Get up,” said Tom, commandingly.</p> - -<p>“What for?” asked the sleeper, yawningly.</p> - -<p>“To get out of this. I’ll find you another sleeping-place.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, come, comrade,” said the man, remonstratingly, -“this is cruelty to animals. I was having -the sleep of my life—like drugged sleep—takes me -back to my boyhood. Move on, and let me begin -again. Your diamonds are safe to-night. I’ve had -a first-class supper, and I’m having a first-class -sleep. I wouldn’t get up to finger the jewels of -the Emperor of Russia.”</p> - -<p>“Get up,” said Tom, inexorably.</p> - -<p>“Let him stay,” said Bonny. “I’m going to -be here all night. If he gets dangerous, I’ll take -the poker.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you’re going to stay all night,” remarked -Tom. “Very good, then. I’ll come early in the -morning and get him out of this.”</p> - -<p>“Talking about me, gentlemen?” asked the man, -sleepily.</p> - -<p>Tom and Bonny stared at him.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t done anything bad yet,” said the -tramp, meekly, “unless I may have corrupted a -few of those guinea-pigs by using bad language. -They’re the most inquisitive creatures I ever saw. -Stuck their noses in my food, and most took it away -from me.”</p> - -<p>“Who are you?” asked Bonny, abruptly.</p> - -<p>“A poor, broken-down sailor, sir,” whined the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -man. “Turned out of his vessel the first day in -port, because he had a little weakness of the heart.”</p> - -<p>“I heard you were a doctor,” interposed Tom.</p> - -<p>“So I was this afternoon, sir. That nice young -lady said I looked like a sailor, so I thought I’d -be one to please her.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a first-class liar, anyway,” said Tom.</p> - -<p>The man rolled over on his back and sleepily -blinked at him. “That I am, sir. If you’d hear -the different stories I tell to charitable ladies, you’d -fall down in a fit. They’re too funny for words.”</p> - -<p>Bonny was staring at him with wide-open eyes. -He had never spoken to a tramp before in his life. -If he saw one on the right side of the street, he -immediately crossed to the left.</p> - -<p>“I say,” he began, with a fastidious curl of his -lip, “it must be mighty queer not to know in the -morning where you are going to lay your head at -night. Queer, and mighty uncomfortable.”</p> - -<p>“So it is, young man, till you get used to it,” -responded the tramp, amiably.</p> - -<p>Bonny’s countenance expressed the utmost disdain, -and suddenly the tramp raised himself on an -elbow. “Can you think of me, my fine lad, young -and clean and as good-looking as you are?”</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t,” said Bonny, frankly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Fussy about my tailor,” continued the man. -“Good heavens, just think of it—I, bothering -about the cut of my coat. But I was, and I did, -and I’ve come down to be a trailer over the roads.”</p> - -<p>“How can persons take a jump like that?” said -the boy, musingly.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t a jump,” pursued the tramp, lazily, “it’s -a slide. You move a few inches each day. I’m -something of a philosopher, and I often look back -on my career. I’ve lots of time to think, as you -may imagine. Now, gentlemen, you wouldn’t -imagine where my slide into trampdom began.”</p> - -<p>“You didn’t start from the gutter, anyway,” -remarked Bonny, “for you talk like a gentleman.”</p> - -<p>“You’re right, young man. I can talk the slang -of the road. I’ve been broken to it, but I won’t -waste it on you, for you wouldn’t understand it—well, -my first push downward was given me by my -mother.”</p> - -<p>“Your mother?” echoed Bonny, in disgust.</p> - -<p>“Yes, young sir—one of the best women that -ever lived. She held me out to the devil, when she allowed -me to kick the cat because it had made me -fall.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense,” said Bonny, sharply.</p> - -<p>“Not nonsense, but sound sense, sir. That was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -the beginning of the lack of self-restraint. Did I -want her best cap to tear to ribbons? I got it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, get out,” interposed Tom, crossly. “You -needn’t tell us that all spoiled children go to the -bad.”</p> - -<p>“Good London, no,” said the man, with a laugh. -“Look at our millionaires. Could you find on the -face of the earth a more absolute autocrat, a more -heartless, up-to-date, determined-to-have-his-own-way, -let-the-rest-of-you-go-to-the-dogs kind of a -man, than the average American millionaire?”</p> - -<p>The two young men eyed each other, and Bonny -murmured, “You are an extremist.”</p> - -<p>“It began away back,” continued the tramp, now -thoroughly roused from his sleepy condition. -“When our forefathers came from England, they -brought that ugly, I’m-going-to-have-my-own-way -spirit with them. Talk about the severity of England -precipitating the Revolution. If they hadn’t -made a revolution for us, we’d made one to order. -Did you ever read about the levelling spirit of those -days? I tell you this American nation is queer—it’s -harder for a real, true blue son of the soil to -keep straight, than it is for the son of any other -nation under the heaven. We lack self-restraint.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -We’ll go to the bad if we want to, and none shall -hinder us.”</p> - -<p>The tramp paused for a minute in his semi-lazy, -semi-animated discourse, and Tom, feeling that -some remark was expected from him, said feebly, -“You’re quite a moralizer.”</p> - -<p>The tramp did not hear him. “I tell you,” he -said, extending a dirty hand, “we’re the biggest, -grandest, foolishest people on earth. We’re the -nation of the future. We’ll govern the earth, and -at the same time fail in governing ourselves. Look -at the lynchings we have. The United States has -the highest murder rate of any civilized country in -the world. The average American will be a decent, -moral, pay-his-bills sort of man, and yet he’ll have -more tolerance for personal violence than a Turk -has.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a queer man,” said Bonny, musingly.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to have more law and order,” pursued -the tramp. “The mothers have got to make -their little ones eat their mush, or porridge, as they -say over the line in Canada—not fling it out the -window to the dogs. I tell you that’s where it begins, -just where every good and bad thing begins—in -the cradle. The average mother has too much -respect for the squallings of her Young America.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -Let her spank him once in awhile, and keep him -out of sight of the eagle.”</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose,” said Bonny, solemnly, “that -if you had been well spanked you would not be -lying here?”</p> - -<p>“Suppose,” repeated the tramp, leaning back, “I -don’t suppose anything about it. I know it. If -my mother and father had made me mind them, -and kept me in nights, and trained me into decent, -self-respecting manhood, I’d be standing beside you -to-night, young sirs, beside you—beyond you—for -I guess from your bearing you are only young -men of average ability, and I tell you I was a power, -when I’d study and let the drink alone.”</p> - -<p>“You must have had a strange mother,” remarked -Bonny.</p> - -<p>The tramp suddenly raised himself again, and his -sunburnt face grew redder. “For the love of -Heaven,” he said, extending one ragged arm, “don’t -say a word against her. The thought of her is the -only thing that moves me. She loved me, and, unclean, -characterless wretch that I am, she would -love me yet if she were still alive.”</p> - -<p>The man’s head sank on his arm, but not quickly -enough. Tom and Bonny had both seen glistening -in his eyes, not the one jewel they were jestingly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -in search of, but two priceless jewels that were not -pearls, but diamonds.</p> - -<p>“Come on, Bonny,” said Tom, roughly, as he -drew him from the shed.</p> - -<p>“Tom,” remarked Bonny, softly, as they went -slowly up-stairs, “Berty wants you to do something -for that fellow, doesn’t she?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think it is of any use?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to try?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>Bonny made no further remarks until some time -later, when they were standing on the front door-step, -then he asked, thoughtfully, “What does -Berty want you to do, Tom?”</p> - -<p>“Start a cat-farm.”</p> - -<p>“A cat-farm! What kind of cats?”</p> - -<p>“Gutter cats, back yard cats, disreputable cats, -I should guess from the character of the superintendent -she has chosen,” replied Tom, gruffly.</p> - -<p>“The superintendent being the tramp,” said -Bonny, slyly.</p> - -<p>“There’s no one else in question,” responded -Tom.</p> - -<p>“I think you are wrong about the nature of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -beasts,” continued Bonny. “I believe Berty means -pet cats—Angoras, and so on.”</p> - -<p>“What sort are they?”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to say you haven’t noticed them? -It’s the latest cry among the women—‘Give me a -long-haired cat!’ Mrs. Darley-James has a beauty—snow-white -with blue eyes.”</p> - -<p>“All nonsense—these society women don’t know -what to do to kill time.”</p> - -<p>“They’re not all society women that have them. -Old Mrs. McCarthy has a pair of dandies—and -I find that the women who take up cat-culture are -more kind to back yard tabbies.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe you’re right, Bonny. I don’t call round -on these women as you do.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Bonny, apologetically, “I don’t see -any harm in putting on your best coat and hat, -and doing a woman who has invited you to her house -the compliment of calling on her day.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dressing up,” said Tom, “is such a nuisance.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t call on many that you’d be bothered -with calling on without it. Sydney Gray tried calling -on Margaretta on her day in a bicycle suit. He -had ridden fifty miles, and was hot and dusty and -perspiring. He had the impudence to go into Margaretta’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -spick and span rooms and ask for a cup -of tea. She was so sweet to him that he came -away hugging himself—but he never got asked -there again, and every once in awhile he says to -some one, ‘Queer, isn’t it, that Mrs. Stanisfield -gives me the go-by. I don’t know what I’ve done -to offend her.’”</p> - -<p>“Suppose we come back to Berty,” observed -Tom. “If all the women here have cats, what -does she want to start a farm for?”</p> - -<p>“The women aren’t all supplied. The demand -is increasing, and many would buy here that -wouldn’t send away for one. Berty is more shrewd -than you think. These cats sell for five and six -dollars apiece at the least, and some are as high -as twenty. I shouldn’t a bit wonder if it would -turn out to be a good business speculation.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, you just meet some of the fellows -in my office to-morrow evening and arrange for a -house and lot for this man who is to boss the cats,” -said Tom, dryly.</p> - -<p>“All right, I’ll come—maybe Roger will, too.”</p> - -<p>“Good night,” said Tom, “I’m off.”</p> - -<p>“Good night,” returned Bonny, laconically, and, -standing with his hands thrust in his pockets, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -was looking down the street, when Tom suddenly -turned back.</p> - -<p>“I say, Bonny, your grandmother must have a -good history of the Revolution.”</p> - -<p>“She has two or three.”</p> - -<p>“Ask her to lend me one, will you? I half forget -what I learned in school.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; I’ll bring it to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Tom really went this time, and as he quickly -disappeared from sight, Bonny, from his station on -the door-step, kept muttering to himself, “Slipping -through life, slipping through life. How easy to -get on that greased path!”</p> - -<p>“What are you saying to yourself?” asked a -brisk voice.</p> - -<p>Bonny, turning sharply, found Berty beside him.</p> - -<p>“Nothing much—only that I was hungry. Let’s -see what’s in the pantry.”</p> - -<p>“Bonny, if I show you where there is a pie, the -most beautiful pumpkin pie you ever saw, will you -help me with my tramp?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll do it for half a pie,” said Bonny, generously. -“Come on, you young monkey.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.<br /> -<span class="smaller">AT THE BOARD OF WATER-WORKS</span></h2> - -<p>“There she comes,” murmured one of the clerks, -in the board of water-works offices.</p> - -<p>“Who?” murmured the other clerk.</p> - -<p>“The beggar-girl,” responded the first one.</p> - -<p>The chairman of the board heard them, and -looked fearfully over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Roger, Tom, and Bonny knew that Berty’s frequent -visits to the city hall had gained for her a -nickname, occasioned by the character of her visits. -She was always urging the claims of the poor, hence -she was classed with them. They carefully shielded -from her the knowledge of this nickname, and supposed -she knew nothing of it.</p> - -<p>However, she did know. Some whisper of the -“beggar-girl” had reached her ears, and was a -matter of chagrin to her.</p> - -<p>The chairman of the board of water-works knew -all about her. He knew that if the clerks had seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -her passing along the glass corridor outside his -office she was probably coming to him; she probably -wanted something.</p> - -<p>One clerk was his nephew, the other his second -cousin, so he was on terms of familiarity with them, -and at the present moment was in the outer office -discussing with them the chances that a certain bill -had of passing the city council.</p> - -<p>The door of his own inner office stood open, but -of what use to take refuge there? If the beggar-girl -really wished to see a man on business, she -always waited for him.</p> - -<p>He looked despairingly about him. A high, old-fashioned -desk stood near. Under it was a foot-stool. -As a knock came at the door, he ungracefully -folded his long, lank limbs, quickly sat down on -the foot-stool, and said, in a low voice, “I’ve gone -to Portland for a week!” Then he fearfully awaited -results.</p> - -<p>Berty, followed by her friend, the mongrel pup, -walked into the room and asked if Mr. Morehall -were in.</p> - -<p>“No,” said the second cousin, gravely, “he has -been called to Portland on important business—will -be gone a week.”</p> - -<p>The girl’s face clouded; she stood leaning against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -the railing that separated the room into two parts, -and, as she did so, her weight pushed open the gate -that the second cousin had just hastily swung together.</p> - -<p>The pup ran in, and being of quick wits and an -inquiring disposition wondered what that man was -doing curled up in a corner, instead of being on -his feet like the other two.</p> - -<p>He began to sniff round him. Perhaps there -was something peculiar about him. No—he -seemed to be like other men, a trifle anxious and -red-faced, perhaps, but still normal. He gave a -playful bark, as if to say, “I dare you to come out.”</p> - -<p>Berty heard him, and turned swiftly. “Mugwump, -if you worry another rat, I’ll never give you -a walk again.”</p> - -<p>The two young men were in a quandary. Whether -to go to the assistance of their chief, or whether to -affect indifference, was vexing their clerical souls. -Berty, more quick-witted than the pup, was prompt -to notice their peculiar expressions.</p> - -<p>“Please don’t let him worry a rat,” she said, -beseechingly, “it makes him so cruel. Rats have -a dreadfully hard time! Oh, please call him off. -He’s got it in his mouth. I hear him.”</p> - -<p>The chairman, in his perplexity, had thrown him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -a glove from his pocket, and Mugwump was mouthing -and chewing it deliciously.</p> - -<p>“He’ll kill it,” exclaimed Berty. “Oh! let me -in,” and before the confused clerks could prevent -her, she had pushed open the gate and had followed -the dog.</p> - -<p>Her face was a study. Low down on the floor -sat the deceiving chairman, with Mugwump prancing -before him.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Morehall!” she exclaimed; then she stopped.</p> - -<p>The chairman, with a flaming face, unfolded his -long limbs, crawled out of his retreat, stumbled -over the dog, partly fell, recovered himself, and -finally got to his feet. After throwing an indignant -glance at the two clerks, who were in a pitiable state -of restrained merriment, he concentrated his attention -on Berty. She blushed, too, as she divined -what had been the case.</p> - -<p>“You were trying to hide from me,” she said, -after a long pause.</p> - -<p>He could not deny it, though he stammered something -about it being a warm day, and the lower part -of the desk being a cool retreat.</p> - -<p>“Now you are telling me a story,” said Berty, -sternly, “you, the chairman of the board of water-works—a -city official, afraid of me!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - -<p>He said nothing, and she went on, wistfully, -“Am I, then, so terrible? Do you men all hate the -beggar-girl?”</p> - -<p>Her three hearers immediately fell into a state -of shamefacedness.</p> - -<p>“What have I done?” she continued, sadly, -“what have I done to be so disliked?”</p> - -<p>No one answered her, and she went on. “When -I lived on Grand Avenue and thought only of -amusing myself, everybody liked me. Why is it -that every one hates me since I went to River Street -and am trying to make myself useful?”</p> - -<p>To Mr. Morehall’s dismay, her lip was quivering, -and big tears began to roll down her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Come in here,” he said, leading the way to -his own room.</p> - -<p>Berty sat down in an armchair and quietly continued -to cry, while Mr. Morehall eyed her with -distress and increasing anxiety.</p> - -<p>“Have a glass of water, do,” said the tall man, -seizing a pitcher near him, “and don’t feel bad. -Upon my word, I didn’t know what I was doing.”</p> - -<p>“It—it isn’t you only,” gasped Berty. “It is -everybody. Please excuse me, but I am tired and -worried this morning. I’ve had some sick friends -on our street—that’s what I came to see you about.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -The autumn is starting in so dry that we are almost -choked with dust. River Street hasn’t been watered -for a week.”</p> - -<p>“Hasn’t it?” said Mr. Morehall, slowly.</p> - -<p>“Grand Avenue was always watered,” continued -Berty, as she rested her head against the back of -the chair, “even soaked. I never thought about -dust in summer. Why is River Street neglected?”</p> - -<p>“River Street citizens don’t pay such heavy -taxes,” suggested Mr. Morehall.</p> - -<p>“But they pay all they can, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Poor people are shiftless,” said the official, with -a shrug of his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“That’s what everybody says,” exclaimed Berty, -despairingly. “All well-to-do people that I talk -to dismiss the poorer classes in that way. But poor -people aren’t all shiftless.”</p> - -<p>“Not all, perhaps,” said Mr. Morehall, amiably, -and with inward rejoicing that Berty was wiping -away her tears.</p> - -<p>“And there must be poor people,” continued -Berty. “We can’t all be rich. It’s impossible. -Who would work for the prosperous, if all were -independent?”</p> - -<p>“What I meant,” replied Mr. Morehall, “was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -that poverty is very often the result of a lack of -personal exertion on the part of the poor.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, but I am not just now advocating the -cause of the helpless. It is rather the claims of the -respectable poor. I know heaps of people on River -Street who have only a pittance to live on. Their -parents had only the same. They are not dissipated. -They work hard and pay what they can to the city. -My argument is that these poorer children of the -city should be especially well looked after, just as -in a family the delicate or afflicted child is the most -petted.”</p> - -<p>“Now you are aiming at the ideal,” said Mr. -Morehall, with an uneasy smile.</p> - -<p>“No, sir, not the ideal, but the practical. Some -one was telling me what the city has to spend for -prisons, hospitals, and our asylums. Why, it would -pay us a thousandfold better to take care of these -people before they get to be a burden on us.”</p> - -<p>“They are so abominably ungrateful,” muttered -Mr. Morehall.</p> - -<p>“And so would I be,” exclaimed Berty, “if I -were always having charity flung in my face. Let -the city give the poor their rights. They ask no -more. It’s no disgrace to be born poor. But if I am -a working girl in River Street I must lodge in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -worm-eaten, rat-haunted tenement-house. I must -rise from an unwholesome bed, and put on badly -made, uncomfortable clothing. I must eat a scanty -breakfast, and go to toil in a stuffy, unventilated -room. I must come home at night to my dusty, unwatered -street, and then I must, before I go to sleep, -kneel down and thank God that I live in a Christian -country—why, it’s enough to make one a pagan -just to think of it! I don’t see why the poor don’t -organize. They are meeker than I would be. It -makes me wild to see River Street neglected. If any -street is left unwatered, it ought to be Grand Avenue -rather than River Street, for the rich have gardens -and can go to the country, while the poor must live -on the street in summer.”</p> - -<p>“Now you are oppressing the rich,” said Mr. -Morehall, promptly.</p> - -<p>“Heaven forbid,” said the girl, wearily. “Equal -rights for all—”</p> - -<p>“The poor have a good friend in you,” he said, -with reluctant admiration.</p> - -<p>“Will you have our street watered, sir?” asked -Berty, rising.</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to. I’ll have to ask for an appropriation. -We’ll want another cart and horse, and an extra -man.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That means delay,” said Berty, despairingly, -“and in the meantime the dust blows about in -clouds. It enters the windows and settles on the -tables and chairs. It chokes the lungs of consumptives -struggling for breath, and little babies gasping -for air. Then the mothers put the windows down, -and they breathe over and over again the polluted -air. And this is stifling autumn weather—come -spend a day in River Street, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Gravely,” said the man, with a certain -frank bluntness and good-will, “excuse my plain -speaking, but you enthuse too much. Those poor -people aren’t made of the same stuff that you are. -They don’t suffer to the extent that you do under -the same conditions.”</p> - -<p>Berty was about to leave the room, but she turned -round on him with flashing eyes. “Do you mean to -say that God has created two sets of creatures—one -set with fine nerves and sensitive bodies, the other -callous and unsensitive to comfort or discomfort?”</p> - -<p>“That’s about the measure of it.”</p> - -<p>“And where would you draw the line?” she -asked, with assumed calmness.</p> - -<p>Mr. Morehall did not know Berty well. His -family, though one of the highest respectability, -moved in another circle. If he had had the pleasure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -of an intimate acquaintance with the energetic young -person before him, he would have known that her -compressed lips, her half-closed eyes, and her tense -forehead betokened an overwhelming and suppressed -anger.</p> - -<p>Therefore, unaware of the drawn sword suspended -over his head, he went on, unsuspiciously. “To tell -the truth, I think there’s a lot in heredity. Now -there are some families you never find scrabbling -round for something to eat. I never heard of a poor -Gravely, or a Travers, or a Stanisfield, or a Morehall. -It’s in the blood to get on. No one can down -you.”</p> - -<p>He paused consequentially, and Berty, biting her -lip, waited for him to go on. However, happening -to look at the clock, he stopped short. This talk -was interesting, but he would like to get back to -business.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Morehall,” said Berty, in a still voice, “do -you know that there are a legion of poor Traverses -up in the northern part of the State, that Grandma -used to send boxes to every month?”</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, in surprise, “I never heard that.”</p> - -<p>“And old Mr. Stanisfield took two of his own -cousins out of the poorhouse three years ago, and -supports them?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You astonish me,” murmured the confused -man.</p> - -<p>“And, moreover,” continued Berty, with a new -gleam in her eye, “since you have been frank with -me, I may be frank with you, and say that two of -the people for whom I want River Street made -sweet and wholesome are old Abner Morehall and -his wife, from Cloverdale.”</p> - -<p>“Abner Morehall!” exclaimed the man, incredulously.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Abner Morehall, your own uncle.”</p> - -<p>“But—I didn’t know—why didn’t he tell?—” -stammered Mr. Morehall, confusedly.</p> - -<p>“Yes—why do you suppose he didn’t tell you?” -said Berty. “That’s the blood—the better blood -than that of paupers. He was ashamed to have you -know of his misfortune.”</p> - -<p>“He thought I wouldn’t help him,” burst out -her companion, and, with shame and chagrin in his -eyes, he sat down at the table and put his hand to -his head. “It’s those confounded notes,” he said, -at last. “I often told him he ought never to put -his name to paper.”</p> - -<p>“It was his generosity and kindness—his implicit -faith in his fellow men,” continued Berty, -warmly; “and now, Mr. Morehall, can you say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -that ‘blood,’ or shrewdness, or anything else, will -always keep misfortune from a certain family? Who -is to assure you that your great-great-grandchildren -will not be living on River Street?”</p> - -<p>No one could assure the disturbed man that this -contingency might not arise, and, lifting his head, -he gazed at Berty as if she were some bird of ill-omen.</p> - -<p>“You will come to see your relatives, I suppose?” -she murmured.</p> - -<p>He made an assenting gesture with his hand.</p> - -<p>“They are two dear old people. They give tone -to the street—and you will send a watering-cart -this afternoon?”</p> - -<p>He made another assenting gesture. He did not -care to talk, and Berty slipped quietly from his -office.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.<br /> -<span class="smaller">SELINA’S WEDDING</span></h2> - -<p>Selina Everest and the Mayor were married.</p> - -<p>On one of the loveliest of autumn mornings, the -somewhat mature bride had been united in the holy -bonds of matrimony to the somewhat mature bridegroom, -and now, in the old family mansion of the -Everests, they were receiving the congratulations -of their numerous friends. Selina had had a church -wedding. That she insisted on, greatly to the distress -and confusion of her modest husband. He -had walked up the aisle of the church as if to his -hanging. One minute he went from red to purple, -from purple to violent perspiration, the next he -became as if wrapped in an ice-cold sheet, and not -until then could he recover himself.</p> - -<p>But now it was all over. This congratulatory -business was nothing compared to the agonizing -experience of being in a crowded church, the shrinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -target for hundreds of criticizing, shining, awful -eyes.</p> - -<p>Yes, he was in an ecstasy to think the ordeal was -over. Selina never would have made him go through -it, if she had had the faintest conception of what -his sufferings would be.</p> - -<p>She had enjoyed it. All women enjoy that sort -of thing. They are not awkward. How can they -be, with their sweeping veils and trailing robes? -He had felt like a fence-post, a rail—anything -stiff, and ugly, and uncomfortable, and in his heart -of hearts he wondered that all those well-dressed -men and women had not burst into shouts of laughter -at him.</p> - -<p>Well, it was over—over, thank fortune. He -never had been so glad to escape from anything in -his life, as he had been to get out of the church and -away from the crowd of people. That alone made -him blissfully happy, and then, in addition, he had -Selina.</p> - -<p>He looked at her, and mechanically stretched out -a hand to an advancing guest. Selina was his now. -He not only was out of that church and never would -have to go into it again for such a purpose as he -had gone this morning, but Selina Everest was Mrs. -Peter Jimson.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> - -<p>He smiled an alarming smile at her, a smile so -extraordinarily comprehensive, that she hurriedly -asked under her breath if he were ill.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said, and, in so saying, clasped the hand -of the advancing friend with such vigour, that the -unhappy man retreated swiftly with his unspoken -congratulations on his lips.</p> - -<p>“I’m not ill,” he muttered. “I’m only a little -flustered, Selina.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s Mrs. Short,” she said, hastily, “be nice -to her. She’s a particular friend of mine.”</p> - -<p>“A fine day, ma’am,” murmured the Mayor; -“yes, the crops seem good—ought to have rain, -though.”</p> - -<p>Over by a French window opening on the lawn, -Berty and Tom were watching the people and making -comments.</p> - -<p>“Always get mixed up about a bride and groom,” -volunteered Tom. “Always want to congratulate -her, and hope that he’ll be happy. It’s the other -way, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” murmured Berty. “Oh, isn’t it -a dream to think that they’re both happy?”</p> - -<p>“Makes one feel like getting married oneself,” -said Tom.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, doesn’t it? A wedding unsettles me. All -the rest of the day I wish I were a bride.”</p> - -<p>“Do you?” exclaimed Tom, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and then the next day I think what a goose -I am. Being married means slavery to some man. -You don’t have your own way at all.”</p> - -<p>“Men never being slaves to their wives,” remarked -Tom.</p> - -<p>“Men are by nature lordly, overbearing, proud-spirited, -self-willed, tyrannical and provoking,” said -Berty, sweepingly.</p> - -<p>But Tom’s thoughts had been diverted. “Say, -Berty, where do those Tomkins girls get money -to dress that way? They’re visions in those shining -green things.”</p> - -<p>“They spend too much of their father’s money -on dress,” replied Berty, severely. “Those satins -came from Paris. They are an exquisite new shade -of green. I forget what you call it.”</p> - -<p>“I guess old Tomkins is the slave there,” said -Tom; then, to avoid controversy, he went on, hastily, -“You look stunning in that white gown.”</p> - -<p>“I thought perhaps Selina would want me for a -bridesmaid,” said Berty, plaintively, “but she -didn’t.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Too young and foolish,” said Tom, promptly; -“but, I say, Berty, where did you get the gown?”</p> - -<p>“Margaretta gave it to me. I was going to wear -muslin, but she said I shouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>“What is it anyway?” said Tom, putting out a -cautious finger to touch the soft folds.</p> - -<p>“It’s silk, and if you knew how uncomfortable I -am in it, you would pity me.”</p> - -<p>“Uncomfortable! You look as cool as a cucumber.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not. I wish I had on a serge skirt and a -shirt-waist.”</p> - -<p>“Let me get you something to eat,” he said, -consolingly. “That going to church and standing -about here are tiresome.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, do,” said Berty. “I hadn’t any breakfast, -I was in such a hurry to get ready.”</p> - -<p>“Here are sandwiches and coffee to start with,” -he said, presently coming back.</p> - -<p>“Thank you—I am so glad Selina didn’t have -a sit-down luncheon. This is much nicer.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it! You see, she didn’t want speeches. -On an occasion like this, the Mayor would be so apt -to get wound up that he would keep us here till -midnight.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> - -<p>Berty laughed. “And they would have lost their -train.”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t going to be any train,” said Tom, -mysteriously.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t they going to New York?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“To Canada?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“To Europe?”</p> - -<p>“No—Jimson says he isn’t going to frizzle and -fry in big cities in this lovely weather, unless Selina -absolutely commands, and she doesn’t command, so -he’s going to row her up the river to the Cloverdale -Inn.”</p> - -<p>Berty put down her cup and saucer and began to -laugh.</p> - -<p>“Where are those sandwiches?” asked Tom, trying -to peer round the cup.</p> - -<p>“Gone,” said Berty, meekly.</p> - -<p>He brought her a new supply, then came cake, -jellies, sweets, and fruit in rapid succession.</p> - -<p>Berty, standing partly behind a curtain by the -open window, kept her admirer so busy that at last -he partly rebelled.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus6"> -<img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="460" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">“‘A RIVER STREET DELEGATION,’ SAID TOM”</p> -</div> - -<p>“Look here, Berty,” he remarked, firmly, “I -don’t want to be suspicious, but it’s utterly impossible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -for a girl of your weight and education -to dispose of so much provender at a single standing. -You’re up to some tricks with it. Have you -got some River Street rats with you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, smilingly. “Hush, don’t tell,” -and, slightly pulling aside the curtain, she showed -him four little heads in a clump of syringa bushes -outside.</p> - -<p>“Newsboy Jim, and Johnny-Boy, and the two -girls, Biddy Malone and Glorymaroo, as we call -her, from her favourite exclamation,” continued -Berty; “they wanted to see something of the -Mayor’s marriage, and I let them come. I’ve been -handing out ‘ruffreshments’ to them. Don’t scold -them, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“Come right in, youngsters,” said the young -man, heartily. “I’m sure Mr. Jimson is your Mayor -as well as ours.”</p> - -<p>Without the slightest hesitation, the four grinning -children stepped in, and, marshalled by Tom, trotted -across the long room to the alcove where Selina -and the Mayor stood.</p> - -<p>“A River Street delegation,” said Tom, presenting -them, “come to offer congratulations to the -chief executive officer of the city.”</p> - -<p>Selina shook hands with them. The Mayor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -smiled broadly, patted their heads, and the other -guests, who had been bidden, without an exception -kindly surveyed the unbidden, yet welcome ones.</p> - -<p>The introduction over, Tom examined them from -head to foot. The little rats were in their Sunday -clothes. Their heads were sleek and wet from -recent washing. There was a strong smell of cheap -soap about them.</p> - -<p>“This way, gentlemen and ladies,” he said, and -he led them back to a sofa near Berty. “Sit down -there in a row. Here are some foot-stools for you.</p> - -<p>“Waiter,” and he hailed a passing black-coated -man, “bring the best you have to these children, -and, children, you eat as you never ate before.”</p> - -<p>Berty stood silently watching him. “Tom Everest,” -she remarked, slowly, “I have two words to -say to you.”</p> - -<p>“I’d rather have one,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“Hush,” she said, severely, “and listen. The -two words are, ‘Thank you.’”</p> - -<p>“You’re welcome,” returned Tom, “or, as the -French say, ‘There is nothing of what—’ Hello, -Bonny, what’s the joke?”</p> - -<p>Bonny, in a gentlemanly convulsion of laughter, -was turning his face toward the wall in their direction.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> - -<p>The lad stopped, and while Berty and Tom stood -silently admiring his almost beautiful face, which -was just now as rosy as a girl’s, he grew composed.</p> - -<p>“I call you to witness, friends,” he said, slightly -upraising one hand, “that I never in my life before -have laughed at dear Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve been cross with her,” said Berty.</p> - -<p>“Cross, yes, once or twice, but Grandma isn’t a -person to laugh at, is she?”</p> - -<p>“Well, not exactly,” said Berty. “I never saw -anything funny about Grandma.”</p> - -<p>“Well, she nearly finished me just now,” said -Bonny. “I was standing near Selina, when gradually -there came a break in the hand-shaking. The -guests’ thoughts began to run luncheon-ward. -Grandma was close to the bridal pair, and suddenly -Selina turned and said, impulsively, ‘Mrs. Travers, -you have had a great deal of experience. I want -you to give me a motto to start out with on my -wedding-day. Something that will be valuable to -me, and will make me think of you whenever I repeat -it.’ The joke of it was that Grandma didn’t want -to give her a motto. She didn’t seem to have anything -handy, but Selina insisted. At last Grandma -said, in a shot-gun way, ‘Don’t nag!’ then she -moved off.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Selina stared at the Mayor, and the Mayor -stared over her shoulder at me. She didn’t see -anything funny in it. We did. At last she said, -meekly, ‘Peter, do you think I am inclined to nag?’</p> - -<p>“He just rushed out a sentence at her—‘Upon -my life I don’t!’</p> - -<p>“‘Do you, Bonny?’ she asked, turning suddenly -round on me.</p> - -<p>“‘No, Selina, I don’t,’ I told her, but I couldn’t -help laughing.</p> - -<p>“Jimson grinned from ear to ear, and I started -off, leaving Selina asking him what he was so -amused about.”</p> - -<p>Tom began to chuckle, but Berty said, “Well—I -don’t see anything to laugh at.”</p> - -<p>“She doesn’t see anything to laugh at,” repeated -Bonny, idiotically, then he drew Tom out on the -lawn where she could hear their bursts of laughter.</p> - -<p>Presently the Mayor came strolling over to the -low chair where Berty sat watching her little River -Street friends.</p> - -<p>“Is it all right for me to leave Selina for a few -minutes?” he asked, in an anxious voice. “I -can’t ask her, for she is talking to some one. I -never was married before, and don’t know how to -act.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Berty, carelessly. “It’s an exploded -fancy that a man must always stay close to -his wife in general society. At home you should -be tied to your wife’s apron-strings, but in society -she takes it off.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t wear aprons in your set,” said the -Mayor, quickly. “I’ve found that out. You leave -them to the maids.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t like aprons,” said Berty. “If I want -to protect my dress, I tuck a towel under my belt.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve odd ways, and I feel queer in your set,” -pursued the Mayor, in a meditative voice. “Maybe -I’ll get used to you, but I don’t know. Now I used -to think that the upper crust of this city would be -mighty formal, but you don’t even say, ‘Yes, -ma’am,’ and ‘No, ma’am,’ to each other. You’re -as off-hand as street urchins, and downright saucy -sometimes I’d say.”</p> - -<p>“We’re not as formal as our grandparents were,” -said Berty, musingly—“there’s everything in environment. -We’re nothing but a lot of monkeys, -anyway—see those children how nicely they are -eating. If they were on River Street, they would -drop those knives and forks, and have those chicken -bones in their fingers in a jiffy.”</p> - -<p>“Do you ever feel inclined to eat with your fingers?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -asked Mr. Jimson, in a low voice, and -looking fearfully about him.</p> - -<p>“Often, and I do,” said Berty, promptly. “Always -at picnics.”</p> - -<p>“My father hated fuss and feathers,” remarked -Mr. Jimson. “He always went round the house -with his hat on, and in his shirt-sleeves.”</p> - -<p>“The men on River Street do that,” replied Berty. -“I can see some reason for the shirt-sleeves, but -not for the hat.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Jimson,” said Walter Everest, suddenly -coming up to him. “It’s time to go. Selina’s up-stairs -changing her gown, the two suit-cases are in -the hall.”</p> - -<p>Ten minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Everest, with -their children and their friends, stood on the front -steps calling parting good wishes after Selina and -the Mayor.</p> - -<p>There were many speculations as to their destination, -the greater part of the guests imagining -a far-away trip, as Berty had done.</p> - -<p>“You’re all wrong,” observed Tom. “My boat -is at Mrs. Travers’s wharf for them to go to Cloverdale, -and it’s cram jam full of flowers with bows -of white ribbon on each oar.”</p> - -<p>Roger Stanisfield burst out laughing. “You’re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -sold, Tom, my boy, do you suppose the Mayor -would trust a joker like you? He has my boat.”</p> - -<p>Bonny was in an ecstasy. “Get out, you two -old fellows,” he exclaimed, slapping his brother-in-law -on the shoulder. “Mr. Jimson is going to row -his beloved up the river in my boat.”</p> - -<p>“No, he isn’t,” said Walter Everest. “He’s got -mine.”</p> - -<p>“I believe he’s fooled us all,” said Tom, ruefully. -“Did you have any flowers in your boat, -Stanisfield?”</p> - -<p>“Margaretta put a little bit of rice in,” said -Roger, “just a handful, where no one would see it -but themselves.”</p> - -<p>“Did you trim your boat, Bonny?” asked Roger.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said the boy, “with old shoes. I had -a dandy pair chained to the seat, so they couldn’t -be detached, unless Jimson had a hatchet along.”</p> - -<p>“Whose boat has he got, for the land’s sake?” -inquired Walter Everest. “He’s asked us all, and -we’ve all pledged secrecy and good conduct, and -we’ve all broken our word and decorated.”</p> - -<p>“He’s got nobody’s boat, my friends,” said old -Mr. Everest, who was shaking with silent laughter. -“Don’t you know Peter Jimson better than to imagine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -that he would exert himself by rowing up -the river this warm day?”</p> - -<p>“Well, what are his means of locomotion?” -asked Tom.</p> - -<p>“My one-hoss shay, my son. It was waiting -round the corner of the road for him.”</p> - -<p>“I say,” ejaculated Tom, “let’s make up a party -to call on them to-morrow. We can take the -flowers and other trifles.”</p> - -<p>“Hurrah,” said Bonny. “I’ll go ask Margaretta -to get up a lunch.”</p> - -<p>“Will you go to-morrow, Berty?” asked Tom, -seeking her out, and speaking in a low voice.</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>He explained to her.</p> - -<p>“Yes, if you will tell me why you laughed so -much at what Grandma said to Selina.”</p> - -<p>Tom looked puzzled. “It’s mighty hard to explain, -for there isn’t anything hidden in it. It just -sounded kind of apt.”</p> - -<p>“You men think women talk too much.”</p> - -<p>“Some women,” replied Tom, guardedly.</p> - -<p>“You want them to do as the old philosopher -said, ‘Speak honey and look sunny,’ and, ‘The -woman that maketh a good pudding in silence is -better than one that maketh a tart reply.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That’s it exactly,” said Tom, with a beaming -face. “Now will you go to-morrow?”</p> - -<p>“Probably,” said Berty, with an oracular frown. -“If I am not teased too much.”</p> - -<p>“May I come in this evening and see how you -feel about it?”</p> - -<p>“How long do you plan to stay?”</p> - -<p>“Five minutes.”</p> - -<p>“Then you may come,” she said, graciously.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.<br /> -<span class="smaller">TO STRIKE OR NOT TO STRIKE</span></h2> - -<p>When the picnic party reached Cloverdale the day -after the wedding, the Jimsons were not there.</p> - -<p>Where Mr. Jimson concealed his bride and himself -during his brief honeymoon no one ever knew, -for he would not tell, and she could not, being -bound to secrecy.</p> - -<p>No one, that is, no one except Mr. and Mrs. -Everest, and old Mrs. Jimson. To them Selina and -the Mayor confided the news that they had been -in a quiet New Hampshire village, where they could -enjoy delightful drives among hills resplendent in -autumn dress, and have no society forced on them -but that of their hostess—a farmer’s widow.</p> - -<p>As a result of this reposeful life, Mr. Jimson -came home looking ten years younger, and Roger -Stanisfield, meeting him in the street, told him so.</p> - -<p>“I’ve had a quiet time for once in my life,” said -Mr. Jimson. “I ought to have got married long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -ago. I have some one to look after me, and me -only now. How is your wife?”</p> - -<p>“Well, thank you.”</p> - -<p>“And Tom and Berty and Bonny—gracious! I -feel as if I had been away a year instead of three -weeks.”</p> - -<p>A shade passed over Roger’s face. “All well -but Grandma and Berty.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with Grandma?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I am afraid she is breaking up.”</p> - -<p>The Mayor looked serious, then he asked, -abruptly, “And Berty?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, River Street—it’s on her brain and conscience, -and it is wearing her body down.”</p> - -<p>“She’s doing what the rest of us ought to do,” -said Mr. Jimson, shortly, “but, bless me—you -can’t make over a city in a day; and we’re no worse -than others.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose the city council is pretty bad.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jimson shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Lots of boodle—I say, some of those aldermen -ought to be dumped in the river.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to get Berty out of city politics,” -said Mr. Jimson, energetically. “That is no girl’s -work.”</p> - -<p>“She’s going to get out, Margaretta thinks,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -said Roger, turning round and slowly walking down -the main street of the city beside him. “But we’ve -got to let her work out the problem for herself. -You see, she’s no missionary. She is not actuated -by the passion of a life-work. She has come to -live in a new neighbourhood, and is mad with the -people that they don’t try to better themselves, and -that the city doesn’t enable them to do it.”</p> - -<p>“She’ll probably marry Tom Everest, and settle -down to housekeeping.”</p> - -<p>“That will be the upshot of it. I’d be doubtful -about it, though, if the River Street people had -given her a hand in her schemes of reform.”</p> - -<p>“She’s just an ordinary girl,” said the Mayor, -briskly. “She’s no angel to let the River Streeters -walk all over her.”</p> - -<p>“No, she’s no angel,” returned Roger, with a -smile, “but she’s a pretty good sort of a girl.”</p> - -<p>“That she is,” replied Mr. Jimson, heartily. -“Now tell me to a dot just what she has been -doing since I went away. She seemed all right -then.”</p> - -<p>Roger looked amused, then became grave. “Just -after you left, she got worked up on the subject -of child labour. It seems the law is broken here -in Riverport.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How does our State law read?” inquired Mr. -Jimson. “Upon my word, I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>“The statutes of Maine provide that no female -under eighteen years of age, no male under sixteen, -and no woman shall be employed in any manufactory -or mechanical establishment more than ten -hours each day. We also have a compulsory education -law which prohibits children under fifteen -years of either sex working, unless they can produce -certificates that during the year they have attended -school during its sessions.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” said Mr. Jimson.</p> - -<p>“Berty found that some old-clothes man here -had a night-class of children who came and sewed -for him, and did not attend school. She burst into -our house one evening when Margaretta was having -a party, and before we knew where we were she -had swept us all down to River Street. It was a -pitiful enough spectacle. A dozen sleepy youngsters -sitting on backless benches toiling at shirt-making, -round a table lighted by candles. If a child nodded, -the old man tapped her with a long stick. Some -of us broke up that den, but Berty was furious at -the attitude of the parents.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll bet they were mad to have their children’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -earnings cut off,” observed Mr. Jimson. “Poor -people are so avaricious.”</p> - -<p>“They were, and Berty was in a dancing rage. -She got up a paper called <cite>The Cry of the Children</cite>. -You can imagine what her editorials would be. -Then she had the children of River Street walk in -a procession through the city. Nobody laughed at -her, everybody was sympathetic but apathetic. Now -she is in a smouldering temper. Her paper is discontinued, -and I don’t know what she is going to -do.”</p> - -<p>“This is mighty interesting,” said Mr. Jimson, -“but there’s Jones, the lumber merchant from -Greenport. I’ve got to speak to him—excuse me,” -and he crossed the street.</p> - -<p>Roger continued on his way to the iron works, -and two minutes later encountered Berty herself -coming out of a fancy-work store.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” he said, planting himself directly -before her.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” she returned, composedly.</p> - -<p>“What have you been buying?” he asked, looking -curiously at the parcel in her hand.</p> - -<p>“Embroidery.”</p> - -<p>“For some other person, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“No, for myself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Why, I never saw you with a needle in your -hand in my life.”</p> - -<p>“You will now,” she said, calmly.</p> - -<p>“How’s the park getting on, Berty?”</p> - -<p>“Famously; we have electric lights, and the -children can stay till all hours.”</p> - -<p>“Is your helper satisfactory?”</p> - -<p>“She is magnificent—a host in herself. She -can shake a bad boy on one side of the park, and -slap another at the other side, at the same time. -I think I’ll resign my curatorship in favour of her. -She only gets half my pay now.”</p> - -<p>“Why resign, Berty?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I may have other things to do,” she said, -evasively.</p> - -<p>“You’re going to get married.”</p> - -<p>“Not that I know of,” she said, calmly.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” replied Roger; “come oftener to -see us, and be sure to bring your embroidery.”</p> - -<p>Berty gazed after him with a peculiar smile, as -he swung quickly away, then she made her way -to River Street.</p> - -<p>At one of the many corners where lanes led down -to wharves, a group of men stood talking with -their hands in their pockets.</p> - -<p>Berty stopped abruptly. Through the women in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -the street she knew what the chief topic of conversation -among the wharf labourers just now happened -to be.</p> - -<p>“Are you talking of your projected strike?” she -asked, shortly.</p> - -<p>Not one of them spoke, but she knew by their -assenting looks that they were.</p> - -<p>“It’s a lovely time for a strike,” she said, dryly; -“winter just coming on, and your wives and children -needing extra supplies.”</p> - -<p>The men surveyed her indulgently. Not one of -them would discuss their proposed course of action -with her, but not one resented her knowledge of -it, or interference with them.</p> - -<p>“You men don’t suffer,” she said, and as she -spoke she pulled up the collar of her jacket, and -took a few steps down the lane to avoid the chilly -wind. “See, here you stand without overcoats, -and some of you with nothing but woollen shirts -on. It’s the women and children that feel the cold.”</p> - -<p>One of the men thoughtfully turned a piece of -tobacco in his mouth, and said, “That’s true.”</p> - -<p>“What do you strike for, anyway?” she asked.</p> - -<p>One of the stevedores who trundled the drums of -codfish along the wharves for West Indian shipment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -said, amiably, “A strike is usually for higher -wages and shorter hours, miss.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I have no patience with you,” exclaimed -Berty, bursting into sudden wrath. “You are so -unreasonable. You bear all things, suffer like martyrs, -then all at once you flare up and do some -idiotic thing that turns the sympathy of the public -against you. Now in this case, you ought to have -the public with you. I know your wages are small, -your hours too long, but you are not taking the -right way to improve your condition. Because the -Greenport wharf labourers have struck, you think -you must do the same. A strike among you will -mean lawlessness and violence, and you strikers -will blink at this same lawlessness and violence because -you say it is in a good cause. Then we, the -long-suffering public, hate you for your illegality. -There’s the strong arm of the law held equally -over employers and employed. Why don’t you appeal -to that? If you are right, that arm will strike -your oppressors. You can keep in the background.”</p> - -<p>“There’s a machine back of that arm,” said a -red-haired man, gloomily, “and, anyway, there ain’t -a law standing to cover our case.”</p> - -<p>“Then make one,” said Berty, irritably. “You -men all have votes, haven’t you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, miss,” said a man in a blue shirt, “all -except this lad. He’s just out from Ireland. He’s -only been ashore two weeks.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way to settle things,” said Berty, -warmly. “I’ve found out that votes are the only -things that make anybody afraid of you—you all -know how I came to this street. I found living -conditions unbearable. In my feeble way I have -tried to rectify them. Nobody cares anything for -me. The only good I have accomplished is to get -a park for the children.”</p> - -<p>“And that was a great thing,” said the man in -the blue shirt, “and I guess we all think of it when -we look at you.”</p> - -<p>“I just wanted common necessities,” said Berty, -eloquently, “air, light, water, and space—wanted -them for myself and my neighbours on the street. -I have badgered the city council till I have got -to be a joke and a reproach. Nobody cares anything -about you down here, because you haven’t -any influence. I’ve found out that if I could say -to the city council, ‘Gentlemen, I have five hundred -votes to control,’ they would listen to me fast -enough.”</p> - -<p>The men smiled, and one said, kindly, “I’m sure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -miss, you’d get our votes in a bunch, if we could -give them.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want them,” said Berty, quickly. “It -isn’t a woman’s business to go into reforming city -politics. It’s the men’s place. You men fight for -your homes if a foreign enemy menaces us. Why -don’t you organize, and fight against the city council? -Drive it out, and put in a good one. Those -few men aren’t there to make the laws. They are -to administer them. You are the people. Make -what laws you please. If they are not workable, -make new ones. I’m disgusted with those aldermen. -The very idea of their arrogating to themselves -so much authority. You would think they -were emperors.”</p> - -<p>The men smiled again. From him in the blue -shirt came the emphatic remark, “We couldn’t turn -out the present lot, miss. They’re too strong for -us.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you could,” replied Berty, impatiently. -“I’ve been going over our voting-list, and I find -that the city of Riverport consists of ‘poor people,’ -as we call them, to the extent of two-thirds of the -population. You poor men have the votes. Now -don’t tell me you can’t get what you want.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But there’s party politics, miss,” suggested a -quiet man in the background.</p> - -<p>“Shame on you, Malone,” and Berty pointed a -finger at him, “shame on you, to put party politics -before family politics. Vote for the man who will -do the best for your wife and children. If you -haven’t got such a man, organize and put one in. -Let him give you equal privileges with the rich—or, -rather, not equal privileges—I am no socialist. -I believe that some men have more brains than -others, and are entitled by virtue of their brains -to more enjoyments and more power, but I mean -that the city owes to every citizen, however poor, -a comfortable house and a decently kept street.”</p> - -<p>“That’s sound, miss,” said Malone, slipping still -further forward, “but we’d never get it from the -city.”</p> - -<p>“Put in some of your number as aldermen. Why -shouldn’t you in democratic America, when even -in conservative England there can exist a city council -made up of men who work by the day—masons, -painters, bricklayers, and so on. Do that, and you -will have a chance to carry out all sorts of municipal -reforms. I think it is disgraceful that this ward -is represented by that oiled and perfumed old gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -Demarley, who never comes to this street -unless he wants a vote.”</p> - -<p>Malone stared intently at Berty, while a man beside -him murmured something about the board of -aldermen having promised certain reforms.</p> - -<p>“Don’t speak to me of reforms from those men -that we have now,” returned Berty, with flashing -eyes. “When I came to River Street, I used to -blame the policemen that they didn’t enforce the -law. Now I see that each policeman is a chained -dog for some alderman. He can only go the length -of his chain. A strapping great creature in uniform -comes along to your house, Mr. Malone, and says, -in a lordly way, ‘Mrs. Malone, you are obstructing -the sidewalk with those boxes; you must remove -them.’</p> - -<p>“‘And you are obstructing my peace of mind,’ -she says, ‘with that old drug-store over there open -all hours, and with our young lads slipping in and -out the back door, when they ought to be in bed. -Haven’t you eyes or a nose for anything but boxes?’</p> - -<p>“And the policeman says, meekly, ‘I see nothing, -I hear nothing; there must be something wrong -with your own eyes and hearing, Mrs. Malone. It’s -getting old you are.’ Then he moves on to look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -for more boxes and small boys. That’s the length -of his chain.”</p> - -<p>They were silent, and Berty, with increasing heat -and irritation, went on. “This city is entirely corrupt. -I say it again and again, and you know it -better than I do—but I am going to stop talking -about it. I had a lovely scheme for setting up a -shop to sell pure milk to try to keep the breath -of life in your babies a little longer, and I was going -to get out plans for model dwellings, but I am going -to stop short right here, and mind my own business.”</p> - -<p>The men stood looking sheepishly at her, and at -themselves, and, while they stood, Tom Everest, in a -short walking-coat, and with his hat on the back of -his head, came hurrying down the street.</p> - -<p>He put his hat on straight when he saw Berty, and -stopped to glance at her. He had got into the way -of dodging down to River Street if he had any -business that brought him in the neighbourhood, or -if he could spare an hour from his office.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">DISCOURAGED</span></h2> - -<p>When Berty’s eyes rested on Tom, he came forward -hat in hand.</p> - -<p>“Is there anything I can do for you?” he inquired, -calmly, but with inward anxiety as he -noticed her flushed face.</p> - -<p>“No, thank you,” she said, wearily, “I was just -talking to some of my friends here.”</p> - -<p>Tom nodded to the men in a civil manner, then -said, “Are you going home?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, presently,” she returned. “I will just -finish what I was saying. I was telling these men, -Mr. Everest, that when I came to River Street, and -saw how many things needed to be done in order -to make the place comfortable, my brain was on -fire. I wished to do everything to enable my neighbours -to have decent homes and a pure atmosphere -in which to bring up their children. But now I -have got discouraged with them. They don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -second me. All the rich people say that poor people -are shiftless and ungrateful, and I am beginning -to think they are right. Here are these men standing -before us. They are just as sensible as you -are, or as any man in the city, but again and again -they will vote for aldermen who care no more for -their interests than they do for the interests of the -sparrows flying about the city. They can pick up -a living the best way they can. The city council -has not one bit of care of its children, except the -rich ones, and I say to these men here that there -is no use for me or anybody to try to help them. -They have got to help themselves.”</p> - -<p>Tom looked concerned, but made no endeavour to -reply, and Berty went on:</p> - -<p>“It is all very fine to talk of helping the poor, -and uplifting the poor. It just makes them more -pauper-like for you to settle down among them, and -bear all the burden of lifting them up. They have -got to help you, and because they won’t help me, -I am going to leave River Street just as soon as I -get money enough. I’m disgusted with these -people.”</p> - -<p>Tom, to Berty’s surprise, gave no expression of -relief—and yet how many times he had begged -her to turn her back on this neighbourhood.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<p>The wharf-men sank into a state of greater sheepishness -than before. One of them, who carried a -whip under his arm, shifted it, and, reaching forward, -pushed Malone with it.</p> - -<p>Other of the men were nudging him, and at last -he remarked, regretfully, “I’m sorry to hear you -say that you want to quit the street, miss. I hope -you’ll change your mind.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now, do you think it is a nice thing for -me to be constantly running about interviewing -aldermen who hate the sight of me, on the subject -of the rights of great strong men like you and these -others? Come, now, is it work for a girl?”</p> - -<p>“Well, no, miss, it isn’t,” said Malone, uneasily.</p> - -<p>“Then why don’t you do it yourselves? The -ideal thing is to trust people, to believe that your -neighbour loves you as well as he does himself, -but he doesn’t. He pretends he does, but you’ve -got to watch him to make a pretence a reality. For -the good of your alderman neighbour make him -love you. You don’t want plush sofas and lace -window curtains. Bah, I’m getting so I don’t care -a fig for the ‘rags’ of life—but you want well-made -furniture, and a clean pane of glass to look -out at God’s sky.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so,” muttered Malone.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then for goodness’ sake get to work. Municipal -reform can start right here on River Street as well -as on Grand Avenue. I have all sorts of lovely -papers telling just how model municipal government -should be, and is conducted. It’s a living, -acting plan in several cities, but I sha’n’t tell any of -you one thing about it, unless you come and ask -me. I’m tired of cramming information down your -throats. Go on and strike, and do anything foolish -you can. Let your wives freeze, and your poor -children cry for food this winter. In the spring -there will be a fine lot of funerals.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say, Berty,” remarked Tom, in an undertone.</p> - -<p>Her eyes were full of tears, but she went plunging -on. “And I’ll tell you one thing that may be published -to the city any day. I was not told not to -tell it. Mr. Jimson wrote me a letter while he was -away, and I think he is going to resign the mayoralty. -He won’t tell why, of course, but I know it -is because the city council is so corrupt. Now if you -men had stood by him, and put in a decent set of -councillors, he might have stayed in. I haven’t said -a word of this before, because I felt so badly about -it.”</p> - -<p>The men scarcely heard her last sentences. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -“River Streeters,” as they were called, took to a -man an extraordinary interest in civic affairs, and -they fell to discussing this bit of news among themselves.</p> - -<p>“Come home, Berty,” said Tom.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I will,” she said, meekly. “I’ve said all -I want to. Just steady me over that crossing. I’ve -got dust in my eyes.”</p> - -<p>Poor Berty—she was crying, and good, honest -Tom choked back a sudden sympathetic lump in -his throat.</p> - -<p>“Don’t worry, little girl,” he said, huskily. -“You’ve done a lot of good already, and we’re -all proud of you.”</p> - -<p>“I have done nothing,” said Berty, passionately, -“nothing but get the park for the children. I just -love the children on this street. I want their fathers -to do something for them. It’s awful, Tom, to -bring up boys and girls in such an atmosphere. -What will their parents say when they stand before -the judgment seat—I can’t stand it, Tom—the -lost souls of the little ones just haunt me.”</p> - -<p>“There, there,” murmured Tom, consolingly, -“we’re most home. Try to think of something else, -Berty—you’ll live to do lots of work for the children -yet.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.<br /> -<span class="smaller">GRANDMA’S REQUEST</span></h2> - -<p>For three weeks the weather had been chilly and -disagreeable. “The winter will set in early,” the -oldest inhabitants were prophesying, when suddenly -the full glory of the Indian summer burst upon -the city.</p> - -<p>Berty was delighted. “Dear Grandma will get -better now,” she kept saying, hopefully. “This is -what she wants—just a little warm sunshine before -the winter comes.”</p> - -<p>Grandma’s health had for some time been a cause -of anxiety to her many friends. All through the -autumn she had been ailing, and strangely quiet, -even for her. And she had complained of feeling -cold, a thing she had never done before in her life. -Nothing seemed to warm her, not even the blazing -fires that Berty kept in some of the many open fireplaces -with which the old house was well supplied.</p> - -<p>To-day there was a change. When the warm,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -lovely sunshine came streaming into her room, -Grandma had got out of bed. She had come down-stairs, -and, very quietly, but with a gentle smile -that sent Berty into an ecstasy of delight, she had -visited every room in the house.</p> - -<p>The guinea-pigs and pigeons in the wood-shed, -the two women working in the kitchen, had been -made glad by a call from her, and now she was -resting on a sofa in the parlour.</p> - -<p>“I feel twenty years younger to see you going -about!” exclaimed Berty, delightedly, as she tucked -a blanket round her.</p> - -<p>“Twenty years!” murmured Grandma.</p> - -<p>“Of course that’s exaggeration,” explained Berty, -apologetically. “I know that you know I’m not -twenty yet. I just wanted you to understand how -glad I feel.”</p> - -<p>“Go out on the veranda,” said Grandma, “and -breathe the fresh air. You have been in the house -too much with me lately.”</p> - -<p>Berty’s upper lip was covered with a dew of -perspiration. She was hot all the time, partly from -excitement and anxiety about Grandma, and partly -from her incessant activity in waiting on her in -the heated atmosphere of the house.</p> - -<p>Berty reluctantly made her way to the veranda,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -where she promptly dislodged from a rocking-chair -the mongrel pup, who, after long hesitation, had -finally chosen to take up his abode with her.</p> - -<p>The pup, however, crawled up beside her after -she sat down, and she gently swayed to and fro in -the rocking-chair, absently stroking his head and -gazing out at the stripped grain-fields across the -river.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“The ripened sheaves are garnered in,</div> -<div class="verse">Garnered in, garnered in,”</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">she was singing softly to herself, when some one -remarked in an undertone, “Well, how goes it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she said, looking up, “it is you, is it, the -omnipresent Tom?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I just slipped up for a minute to see how -Grandma is. Won’t this sunshine set her up?”</p> - -<p>“You saw her as you came through the room?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but she was asleep, so I did not speak. -How is she?”</p> - -<p>“Better, much better, and I am so glad.”</p> - -<p>“So am I,” responded Tom, heartily; “it makes -us all feel bad to have her ill, but, I say, Berty, -you must not take it so to heart. You’re looking -thin.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t help worrying about Grandma, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“How long since you’ve been out?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Two weeks.”</p> - -<p>“That’s too long for one of your active disposition -to stay in the house. Come, take your dog -and walk back to town with me. See, he is all ready -to come.”</p> - -<p>Mugwump, indeed, was fawning round Tom in -a servile manner.</p> - -<p>“He’s liked me ever since he had a taste of my -coat,” observed the young man.</p> - -<p>“If you won’t take a walk with me, let me row -you over to Bobbetty’s Island this afternoon,” pursued -Tom.</p> - -<p>Berty shook her head, but said, eagerly, “Do tell -me how Mafferty is getting on.”</p> - -<p>“Finely—he says that’s a first-class shanty we -put up for him—the stove is a beauty, and, Berty, -another consignment of cats has arrived.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Tom, what are they like?”</p> - -<p>The young man launched into a description of -the new arrivals. “There are four white kittens—one -pair yellow eyes, three pairs blue, for which -you should charge twenty dollars to intending purchasers; -three black Persian kings, worth thirty -dollars, and a few assorted kittens from five dollars -up.”</p> - -<p>Berty listened in rapt attention. When he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -finished, she said, “You’ve been tremendously good -about my tramp, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“I like partnerships,” he said, modestly; “in fact, -I—”</p> - -<p>“That reminds me,” interrupted Berty, unceremoniously; -“has he had another letter from his -wife?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, she is coming in ten days.”</p> - -<p>The girl clasped her dog so energetically round -the neck that he squealed in protest. “Isn’t it just -lovely, that we have been able to do something for -that man? Oh, do you suppose he will be happy -there with his wife and the cats?”</p> - -<p>“No, certainly not,” said Tom, coolly. “He’s -going to have his bursts, of course.”</p> - -<p>“And what are we to do?” asked Berty, sorrowfully.</p> - -<p>“Forgive him, and row him back to the island,” -said Tom, hopefully. “It’s as much our business -to look after him as anybody’s.”</p> - -<p>Berty turned in her chair, and stared at him long -and intently. “Tom Everest, you are changing.”</p> - -<p>“Pray Heaven, I am,” he said earnestly, and -something in the bright, steady gaze bent on her -made her eyes fill with tears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have learned a lot from you,” he continued, in -a low voice. “When I heard you talking to those -men the other day, it stirred my heart. It seemed -pitiful Berty, that a girl like you, who might think -only of amusing herself, should be so touched by -her neighbours’ woes that she should give up her -own peace of mind in order to try to help them. -Then I heard that though you could not move the -men, the women of the street were much put -out at the thought of your leaving, and so exasperated -with the men, that they told them they had -got to do something to help their families. I said -to myself, ‘I’ve only been giving Berty a half assistance -up to this. She shall have my whole assistance -now.’”</p> - -<p>Berty’s face was glowing. “Tom,” she said, -gently, “if we live, we shall see great reforms on -River Street.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so,” he replied, heartily.</p> - -<p>“We shall see,” and she upraised one slim brown -hand, “perhaps, oh, perhaps and possibly, but still, -I trust, truly, we shall see this our city one of the best -governed in America.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I hope so,” returned Tom, with a kind of -groan.</p> - -<p>“Don’t doubt it,” continued the girl. “Who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -lives will see. I tell you, Tom, the women are desperate. -The River Street houses are growing older -and older. What woman can endure seeing her -children die, and know that they are poisoned out -of existence? I tell you, Tom, the men have got -to do something or emigrate.”</p> - -<p>“They’ll not emigrate,” said Tom, shortly, “and -upon my word,” and he looked round about him, -“I don’t know but what I’d be willing to live on -River Street myself, to help reform it.”</p> - -<p>Berty was silent for a long time, then she said, -in a low voice, “You will not regret that speech, -Tom Everest.”</p> - -<p>“All right, little girl,” he replied, cheerfully, and -jumping up from his low seat. “Now I must get -back to work. Come, Mugwump, I guess your -missis will let you have a walk, even if she won’t -go herself.”</p> - -<p>The lawless dog, without glancing at Berty for -permission, bounded to his side and licked his -hand.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t very good manners, dog,” said -Tom, lightly, “but I guess your mistress likes -you.”</p> - -<p>“I always did like the bad ones best,” said Berty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -wistfully. “It seems as if they had more need of -friends—good-bye, Tom.”</p> - -<p>“Good-bye, little girl,” he returned, throwing -her a kiss from the tips of his fingers. “Maybe I’ll -run up this afternoon.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">DOWN THE RIVER</span></h2> - -<p>Tom did not get up in the afternoon. However, -he came in the evening, and the next morning, and -the next.</p> - -<p>Margaretta and Roger, Bonny, Selina, and Mr. -Jimson also came. Grandma was decidedly better, -and in their joy they came even oftener than they -had in their sorrow at her illness.</p> - -<p>Berty could hardly contain herself for very lightness -and extravagance of spirit. It had seemed to -her that she could not endure the mere thought of -a further and long-continued illness on the part of -her beloved grandmother. To think of that other -contingency—her possible death—sent her into -fits of shuddering and despondency in which it -seemed as if she, too, would die if her grandmother -did.</p> - -<p>Now all was changed. Day by day the exquisite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -sunshine continued, the air was balmy, there was -a yellow haze about the sun. It seemed to Berty -that she was living in an enchanted world. Grandma -was going about the house with a firm step—a -bright eye. She had gone over all her trunks and -closets. She had sorted letters, tidied her boxes -of clothes, and arranged all her belongings with a -neatness and expedition that seemed to betoken the -energy of returned youthfulness.</p> - -<p>She was also knitting again. Nothing had pleased -Berty as much as this. Tears of delight fell on -the silk stocking as she handed it to Grandma the -first time she asked her for it.</p> - -<p>“Dear Grandma,” said Berty, on this afternoon, -abruptly dropping on a foot-stool beside her, and -putting her head on her knee, “dear Grandma.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Travers, still steadily knitting, glanced at -her as if to say, “Why this sudden access of affection?”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t mean anything in particular,” said -Berty, pressing still closer, “only that you are so -dear.”</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled, and went on with her work.</p> - -<p>“You are just toeing that stocking off,” said -Berty.</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear,” replied her grandmother. “This is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -the last of the six pairs for Mrs. Darley-James. You -will remember, Berty, they are all for her.”</p> - -<p>“Why should I remember?” asked the girl, anxiously. -“You always remember for yourself.”</p> - -<p>“True,” said Mrs. Travers, composedly, and, -getting up, she went to her writing-desk. Taking -out a roll of exquisitely made stockings, she wrapped -them in a piece of paper, and with a firm hand wrote, -“Mrs. Darley-James, from her old friend, Margaret -Travers.”</p> - -<p>Having directed the parcel, she left her desk and -went to the veranda.</p> - -<p>Berty followed her. Grandma was looking -strangely up and down the river—strangely and -restlessly. At last she said, “It’s a glorious afternoon. -I should like to go out in a boat.”</p> - -<p>“But, Grandma,” said Berty, uneasily, “do you -feel able for it?”</p> - -<p>Her grandmother looked at her, and the brightness -of her face silenced the girl’s scruples.</p> - -<p>“I will take you in my boat, dear,” she said, -gently, “if you wish to go.”</p> - -<p>“I should like to have Margaretta come,” said -Mrs. Travers.</p> - -<p>“Very well, we will send for her.”</p> - -<p>“And Roger,” said Grandma.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Roger is at an important business meeting this -afternoon, I happen to know,” said Berty, hesitatingly.</p> - -<p>“He would leave it for me,” said Grandma.</p> - -<p>“Do you wish me to ask him?” inquired Berty, -in some anxiety.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Grandma, softly.</p> - -<p>Berty got up and was about to leave the veranda, -when Mrs. Travers went on. “Will you send for -Bonny, too?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Grandma, don’t you feel well?” asked -Berty, in increasing anxiety.</p> - -<p>“Just at present I do, dear,” and her voice was -so clear, her manner so calm, that Berty was reassured -until her next remark.</p> - -<p>“Berty, where is Tom this afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Grandma, he was going to Bangor on business. -He is just about getting to the station now.”</p> - -<p>“Will you send for him, too?”</p> - -<p>“Send for him?” faltered Berty. “Oh, Grandma, -you are ill. You must be ill.”</p> - -<p>“Do I look ill?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, no,” said Berty, in despair. “You -don’t look ill, your face is like an angel’s, but you -frighten me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My child,” said Grandma, “I never felt better -in my life; but despatch your messengers.”</p> - -<p>Berty left the room. She had a strange sensation -as if walking on air. “Bring your boat, Roger,” -she wrote, “your family boat. Mine isn’t large -enough.”</p> - -<p>Her messengers were faithful, and in an hour -Margaretta, Bonny, Roger, and Tom were hastening -to the house.</p> - -<p>Berty met them in the hall. “No, Grandma isn’t -ill,” she said, with a half-sob. “Don’t stare at -her, and don’t frighten her. She just took a fancy -to go out boating, and to have you all with her.”</p> - -<p>“But it is so unlike Grandma to interfere or to -disarrange plans,” murmured Margaretta; “there -is something wrong.” However, she said nothing -aloud, and went quietly into the parlour with the -others and spoke to Grandma, who looked at them -all with a strange brightness in her eyes, but said -little.</p> - -<p>Tom could not get the fright from his manner. -Old Mrs. Travers would not interrupt a railway -journey for a trifle. They might say what they -liked.</p> - -<p>In somewhat breathless and foreboding silence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -they got into Roger’s big boat moored at the landing, -and he and Tom took the oars.</p> - -<p>Once out upon the bosom of the calmly flowing -river, their faces brightened. Sky and water were -resplendent, and they were softly enveloped in the -golden haze of approaching sunset.</p> - -<p>Here where the river was broadest the shores -seemed dim in the yellow light. With the dying -glory of the sun behind them, they went down the -stream in the direction of Grandma’s pointing hand.</p> - -<p>How well she looked, propped up on her cushions -in the stern. Her eyes were shining with a new -light, her very skin seemed transparent and luminous. -Was it possible that, instead of failing and -entering upon a weary old age, this new-found -energy betokened a renewed lease of life? Their -faces brightened still further. Tom at last lost the -fright from his eyes, and Berty’s vanished colour -began to come fitfully back.</p> - -<p>As they sat enfolding her in loving glances, -Grandma occasionally spoke in low, short sentences, -mostly relating to the river.</p> - -<p>“I was born by it—it has been a friend to me. -Children, you will all live by the river.”</p> - -<p>Upon arriving opposite Bobbetty’s Island, -Grandma smiled. Berty’s tramp, Mafferty, in a decent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -suit of clothes, stood on a rock, surrounded by a -number of handsome, dignified cats, who sat or stood -beside him like so many dogs. As they passed he -waved them a respectful greeting with one of Tom’s -discarded hats.</p> - -<p>“You will not give him up,” said Grandma to -Tom. “You will not become discouraged.”</p> - -<p>“I will not,” he said, solemnly.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.<br /> -<span class="smaller">LAST WORDS</span></h2> - -<p>“The sun has gone down,” said Margaretta, suddenly.</p> - -<p>It had indeed. The huge golden ball had just -dropped behind the hills on the western side of the -river.</p> - -<p>Grandma half-raised herself on her cushions, a -restrained eagerness took possession of her, as if -she were disappointed that she had not obtained -one more glimpse of the king of day, then she sank -back and smiled into the unwavering eyes of her -youngest granddaughter. The eyes of the others -might occasionally wander. Berty’s gaze had not -left her face since they came upon the river.</p> - -<p>“You wished to see the sun again,” said Berty. -“I should have warned you that it was about to -disappear.”</p> - -<p>“I wished to say good-bye to it,” said Grandma, -“a last good-bye.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<p>“To say good-bye,” repeated Berty, in a stunned -voice, “a last good-bye,” and with a heart-broken -gesture she put her hand to her head, as if wondering -if she had heard aright.</p> - -<p>Margaretta was trembling. Since the withdrawal -of the sun, the yellow, lovely glow had faded. There -was a gray shadow on everything, even on their -own bright faces—on all except Grandma’s. That -radiance about her was not a reflection of any light -in this world; it was unearthly; and she fearfully -touched Roger with a finger.</p> - -<p>She knew now why they had been brought out -upon the river, and, endeavouring once, twice, and -finally a third time, she managed to utter, in a quivering -voice, “Grandma, shall we take you home?”</p> - -<p>“No, Margaretta,” replied Grandma, clearly, and -she pointed down the river. “Take me toward the -sea. I shall soon be sent for.”</p> - -<p>They all understood her now. Their scarcely -suppressed forebodings rushed back and enveloped -them in a dark, unhappy cloud.</p> - -<p>Grandma was repeating in a low voice, “Thy -sun shall no more go down, neither shall thy moon -withdraw itself, for the Lord shall be thine everlasting -light, and the days of thy mourning shall -be ended.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> - -<p>Margaretta, leaning over, drew a flask from -Roger’s pocket. Then, slipping past the motionless -Berty, she knelt before her grandmother.</p> - -<p>“Dearest, I brought a stimulant with me. Will -you have some?”</p> - -<p>“But I have no need of it,” said Grandma, opening -wide her strangely beautiful eyes.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Margaretta that she could not endure -their bliss, their radiance. She turned her head -quietly away, and, with a rain of tears falling down -her face, sat looking out over the river.</p> - -<p>Presently controlling herself, she again turned to -her grandmother. Perhaps there was something she -could do for her. Her hands might be cold. They -were, and Margaretta, taking them in her own, -chafed them gently.</p> - -<p>Grandma smiled quietly. “Always thoughtful—my -dear, you will be a mother to Bonny.”</p> - -<p>“I will,” said the weeping girl.</p> - -<p>“Do not be unhappy,” said Grandma, pleadingly. -“I am so happy to go. My earthly house is in -order. I long for my heavenly one.”</p> - -<p>“But—but, Grandma, you have been happy with -us,” stammered Margaretta.</p> - -<p>“Happy, so happy—always remember that. -My only trouble a separated family. One half in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -heaven, the other on earth. One day to be reunited. -You will cherish each other after I am gone—you -precious ones on earth—Roger?”</p> - -<p>The young man nodded, and bent his head low -over the oars.</p> - -<p>“And Tom,” said Grandma, with exquisite -sweetness, “my third grandson, you will take care -of Berty?” Tom tried to speak, failed, tried again, -but Grandma knew the significance of his hoarse, -inarticulate murmur. Then he averted his gaze -from the heart-breaking sight of Berty at her grandmother’s -feet. The despairing girl had clasped them -to her breast. Grandma was more to her than any -of them. How could he comfort her for such a -loss?</p> - -<p>“Come, come,” said Grandma, cheerily, “our -parting is but for a little. See, my child, my spirit -is growing brighter and brighter. It has outgrown -this poor old worn-out body. Berty, lift your head, -and look your grandmother once more in the eyes.”</p> - -<p>After some delay, Berty, in mute, anguished -silence did as she was bid.</p> - -<p>“Some day,” said Grandma, firmly, “your own -sturdy limbs will fail you. You will fly from them -as from a discarded burden, and come to rejoin your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -mother and grandmother in the sky. Let me hear -you speak. Will you be brave?”</p> - -<p>Still in dumb, tearless sorrow, the girl shook her -head.</p> - -<p>“Is this the child I have brought up?” asked -Grandma, with some faintness. “Have I been unsuccessful? -Where is your strength in the hour of -trial?”</p> - -<p>Berty clasped her hands to her side. “Grandma,” -she said, slowly, and as if each word were wrung -from her. “I will be brave, I will not forget what -you have told me.”</p> - -<p>“Keep your own family together, and keep the -welfare of the children of the city next your heart,” -said Grandma, with new strength, “so you will be -blessed in your own soul.”</p> - -<p>“I promise,” said Berty, with quivering lips.</p> - -<p>“Give my love to Selina and her husband,” -Grandma went on, after a short pause. “They are -happy together, and they know their duty. They -have no need of words from me. And now, Bonny, -my own and last grandchild—the baby of the -family.”</p> - -<p>The boy stretched out his hands. He was younger -than the others, and he made no attempt to restrain -his sobs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Such a dear baby he was,” murmured Grandma, -patting his downcast head. “Such a lovely, beautiful -baby.”</p> - -<p>Margaretta made an effort to control herself, and -resolutely wiped away the tears pouring down her -face. “Grandma,” she uttered, brokenly, “would -you like us to sing to you?”</p> - -<p>Grandma slightly turned her head. She seemed -to be listening to something beyond them. Then she -said, slowly, “My dears, I never fancied going out -of this world to the sound of earthly music. There -are strange and exquisite harmonies from another -world floating in my ears. Hark, children—I hear -it now plainly. I am nearing the sea.”</p> - -<p>“Grandma, darling,” said Margaretta, in distress, -“we are many miles from the sea.”</p> - -<p>“It is the sea,” murmured the dying woman, and -a triumphant smile broke over her face, “the sea -of glass near the great white throne—and there -is a new sound now. Ah, children!” and, raising -herself on her cushions, a very flame of unearthly -and exquisite anticipation swept over her face, “the -new sound is from the harps of gold of them that -stand beside the sea. They have gotten the victory, -and they sing praises!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>She sank back—with one joyful exclamation the -breath left her body.</p> - -<p>Who could mourn for a death like that? Who -would dare to grieve over the little worn-out body?</p> - -<p>Margaretta reverently stooped over, kissed the -face so soon to grow cold, then, lightly draping a -white wrap about it, she sat down and held out one -hand to Berty, the other to her brother.</p> - -<p>Tom and Roger turned the boat’s head toward the -city. Their hearts were full of grief, and yet, looking -at the calm sky, the peaceful river, they knew -that time would pass, their grief would grow chastened, -in all probability there stretched before each -occupant of that boat a useful and happy life.</p> - -<p>Grandma had not lived in vain. She had kept -her family together, and while her children’s children -lived, and their children, her memory would -not be suffered to grow cold, neither would her -good deeds be forgotten.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">THE END.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="further-reading"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p1" id="books_1_p1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<h2>BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</h2> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel Stories.</span> By <span class="smcap">Annie -Fellows Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p>Being three “Little Colonel” stories in the Cosy -Corner Series, “The Little Colonel,” “Two Little -Knights of Kentucky,” and “The Giant Scissors,” put -into a single volume, owing to the popular demand for a -uniform series of the stories dealing with one of the -most popular of juvenile heroines.</p> - -<p>1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, fully illustrated <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel’s House Party.</span> -By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows Johnston</span>. Illustrated by -Louis Meynell.</p> - -<p>One vol., library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover <span class="price">$1.00</span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel’s Holidays.</span> By -<span class="smcap">Annie Fellows Johnston</span>. Illustrated by L. J. -Bridgman.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative cover <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel’s Hero.</span> By <span class="smcap">Annie -Fellows Johnston</span>. Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel at Boarding School.</span> -By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows Johnston</span>. Illustrated -by E. B. Barry.</p> - -<p>1 vol., large 12mo, cloth <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p>Since the time of “Little Women,” no juvenile heroine -has been better beloved of her child readers than Mrs. -Johnston’s “Little Colonel.” Each succeeding book has -been more popular than its predecessor, and now thousands -of little readers wait patiently each year for the -appearance of “the new Little Colonel Book.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p2" id="books_1_p2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">Beautiful Joe’s Paradise;</span> or, <span class="smcap">The Island -of Brotherly Love</span>. A sequel to “Beautiful Joe.” -By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders</span>, author of “Beautiful Joe,” -“For His Country,” etc. With fifteen full-page plates -and many decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston -Bull.</p> - -<p>One vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i>, postpaid, $1.32</span></p> - -<p>“Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who -read it.”—<cite>Pittsburg Gazette.</cite></p> - -<p>“Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness -into her story. The book deserves to be a favorite.”—<cite>Chicago -Record-Herald.</cite></p> - -<p>“This book revives the spirit of ‘Beautiful Joe’ capitally. -It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual -as anything in the animal book line that has seen the -light. It is a book for juveniles—old and young.”—<cite>Philadelphia -Item.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">’Tilda Jane.</span> By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders</span>, author -of “Beautiful Joe,” etc.</p> - -<p>One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative cover <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p>“No more amusing and attractive child’s story has appeared -for a long time than this quaint and curious recital of -the adventures of that pitiful and charming little runaway.”</p> - -<p>“It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books -that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down -until I had finished it—honest! And I am sure that every -one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to -make the acquaintance of the delicious waif.</p> - -<p>“I cannot think of any better book for children than this. -I commend it unreservedly.”—<cite>Cyrus Townsend Brady.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Story of the Graveleys.</span> By <span class="smcap">Marshall -Saunders</span>, author of “Beautiful Joe’s Paradise,” -“’Tilda Jane,” etc.</p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. -Barry <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p>Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and -triumphs, of a delightful New England family, of whose -devotion and sturdiness it will do the reader good to -hear. From the kindly, serene-souled grandmother to -the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk of -fibre and blood—genuine human beings.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p3" id="books_1_p3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">Little Lady Marjorie.</span> By <span class="smcap">Frances Margaret -Fox</span>, author of “Farmer Brown and the -Birds,” etc.</p> - -<p>12mo, cloth, illustrated <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p>A charming story for children between the ages of -ten and fifteen years, with both heart and nature interest.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Sandman:</span> <span class="smcap">His Farm Stories</span>. By -<span class="smcap">William J. Hopkins</span>. With fifty illustrations by -Ada Clendenin Williamson.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, decorative cover, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i>, postpaid, $1.38</span></p> - -<p>“An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of -children not more than six years old, is ‘The Sandman: His -Farm Stories.’ It should be one of the most popular of the -year’s books for reading to small children.”—<cite>Buffalo Express.</cite></p> - -<p>“Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the -little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this -book a treasure.”—<cite>Cleveland Leader.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Sandman:</span> <span class="smcap">More Farm Stories</span>. By -<span class="smcap">William J. Hopkins</span>, author of “The Sandman: -His Farm Stories.”</p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, fully illustrated, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories has met -with such approval that this second book of “Sandman” -tales has been issued for scores of eager children. Life -on the farm, and out-of-doors, will be portrayed in his -inimitable manner, and many a little one will hail the -bedtime season as one of delight.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Puritan Knight Errant.</span> By <span class="smcap">Edith -Robinson</span>, author of “A Little Puritan Pioneer,” “A -Little Puritan’s First Christmas,” “A Little Puritan -Rebel,” etc.</p> - -<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i> (postage extra)</span></p> - -<p>The charm of style and historical value of Miss -Robinson’s previous stories of child life in Puritan days -have brought them wide popularity. Her latest and -most important book appeals to a large juvenile public. -The “knight errant” of this story is a little Don Quixote, -whose trials and their ultimate outcome will prove -deeply interesting to their reader.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p4" id="books_1_p4">[4]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Great Scoop.</span> By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>, -author of “Little Jarvis,” “Laurie Vane,” etc.</p> - -<p>12mo, cloth, with illustrations <span class="price">$1.00</span></p> - -<p>A capital tale of newspaper life in a big city, and of -a bright, enterprising, likable youngster employed therein. -Every boy with an ounce of true boyish blood in him -will have the time of his life in reading how Dick Henshaw -entered the newspaper business, and how he -secured “the great scoop.”</p> - -<p><span class="book">Flip’s “Islands of Providence.”</span> By -<span class="smcap">Annie Fellows Johnston</span>, author of “Asa -Holmes,” “The Little Colonel,” etc.</p> - -<p>12mo, cloth, with illustrations <span class="price">$1.00</span></p> - -<p>In this book the author of “The Little Colonel” and -her girl friends and companions shows that she is -equally at home in telling a tale in which the leading -character is a boy, and in describing his troubles and -triumphs in a way that will enhance her reputation as a -skilled and sympathetic writer of stories for children.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Songs and Rhymes for the Little -Ones.</span> Compiled by <span class="smcap">Mary Whitney Morrison</span> -(Jenny Wallis).</p> - -<p>New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. -Whitney and eight illustrations.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative <span class="price">$1.00</span></p> - -<p>No better description of this admirable book can be -given than Mrs. Whitney’s happy introduction:</p> - -<p>“One might almost as well offer June roses with the -assurance of their sweetness, as to present this lovely -little gathering of verse, which announces itself, like -them, by its deliciousness. Yet, as Mrs. Morrison’s -charming volume has long been a delight to me, I am -only too happy to link my name with its new and enriched -form in this slight way, and simply declare that it -is to me the most bewitching book of songs for little -people that I have ever known.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p5" id="books_1_p5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center larger">PHYLLIS’ FIELD FRIENDS SERIES</p> - -<p class="center"><i>By LENORE E. MULETS</i></p> - -<p>Four vols., cloth decorative, illustrated. Sold separately, -or as a set.</p> - -<p>Per volume <span class="price">$0.80 <i>net</i></span></p> - -<p>Per set <span class="price">$3.20 <i>net</i></span></p> - -<ul> -<li class="book">1. Insect Stories.</li> -<li class="book">2. Stories of Little Animals.</li> -<li class="book">3. Flower Stories.</li> -<li class="book">4. Bird Stories.</li> -</ul> - -<p>In this series of four little Nature books, it is the -author’s intention so to present to the child reader the -facts about each particular flower, insect, bird, or -animal, in story form, as to make delightful reading of -the facts of science, which the child is to verify through -his field lessons and experiences. Classical legends, -myths, poems and songs are so presented as to correlate -fully with these lessons, to which the excellent illustrations -are no little help.</p> - -<p class="center larger">THE WOODRANGER TALES</p> - -<p class="center"><i>By G. WALDO BROWNE</i></p> - -<ul> -<li class="book">The Woodranger.</li> -<li class="book">The Young Gunbearer.</li> -<li class="book">The Hero of the Hills.</li> -</ul> - -<p>Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative -cover, illustrated, per volume <span class="price">$1.00</span></p> - -<p>Three vols., boxed, per set <span class="price">$3.00</span></p> - -<p>“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder -Tales” of J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical information -relating to early pioneer days in America with -interesting adventures in the backwoods. Although the -same characters are continued throughout the series, -each book is complete in itself, and while based strictly -on historical facts, is an interesting and exciting tale of -adventure which will delight all boys and be by no means -unwelcome to their elders.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p6" id="books_1_p6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Rosamond Tales.</span> By <span class="smcap">Cuyler Reynolds</span>. -With 30 full-page illustrations from original -photographs, and with a frontispiece from a drawing -by Maud Humphreys.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p>These are just the bedtime stories that children always -ask for, but do not always get. Rosamond and Rosalind -are the hero and heroine of many happy adventures -in town and on their grandfather’s farm; and the happy -listeners to their story will unconsciously absorb a vast -amount of interesting knowledge of birds, animals, and -flowers. The book will be a boon to tired mothers, and -a delight to wide-awake children.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Larry Hudson’s Ambition.</span> By <span class="smcap">James -Otis</span>, author of “Toby Tyler,” etc. Illustrated by -Eliot Keen.</p> - -<p>One vol., library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover, <span class="price">$1.25</span></p> - -<p>James Otis, who has delighted the juvenile public -with so many popular stories, has written the story of -the rise of the bootblack Larry. Larry is not only -capable of holding his own and coming out with flying -colors in the amusing adventures wherein he befriends -the family of good Deacon Doak; he also has the -signal ability to know what he wants and to understand -that hard work is necessary to win.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Black Beauty:</span> <span class="smcap">The Autobiography of a -Horse</span>. By <span class="smcap">Anna Sewell</span>. <i>New Illustrated -Edition.</i> With nineteen full-page drawings by Winifred -Austin.</p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top, <span class="price">$1.25</span></p> - -<p>There have been many editions of this classic, but we -confidently offer this one as the most appropriate and -handsome yet produced. The illustrations are of special -value and beauty. Miss Austin is a lover of horses, and -has delighted in tracing with her pen the beauty and -grace of the noble animal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p7" id="books_1_p7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Story of Kate.</span> <span class="smcap">A Tale of California -Life for Girls.</span> By <span class="smcap">Pauline Bradford Mackie</span>. -Illustrations by L. J. Bridgman.</p> - -<p>One vol., library 12mo, cloth, <span class="price">$1.20 <i>net</i>, postpaid, $1.32</span></p> - -<p>“One of the most charming books of the season for girls, -is this, with its lovable characters and entertaining adventures.”—<cite>Albany -Times Union.</cite></p> - -<p>“Pauline Bradford Mackie’s new story is one of genuine -delight, and scarcely a better volume could be purchased for -girls.”—<cite>Boston Journal.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">Ye Lyttle Salem Maide:</span> <span class="smcap">A Story of -Witchcraft</span>. By <span class="smcap">Pauline Bradford Mackie</span>. -<i>New Illustrated Edition.</i></p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth, gilt top <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p>“The beauty of the story lies in its simplicity and pathos -mingled with the lighter vein of humor.”—<cite>Toledo Blade.</cite></p> - -<p>“No one can read the story without being profoundly -stirred.”—<cite>Baltimore Herald.</cite></p> - -<p>“Full of color and fine feeling.”—<cite>Albany Argus.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">In Kings’ Houses:</span> <span class="smcap">A Tale of the Days of -Queen Anne</span>. By <span class="smcap">Julia C. R. Dorr</span>. <i>New Illustrated -Edition.</i></p> - -<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth, gilt top <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p>“We close the book with a wish that the author may write -more of the history of England, which she knows so well.”—<cite>Bookman, -New York.</cite></p> - -<p>“A story with a charm that will hardly be withstood.”—<cite>Kansas -City Times.</cite></p> - -<p>“A fine, strong story which it is a relief to come upon. -Related with charming simple art.”—<cite>Public Ledger, Philadelphia.</cite></p> - -<p><span class="book">Gulliver’s Bird Book.</span> <span class="smcap">Being the Newly -Discovered Strange Adventures of Lemuel -Gulliver, Now for the First Time Described -and Illustrated.</span> By <span class="smcap">L. J. Bridgman</span>, author of -“Mother Goose and Her Wild Beast Show,” etc.</p> - -<p>With upwards of 100 illustrations in color, large -quarto, cloth <span class="price">$1.50</span></p> - -<p>This is a most amusing and original book, illustrated -with startlingly odd and clever drawings. “Gulliver’s -Bird Book” will prove a source of entertainment to -children of all ages, and should prove one of the leading -color juveniles of the season.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_1_p8" id="books_1_p8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center larger">THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES</p> - -<p>The most delightful and interesting accounts possible -of child-life in other lands, filled with quaint sayings -doings, and adventures.</p> - -<p>Each 1 vol., 12mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six -full-page illustrations in color by L. J. Bridgman.</p> - -<p>Price per volume <span class="price">$0.50 <i>net</i>, postpaid $0.56</span></p> - -<p>“Juveniles will get a whole world of pleasure and instruction -out of Mary Hazelton Wade’s Little Cousin Series. … -Pleasing narratives give pictures of the little folk in the far-away -lands in their duties and pleasures, showing their odd -ways of playing, studying, their queer homes, clothes, and -playthings. … The style of the stories is all that can be -desired for entertainment, the author describing things in a -very real and delightful fashion.”—<cite>Detroit News-Tribune.</cite></p> - -<p class="center"><i>By MARY HAZELTON WADE</i></p> - -<ul> -<li>Our Little Swiss Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Norwegian Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Italian Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Siamese Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Cuban Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Hawaiian Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Eskimo Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Philippine Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Porto Rican Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little African Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Japanese Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Brown Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Indian Cousin.</li> -<li>Our Little Russian Cousin.</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center"><i>By ISAAC HEADLAND TAYLOR</i></p> - -<ul> -<li>Our Little Chinese Cousin.</li> -</ul> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p1" id="books_2_p1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<h2>COSY CORNER SERIES</h2> - -<p>It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall -contain only the very highest and purest literature,—stories -that shall not only appeal to the children themselves, -but be appreciated by all those who feel with -them in their joys and sorrows,—stories that shall be -most particularly adapted for reading aloud in the -family circle.</p> - -<p>The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known -artists, and each volume has a separate attractive -cover design.</p> - -<p>Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth <span class="price">$0.50</span></p> - -<p><i>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Colonel.</span></p> - -<p>The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its -heroine is a small girl, who is known as the Little -Colonel, on account of her fancied resemblance to an -old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and -old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel -proves to be the grandfather of the child.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Giant Scissors.</span></p> - -<p>This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in -France,—the wonderful house with the gate of The -Giant Scissors, Jules, her little playmate, Sister Denisa, -the cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate. Joyce is -a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes -shares with her the delightful experiences of the “House -Party” and the “Holidays.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p2" id="books_2_p2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">Two Little Knights of Kentucky,</span> -<span class="smcap">Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors</span>.</p> - -<p>In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an -old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is -not, however, the central figure of the story, that place -being taken by the “two little knights.”</p> - -<p><span class="book">Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.</span></p> - -<p>The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles -will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for -young people, written in the author’s sympathetic and -entertaining manner.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories.</span></p> - -<p>A collection of six bright little stories, which will -appeal to all boys and most girls.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Big Brother.</span></p> - -<p>A story of two boys. The devotion and care of -Steven, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the -theme of the simple tale, the pathos and beauty of which -has appealed to so many thousands.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Ole Mammy’s Torment.</span></p> - -<p>“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a -classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mishaps -of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by -love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Story of Dago.</span></p> - -<p>In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, -a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago -tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mishaps -is both interesting and amusing.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p3" id="books_2_p3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>By EDITH ROBINSON</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">A Little Puritan’s First Christmas.</span></p> - -<p>A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how -Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child -of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Little Daughter of Liberty.</span></p> - -<p>The author’s motive for this story is well indicated by -a quotation from her introduction, as follows:</p> - -<p>“One ride is memorable in the early history of the -American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul -Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another -ride,—untold in verse or story, its records preserved -only in family papers or shadowy legend, the ride of -Anthony Severn was no less historic in its action or -memorable in its consequences.”</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Loyal Little Maid.</span></p> - -<p>A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary -days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, -renders important services to George Washington.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Little Puritan Rebel.</span></p> - -<p>Like Miss Robinson’s successful story of “A Loyal -Little Maid,” this is another historical tale of a real girl, -during the time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was -governor of Massachusetts.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Little Puritan Pioneer.</span></p> - -<p>The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement -at Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds -another to the list of favorites so well known to the -young people.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Little Puritan Bound Girl.</span></p> - -<p>A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great -interest to youthful readers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p4" id="books_2_p4">[4]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>By OUIDA (Louise de la Ramée)</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">A Dog of Flanders:</span> <span class="smcap">A Christmas Story</span>.</p> - -<p>Too well and favorably known to require description.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Nürnberg Stove.</span></p> - -<p>This beautiful story has never before been published -at a popular price.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Provence Rose.</span></p> - -<p>A story perfect in sweetness and in grace.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Findelkind.</span></p> - -<p>A charming story about a little Swiss herdsman.</p> - -<p><i>By MISS MULOCK</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Lame Prince.</span></p> - -<p>A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures -by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Adventures of a Brownie.</span></p> - -<p>The story of a household elf who torments the cook -and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the -children who love and trust him.</p> - -<p><span class="book">His Little Mother.</span></p> - -<p>Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant -source of delight to them, and “His Little Mother,” in -this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts -of youthful readers.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Little Sunshine’s Holiday.</span></p> - -<p>An attractive story of a summer outing. “Little Sunshine” -is another of those beautiful child-characters for -which Miss Mulock is so justly famous.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p5" id="books_2_p5">[5]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>By JULIANA HORATIA EWING</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">Jackanapes.</span></p> - -<p>A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite -and touching story, dear alike to young and old.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Story of a Short Life.</span></p> - -<p>This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. -It is a part of the world’s literature, and will never die.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Great Emergency.</span></p> - -<p>How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, -and how they acted when the emergency came.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Trinity Flower.</span></p> - -<p>In this little volume are collected three of Mrs. -Ewing’s best short stories for the young people.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Madam Liberality.</span></p> - -<p>From her cradle up Madam Liberality found her -chief delight in giving.</p> - -<p><i>By FRANCES MARGARET FOX</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Giant’s Neighbours.</span></p> - -<p>A charming nature story of a “little giant” whose -neighbours were the creatures of the field and garden.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Farmer Brown and the Birds.</span></p> - -<p>A little story which teaches children that the birds -are man’s best friends.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Betty of Old Mackinaw.</span></p> - -<p>A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to -the little readers who like stories of “real people.”</p> - -<p><span class="book">Mother Nature’s Little Ones.</span></p> - -<p>Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or -“childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p6" id="books_2_p6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow.</span></p> - -<p>This story, written by the gifted young Southern -woman, will appeal to all that is best in the natures of -the many admirers of her graceful and piquant style.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Fortunes of the Fellow.</span></p> - -<p>Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm -of “The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow” will welcome -the further account of the “Adventures of Baydaw and -the Fellow” at the home of the kindly smith among the -Green Hills of Tennessee.</p> - -<p><i>By FRANCES HODGES WHITE</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">Helena’s Wonderworld.</span></p> - -<p>A delightful tale of the adventures of a little girl in -the mysterious regions beneath the sea.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Aunt Nabby’s Children.</span></p> - -<p>This pretty little story, touched with the simple humor -of country life, tells of two children, who, adopted by -Aunt Nabby, have also won their way into the affections -of the village squire.</p> - -<p><i>By CHARLES LEE SLEIGHT</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Prince of the Pin Elves.</span></p> - -<p>A fascinating story of the underground adventures of -a sturdy, reliant American boy among the elves and -gnomes.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Water People.</span></p> - -<p>A companion volume and in a way a sequel to “The -Prince of the Pin Elves,” relating the adventures of -“Harry” among the “water people.” While it has the -same characters as the previous book, the story is complete -in itself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p7" id="books_2_p7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>By OTHER AUTHORS</i></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Flight of Rosy Dawn.</span> By <span class="smcap">Pauline -Bradford Mackie</span>.</p> - -<p>The Christmas of little Wong Jan, or “Rosy Dawn,” -a young Celestial of San Francisco, is the theme of this -pleasant little story.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Susanne.</span> By <span class="smcap">Frances J. Delano</span>.</p> - -<p>This little story will recall in sweetness and appealing -charm the work of Kate Douglas Wiggin and Laura E. -Richards.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Millicent in Dreamland.</span> By <span class="smcap">Edna S. -Brainerd</span>.</p> - -<p>The quaintness and fantastic character of Millicent’s -adventures in Dreamland have much of the fascination -of “Alice in Wonderland,” and all small readers of -“Alice” will enjoy making Millicent’s acquaintance.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Jerry’s Reward.</span> By <span class="smcap">Evelyn Snead -Barnett</span>.</p> - -<p>This is an interesting and wholesome little story of -the change that came over the thoughtless imps on Jefferson -Square when they learned to know the stout-hearted -Jerry and his faithful Peggy.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Bad Penny.</span> By <span class="smcap">John T. Wheelwright</span>.</p> - -<p>No boy should omit reading this vivid story of the -New England of 1812.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Gatty and I.</span> By <span class="smcap">Frances E. Crompton</span>.</p> - -<p>The small hero and heroine of this little story are -twins, “strictly brought up.” It is a sweet and wholesome -little story.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p8" id="books_2_p8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">Prince Yellowtop.</span> By <span class="smcap">Kate Whiting Patch</span>.</p> - -<p>A pretty little fairy tale.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Christmas Shoe.</span> By <span class="smcap">Jane P. -Scott-Woodruff</span>.</p> - -<p>A touching story of Yule-tide.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Little Professor.</span> By <span class="smcap">Ida Horton -Cash</span>.</p> - -<p>A quaint tale of a quaint little girl.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Seventh Daughter.</span> By <span class="smcap">Grace Wickham -Curran</span>.</p> - -<p>One of the best stories for little girls that has been -published for a long time.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Making of Zimri Bunker:</span> <span class="smcap">A Tale -of Nantucket</span>. By <span class="smcap">W. J. Long</span>, Ph. D.</p> - -<p>This is a charming story of Nantucket folk by a -young clergyman who is already well known through -his contributions to the <cite>Youth’s Companion</cite>, <cite>St. Nicholas</cite>, -and other well-known magazines. The story deals -with a sturdy American fisher lad, during the war of -1812.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The King of the Golden River:</span> <span class="smcap">A -Legend of Stiria</span>. By <span class="smcap">John Ruskin</span>.</p> - -<p>Written fifty years or more ago, and not originally -intended for publication, this little fairy tale soon -became known and made a place for itself.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Little Peterkin Vandike.</span> By <span class="smcap">Charles -Stuart Pratt.</span></p> - -<p>The author’s dedication furnishes a key to this charming -story:</p> - -<p>“I dedicate this book, made for the amusement (and -perchance instruction) of the boys who may read it, to -the memory of one boy, who would have enjoyed as -much as Peterkin the plays of the Poetry Party, but -who has now marched out of the ranks of boyhood.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p9" id="books_2_p9">[9]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">Rab and His Friends.</span> By Dr. <span class="smcap">John -Brown</span>.</p> - -<p>Doctor Brown’s little masterpiece is too well known -to need description. The dog Rab is loved by all.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Adventures of Beatrice and -Jessie.</span> By <span class="smcap">Richard Mansfield</span>.</p> - -<p>The story of two little girls who were suddenly transplanted -into the “realms of unreality,” where they met -with many curious and amusing adventures.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Child’s Garden of Verses.</span> By <span class="smcap">R. -L. Stevenson</span>.</p> - -<p>Mr. Stevenson’s little volume is too well known to -need description. It will be heartily welcomed in this -new and attractive edition.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Little King Davie.</span> By <span class="smcap">Nellie Hellis</span>.</p> - -<p>The story of a little crossing-sweeper, that will make -many boys thankful they are not in the same position. -Davie’s accident, hospital experiences, conversion, and -subsequent life, are of thrilling interest.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Sleeping Beauty.</span> <span class="smcap">A Modern Version.</span> -By <span class="smcap">Martha B. Dunn</span>.</p> - -<p>This charming story of a little fishermaid of Maine, -intellectually “asleep” until she meets the “Fairy -Prince,” reminds us of “Ouida” at her best.</p> - -<p><span class="book">The Young Archer.</span> By <span class="smcap">Charles E. Brimblecom</span>.</p> - -<p>A strong and wholesome story of a boy who accompanied -Columbus on his voyage to the New World. -His loyalty and services through vicissitudes and dangers -endeared him to the great discoverer, and the -account of his exploits will be interesting to all boys.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="books_2_p10" id="books_2_p10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<p><span class="book">The Fairy of the Rhône.</span> By <span class="smcap">A. Comyns -Carr</span>.</p> - -<p>Here is a fairy story indeed, one of old-fashioned pure -delight. It is most gracefully told, and accompanied by -charming illustrations.</p> - -<p><span class="book">A Small Small Child.</span> By <span class="smcap">E. Livingston -Prescott</span>.</p> - -<p>“A Small Small Child” is a moving little tale of -sweet influence, more powerful than threats or punishments, -upon a rowdy of the barracks.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Peggy’s Trial.</span> By <span class="smcap">Mary Knight Potter</span>.</p> - -<p>Peggy is an impulsive little woman of ten, whose -rebellion from a mistaken notion of loyalty, and her subsequent -reconciliation to the dreaded “new mother,” are -most interestingly told.</p> - -<p><span class="book">For His Country.</span> By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders</span>, -author of “Beautiful Joe,” etc.</p> - -<p>A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved -his country; written with that charm which has endeared -Miss Saunders to hosts of readers.</p> - -<p><span class="book">La Belle Nivernaise.</span> <span class="smcap">The Story of an -Old Boat and Her Crew.</span> By <span class="smcap">Alphonse -Daudet</span>.</p> - -<p>All who have read it will be glad to welcome an old -favorite, and new readers will be happy to have it -brought to their friendly attention.</p> - -<p><span class="book">Wee Dorothy.</span> By <span class="smcap">Laura Updegraff</span>.</p> - -<p>A story of two orphan children, the tender devotion -of the eldest, a boy, for his sister being its theme and -setting. With a bit of sadness at the beginning, the -story is otherwise bright and sunny, and altogether -wholesome in every way.</p> - -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 53675-h.htm or 53675-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/6/7/53675">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/6/7/53675</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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